Gentle Reader, I'm afraid I'm feeling a bit sweet and gentle…. I have no idea how long it will last. It might be a whole chapter…it might be just a moment or two of their time! ~Much love, Master Snape's Pet.
She did sleep, for a time. He'd completely worn her out. Sometime before dawn, she woke to the feel of his touch. Opening her bleary eyes, she watched her husband as he rubbed a nubby cloth over her skin. Seeing her eyes open, the Potions Master pressed a bit harder with the cloth. "You are a mess, Miss Granger.
Hermione smiled coyly. His voice was stern, his face austere, but his eyes held a quiet glimmer that spoke of amused affection.
"I'm sorry, Professor Snape. Here, I should…" As her voice trailed off, she reached for the cloth he held. He lifted it out of her reach.
"Talented though you are, Gryffindor, I'd rather you not try to tamper with my possessions. " With those words, he continued to rub her damp body with the cloth.
Hermione tried to stay still, but the cloth was having the affect that she was sure he'd intended. The bumpy cloth was just rough enough to get her stirred up, enough to make her squirm under his hands. So caught up in the movement of the cloth was she that she didn't notice Snape's dark eyes getting more predatory.
"Miss Granger." His voice was soft and cold. "If you can't not fidget, at least make yourself useful. What is the proper way to prepare ivy leaves for the Sip of Sudden Death?"
When she answered correctly, he rubbed gentle circles over her swollen breasts while he said, still in Professor mode, "Very good. Now, if you could not get your hands on wolfberries, what can you use instead, when making Glamour Potions?"
His motions were driving her crazy; that cloth should be outlawed! Unable to think, she said, "You can use… mmm Professor, you can use ummmm pomegranate seeds." A half second later, Hermione's body shook when her professor snapped her thigh with the corner of the damp cloth.
With no other reaction, Snape returned to rubbing her, stating, "No, Miss Granger, you cannot. You can use blueberries, provided you soak them in a gin and dragon sweat marinade beforehand. Now, is it possible…?" As the little contest continued, Hermione got answers right, but began getting more answers wrong, which, along with the requisite punishments, conspired to create a downward spiral. Before long, she was unable to answer coherently, let alone correctly.
Snape had move up her left leg, carefully avoiding the spot between them, up that side of her body, again avoiding her eager nipple. Since this was a game he dearly enjoyed playing, even though sometimes she kept the clarity of mind to beat him, he had no intention of taking the game too far, making it a thing she wouldn't want to play often. He therefore kept the snaps light and quick, tiny little stings that made her squirm.
When he reached her face, he made sure that the rag did little more than just make contact with her soft cheek. Hermione tipped her face up to his, looked at him with knowing eyes, but made no comment over his unasked-for gentleness. As Snape progressed back down her right side, he allowed the snaps to increase in intensity again, though he again avoided the areas that his wife pushed up to encourage his interest.
"Question, twenty, Miss Granger, and the last of the evening. What is the best way to use a product from an Animagus, so that it acts like that of a real animal?"
Hermione didn't even attempt to answers correctly. That was not something she'd ever learned, at least not that she could remember now.
When he'd waited what he felt was a reasonable timeframe, Snape brought the cloth down hard on her throbbing womanhood. She arched, crying out in pain and pleasure. He lowered his head and kissed her on the mouth; he took possession, there could be no doubt that's how he felt, but he did it gently, cajolingly.
Hermione slipped on arm around his neck and pulled. Instead of lowering to her, Snape used her grip to pull her to a sitting position, never taking his lips from hers. Once she was up, he released her mouth, edged his down to lick the curve of her neck where he'd nuzzled his large nose some time before.
With a grip on his black locks, she tugged, wanting to taste his lips. He responded with a sharp nip on her tender skin, which made her yelp, then moan.
"Miss Granger." His voice was silky with just a hint of smug. "Do you mind not moving so much?" Couched as a question, unquestionably and order.
Giggling as she had never done as a student, she said primly, "I'm sorry, Professor."
Snape lifted his head and gave her an incredulous look, one that said clearly he thought she'd lost her mind. After a moment, he spoke sternly, "Really." (Ohh he drawled that word out in a way that only he could do!) "Miss Granger, are you some silly first year, unable to contain her excitement? I never want to hear such an absurd noise while I'm trying to brew a delicate draught again. Do you understand me?"
Hermione nodded soberly.
Snape watched her suspiciously for a moment longer, as though afraid she'd burst into hysterical giggles and start spouting off about how dreamy that new beater for the Cannons was, and wouldn't it be just too much if he showed up at a Hogwarts quidditch match! With much patience, Snape lowered his head back to Hermione's body, letting his hair brush across her straining nipples, evoking another moan from her.
Much later that evening, curled companionably together, her tangled curls on his chest, she said quietly, "You know, every time you call me Miss Granger, I think back to the way this started, you and I."
He tipped his face down to kiss her lips and murmured against them, "I know…. That's why I do it, Miss Granger.
I think, for the time being, I'm going to just let this story be. But I have had inspiration for a story a few years before. Let me know if you'd be intrested in reading it, and I'll post it. Also, if you'd really like to see more on this story, maybe my Muses will strike again :) Thank you so much, Gentle Readers. Yours, with much much love! ~ Master Snape's Pet
