One Night Is Not Enough by KerryMuggle
Disclaimer: I own nothing besides my student debt.
A/N: I LOVE reviews! Good or bad, one word or twenty words, thanks so much! You are all awesome. I used Google Translate for the French lines, so I hope they are correct. (I will provide the translation in a later chapter when it ties up the story.) I took Spanish in school, but there is just something about the French language that I find irresistible. Happy reading!
Before she could add on to her phrase, Severus crashed his lips to hers. In desperation they clung to one another, somehow hoping that this moment of violent passion would heal the wounds and make all that was wrong in the world right. If that were a possibility, it would have happened.
Severus tasted her and greedily wanted every ounce of what she was willing to part with. It was only when she released him a minute or so later that he realized just how long he had felt so much need laced with hatred that of all the people in the world, she was the one who brought such a reaction and feeling out of him. It had to be her - it could only be her.
He could feel her chest rising and falling heavily without even having to spare her one glance. That was most probably why she pulled away from him. Stealing a glance at her, Severus noted a sudden calm rushed over her. Her cheeks were dewy, almost an afterglow. He watched as she leaned back into the furniture, her chest still rising and falling slowly, as if trying to will her heartbeat to come down. In that moment he was absolutely mesmerized by her. Severus knew that it would be best to just walk out and pretend that such an incident never occurred, but as soon as he heard her words, he knew that the possibility never existed for him.
"What are you thinking?" she whispered as she turned her head toward him; her eyes were glassy, filled with both wonder and soft desire.
Severus could lie. He could leave her question unanswered. There were so many things he could say, or better yet, he could just ignore her and remind her that she was still a child, even if she was of legal age in the wizarding world. Never one to cut around the corners, it was now that honesty won out.
He leaned back into the sofa just as she had moments earlier, and replied with the brutal truth. If anyone were to pass by the door that was open they would see two people sitting on a couch with room separating them.
"I think of you."
Hermione decided to play the cards she was dealt, as usual.
"What about me?" she replied in a whisper.
"I am thinking about how much I want to rip your clothes off and have my way with you."
Severus didn't even think before he spoke. Wasn't honesty, after all, the best policy? Not giving her a chance to walk out of the room, he continued with another question.
"Tell me, Miss Granger… Hermione, have you ever been fucked?" Severus asked, turning his face towards hers.
He thought his use of the word "fuck" and her first name would scare her off, but by the look on her face, it only made her all the more intriguing. She wasn't going to back down, and while the thought scared Severus, he knew that he was in for an interesting conversation.
"I have, but I've never…" Hermione looked up towards the ceiling. "No one has ever made me come." Even through her embarrassment, she continued. "It has always been by another or my own hand." She still refused to look at him, even in her confession.
"I could devote the rest of my life to changing that."
"Tell me. Tell me what you would do to me." She whispered as she continued to look at anything besides her potions professor.
That luscious minx! Severus thought as he watched her. She was no innocent. No. All of his illusions of Hermione Granger being a child were now shattered. She was a woman.
He knew that he should stop, but he couldn't help it. He would indulge her. Maybe after a few details, she would realize just whom she was messing with. He wanted to tell her that he would chain her to his bed, defile her, make her regret ever thinking of him in such a way, everything and anything that would define their encounter as borderline rape, but just couldn't. Because he respected her, he was completely honest in his description.
"I would touch every inch of your flesh" he spoke while the ghosts of his fingertips touched the skin of her hand that lay in the space between them. He felt the goosebumps rise on her flesh, and he was sure the hairs on her neck reacted the same.
"I would make sure your flesh burned for mine with such sweet torture, but I would ask you not to beg because I think it is beneath you. You will never have to beg with me Hermione. Along with touch, I would taste you too in all of the places you would expect, and every place where you're too afraid to ask any other man to."
That last line obviously turned her on; he could feel her heartbeat beginning to rise again without even having to check her pulse.
"I want you to come knowing that it is me bringing you there."
She continued to stare at him, her hand curling slightly on the side of her. She was exquisitely sprawled out on an old, dingy sofa, her body completely clothed. Even with clothes, she was immaculate. He continued.
"I imagine you would taste like a ripened berry. Your flesh is pink, and I would slowly circle my tongue around your fruit until you come." He mimicked the motion of what his tongue would do on the palm of her hand. She gathered his hand in hers and was surprised when he didn't pull it away.
Without swallowing to gather her courage, she asked with no sign of wavering, "How many times will you make me come?"
"Every single opportunity I get. I want you to come by my tongue…my hand…and most importantly my cock. I want to come in you and mark you as mine. No other man can possess you the way I want to. Just watching you right now – you look like an angel that will either save me or destroy me. I don't know which one I want."
