Warning...lemons ahead ; )

SSHG

By the end of the second week, she'd pulled through the worst of the withdrawals. I brought her some paperwork to keep her busy during the day, and she slept peacefully in my arms at night. Three days prior, she had asked me if I was ready to start teaching her. She asked me every night since. I'd told her no each time, needing her to be fully recovered from the effects of the potion before we began a physical relationship.

But that night, two full weeks after she'd entered into my care, she was fully healed and we both knew it.

We ate dinner in my quarters. I hadn't returned to work or even shown my face in the Great Hall since I'd found Hermione that night. Minerva was handling things in the outside world and I was sure she was doing a fine job of it. We would probably have to reemerge from our dream world the next day, but we still had one more night of solitude. And there was much yet to be done.

After dinner, I told Hermione to go take a hot bath. I'd learned in our time together that they relaxed her and often soothed her frayed nerves. She would need all the relaxation she could get for what lie ahead. When she emerged from my bathroom smelling of her jasmine shampoo, I was sitting up in bed reading a book and wearing a t shirt and sleep pants.

I was still slightly uncomfortable with her seeing me so casually dressed, but during her recovery we'd both seen each other at our worst. It bad bonded us and brought a sense of comfort that nothing like it could have. Once you've helped someone nearly unconscious in pain to the bathroom and had to wait for them to finish so they didn't pass out and hurt themselves, and once they have see you in the bathroom because you couldn't close the door in case they needed help, there wasn't much you couldn't face. We had that kind of intimacy now. And we were about to add another level to it.

She was wearing a long t shirt of mine, an annoying habit she'd picked up in our two weeks together. The chit had brought pajamas of her own to wear, but insisted on wearing my shirts to bed instead. I rolled my eyes and grumbled, but to be perfectly honest, it was a thrill for me to see her in them. Ridiculous, but true.

She walked to the bed and slid in next to me, pulling the cover up over herself. I knew what was coming and waited patiently for her to ask her question. It took her longer than it had any other night...mayhap because she knew the answer would be different this night.

"Severus," she finally began. "Are you ready to start teaching me?" I sighed heavily and set my book down on the night stand. Then I turned my upper body so that I was facing her.

"The last of the effects from your addiction have gone. As you appear to be fully healed, we can begin your instruction, if you wish." I waited, making her say that yes, this was what she wanted before I began anything. My traitorous body was already too eager to suit my tastes. This was not about my pleasure, though I was certain to obtain pleasure. It was about her. Teaching her to expect pleasure instead of pain, letting her learn her body in a safe setting.

"Yes, I want to start." Was there a hint of trepidation in her voice? Or had I imagined that?

"Very well then. Lie down." My words were gentle, but I could feel her trembling in the bed. I didn't know whether it was from fear or anticipation. I rolled over onto my left elbow, bracing my right hand above her shoulder and holding myself up over her. "Look at me," I urged softly. She bit her lip and then brought her eyes to mine. "Keep looking at me, Hermione. This will only bring you pleasure, I promise you that. There will be no pain of any kind. If you start to feel fear, all you have to do is voice your concern and we will stop. That's all it takes. One word and we will be done for the night. There's no need to rush. Do you understand?" I waited for her to nod, already afraid she would want to go all the way that night just to prove to herself that she could. But the idea of her hiding her fear from me, silently suffering in emotional pain while I took her...it robbed me of my breath and made me quake.

I gave her another long moment to think about what we were going to do, letting enough time pass that she could back out if she so chose. Of course, she didn't. So I lowered my head to hers and kissed her.

I could feel the tension from her body as I moved my lips against hers. Logically she knew I wouldn't hurt her. She even felt it in her heart. But her body had been conditioned that what happened in a bed between a man and a woman caused nothing but pain and shame. So I kissed her long and languidly. For the first time in a long time, I felt a little like a teenager, 'making out' in bed and waiting for the girl I was with to become aroused enough to do more. After a few moments, Hermione relaxed beneath me and allowed herself to enjoy the kiss. She twined her arms around my neck and pulled me closer. I didn't let her rush the kiss, but I took heart knowing that she wanted more. That her flesh craved mine, despite all that had been done to her.

Ever so slowly, I began to move my hands down her body. She froze when I moved down from caressing her face to her neck. I didn't stop, didn't give her time to over think it. I simply kept caressing her skin, sliding my fingers over every inch of her flesh. I touched every hidden erogenous zone that a horny teenager would overlook. I stroked the soft spot behind her ear, ran the tip of my finger down the lobe, traced the ridge of her clavicle. By the time I'd worked my way down to her breasts, she was boneless beneath me. Rather than go right to cupping their weight as I was sure she thought I might, I traced the undersides of them, let my palms slide along her rib cage, pressed my open hand between them over her heart. All the while I kept kissing her, teasing her lips and stroking her tongue with mine.

I purposely refrained from touching the part she ached me to stroke. Knowing it would heighten her pleasure, I continued to stroke her breasts all around except over their turgid peaks. In moments, she was arching her back unconsciously, trying to seek her pleasure. When I finally allowed my hands to stray there, it was in the lightest of touches. As I did, I settled my weight between her legs. I timed it so that the sudden pressure of me between her thighs was the exact moment I brushed my palms across her nipples. She didn't have time for fear as her body reacted to the long denied touch. She accepted my presence on her body because the pleasure overrode every other thought.

Then I started kissing my way down her neck. I kept my hands on her breasts as I nibbled the long column of her throat, stopping to pay special attention to the crook of her shoulder. Ever so slowly, I moved down, my mouth following the path my hands had taken. Once I'd moved down far enough that my lips were teasing the edge of her breasts through the t shirt, I started sliding my hands lower. I traced every rib bone, made slow circles around her belly button, danced my fingertips across her hipbones. As I teased her breasts again with my mouth, repeating the denial my hands had made, nibbling and kissing everywhere but where she wanted it most, I slid my hands beneath her back, running my palm down the line of her spine, caressing the curve of her hips. She arched to my touch, lifting her breasts to my mouth and her hips to my hands.

Moving ever so slowly, giving her time to stop if she needed, I lowered my mouth to her nipple at the exact moment I slid my hand between her legs. Again, she responded exactly as I'd hoped. The pleasure overrode any trepidation, leaving her wanting more. I closed my mouth around her nipple and sucked through the t shirt. She cried out, her hand fisting in my hair and holding me to her. I massaged her through her knickers, keeping the pressure soft and gentle, enough to make her arch to me with need. When I could feel her getting wet beneath the soft cotton, I lifted my head for a moment and vanished her t shirt and panties.

Her eyes flashed to mine, a moment's panic showing in them before I lowered my mouth to her breast again. I didn't start sucking right away, instead tracing my tongue around the damp tip and driving her to forget her unease, forget everything except for the feel of my tongue against her breast and the desire for more. When all the fear had left her eyes and they darkened with desire, I sucked first one peak and then the other into my mouth, moving my