"What do I sound like when I come for you?"
This woman was going to be the death of him! He wanted to stroke himself in front of her, but their grip on each other's hand tightened. He refused to let go of the connection.
"You don't scream so loud. You know that orgasms aren't a competition, and you don't want to impress me with such a vocal range. I imagine you clutching onto my flesh, digging into me, gripping me. I fuck you so well and make you come so hard that you can't even scream out your release. Besides, I want to swallow it. I want every part of you I can get, even the pleasure I give you. I take it from you with a kiss, but"
"I take it back from you when I make you come." She replied, her eyes now locked on his.
If only they knew. If only everyone in this house knew what conversation was being held in the room. Severus thought, emboldened by the idea of it happening underneath everyone's nose.
"When will I feel your cock in me? When do I get to feel you?" Hermione continued.
"In due time, but you know I won't wait long. I won't deny your request. The thought of me finding such a release elsewhere is something you can't stand the thought of. I enter you and fill you with myself. I try repeatedly to fill you even more. I want to pierce your heart, and you are more than willing to take the force of it.
Seeing her imagination take over, Severus let Hermione add onto their game.
"I'd grip your hips to me and tell you to use me. Don't hold back. Give me yourself. Give me your soul. Let go… only for me. I'd mouth obscenities in French.
"Donnez-moi une nuit. Baise-moi. Donner la petite mort. Survivre à cette guerre et je vous aime..."
Severus didn't understand the last sentence, but he knew some of those words were the dirtiest she could come up with. He wanted to fuck the translation out of her. Feeling even more emboldened, he continued.
"Hermione, I can smell how wet you are for me."
"It's for you." She took a few seconds to continue, almost hesitant with what else she wanted to say.
Not knowing if she was just saying such a thing to continue their filthy conversation, or if she was truly being honest, he didn't want her to feel foolish for admitting such a thing.
It was then that Hermione crept her fingers, as if they were the legs of a spider, towards Severus. He saw her fingers as they crept towards his crotch. As if in slow motion, he knew that he should stop her, but he didn't dare break their spell. He would let her molest him if it was what she wanted; he wouldn't protest. And as if Merlin himself sensed the new bond, inches from her touching his cock…
"HERMIONE!"
It was Molly Weasley.
As if waking up from a horrible dream, Hermione stood straight up, almost at attention. Breathing a little heavier, Hermione didn't wait long to reply. She was about to cross the line with her professor. She was about to so something that she knew she would later suffer the consequences for.
Severus too realized just how far the two of them had gone, but he didn't regret one ounce of it.
"I'm in here Mrs. Weasley." She replied, hoping to all things holy that Molly wouldn't notice anything unusual. As the footsteps got closer to the room, Hermione ran her fingers through her hair, even though it wasn't tousled up from her previous encounter with her professor.
"Oh, there you two are!" Molly said as she noticed the potions professor and his student in the room.
"Hermione dear, would you please help me set the table?"
"Of course Mrs. Weasley. I'll be down in a just a second." Hermione responded, still flabbergasted.
As the two heard Molly's footsteps walk further away, Hermione stood still, waiting to see if what had just occurred between the two of them would be pushed aside and forgotten as a moment that never should have happened.
"I should go." Hermione said, keeping her eyes on the rug.
"Yes." Severus whispered.
As Hermione took the first step to leave, she felt him softly grasp the pinky finger of her right hand. Closing her eyes, desperate for what may come next, she didn't dare turn around to look at him.
"Will you come to me tonight?" he asked, still gripping her finger.
"Yes." Hermione responded immediately, knowing it was her turn to use that one word.
Realizing just what she was agreeing to, she reluctantly walked away, noticing that her professor wasn't so immediate in letting her go. Slowly descending the steps, Hermione could only think the further she was from him. Clutching the railing of the stairs, she knew that she shouldn't heed to his request, but for once she wanted to ignore her head and go with her heart. She wanted to feel something, even if it from her snarky professor.
After setting the table and informing everyone that dinner was ready, Hermione stepped back into the dining area to notice that there were two side-by-side chairs left at the table. Knowing that he would be down any minute, Hermione sat down and tried to focus on the food that was being passed around. She was too nervous to eat, but it would be odd if she decided to stick only to some vegetables.
Helping herself to some broccoli and cauliflower, Hermione noticed her professor take the seat right next to her. She could have ignored his presence, pretended that they didn't cross such a delicate line, but all her attempts at trying to play it cool were fruitless.
"Professor?" Hermione said as she handed him the bowl of vegetables.
He didn't have to thank her; the look in his eyes was good enough. The two tried to focus on the conversation at the table, anything to avoid the irony of their situation. After eating, the chatter still flowed. Severus was listening in on some rumors in regards to where Voldemort would ignite the war, but none of them were worth commenting on.
It wasn't until he felt her hand gently placed on his thigh that he knew he was doomed. She left it there, never moving it one inch. He took it as confirmation that she didn't come to her senses. She would indeed go to him. Acting on instinct, he placed his hand on top of hers, his own signature for the contract that was drawn from lust. His hand rested on hers comfortably for the next thirty minutes, no one having the tiniest inclination of the new bond formed.
Hours later, Severus lay in his bed, staring at the door to his room at Grimmauld Place. As much as he tried to deny his nervousness, Severus had to admit that his breath did stop whenever he would hear footsteps approaching his door. Figuring that maybe the woman did decide to back out of their deal, Severus tried to convince himself that maybe it was for the best. Once such a line was crossed, there could never be a point of return. All he had to do was be patient and wait.
Just as he started to give up, he heard the soft tread of footsteps as they slowly came up the stairs. His heartbeat picking up, he tried to convince himself that she had indeed given up. Not hearing any more footsteps, he sighed with relief that was laced with so much disappointment. Deciding to turn in, he was about to cut off the light next to his bed when he heard a soft knock.
Taking a second to collect himself, Severus got up and walked towards the door. It could be Molly. Potter might have some stupid question. Anything he could think of to convince himself that Hermione Granger wasn't on the other side of that door. Slowly creaking it open, he didn't know if he felt relief or grief that she stood there, a question in her eyes as to whether or not what she was about to do was right.
Not daring to speak to her, Severus opened the door to allow her to enter. Rather than take the chance of someone spotting them, Hermione quickly walked in and silently closed the door. Not turning to face her professor, she knew that he was only a few feet away from her.
She didn't bother to change her clothes; what was the point, really? Afraid to turn around, but wanting nothing more than to do it, Hermione gathered her courage to face the man who so easily enraptured her. Turning around, she noticed him standing there, watching her, willing her to make the first move.
"I don't know what to do." Hermione whispered. "I… I've never done anything like this before."
"Ever had a one night stand?" Severus asked.
"No. I've also never thrown myself at a professor. Do you think me foolish? I don't want you to see me as that insufferable little girl constantly seeking approval. I've evolved and I want to bloom for you. So, do you think me foolish, standing here, knowing that we will never be able to go back?"
Still waiting at the door, Hermione noticed her professor slowly edging toward her. Not knowing if he would talk some sense into the both of them or allow her to give into him, he gently grasped her head and pulled it to his body. Holding her, cradling her, he inhaled her scent as he wrapped his arms around her.
"I think you are the most divine creature I have ever met. You are no more foolish than I."
Hermione sought out his lips as the two continued what was interrupted earlier that evening. This time their kisses were soft, sensual. They would only have one night, so there was no desire to rush the pleasures that awaited them. Slowly walking to his bed, there was no desperate attempt at removing each other's clothing; their exploration only lie in the contact of lips on lips.
"This is wrong!" Severus said as he turned his face away from her. He wanted to push her away, but he couldn't.
"I…I hate myself for wanting you. Forgive me. Please forgive me…" He spoke into her hair.
Seeing him break in front of her, Hermione didn't know how to respond. Her stoic professor, the death eater, and all around arse couldn't face her because of his shame. Wanting to comfort him, but not use a word to convince him otherwise, she understood then the true power of touch.
Hesitating before doing so, Hermione softly placed her hands on his shoulders. She didn't see Severus close his eyes when her touch met his body. She didn't see the hitch of his own breath as she moved her hands to his hair and softly ran her fingers through it, massaging his scalp. He knew his resistance was now useless. Feeling her press his shoulders down towards the bed, he gave into her, feeling the joy of the plush mattress and bed coverings. It was the first time he ever noticed the comfort of his bed at Grimmauld Place.
Never taking their eyes off of each other, she smiled softly when she noticed Severus relax in the bed. She realized that he wasn't going to fight her. He had given in to her, and while there was the slight tinge of fear in his eyes, there was never a trace of regret. If she wanted to walk out, she could. If she wanted to continue, she could. Everything was in her power if she so chose it.
Grabbing his hand, she brought it to her face, still in control as she traced his fingers across her eyelids, her rosy cheeks, and her lips. Feeling him move his fingers at his own accord, she darted out her tongue to touch his finger. Even though he was now in control, she still held onto his hand as it traced her neck and moved down her torso. Knowing that there was no turning back, she brought her lips to his, sealing their fate, whatever it may be.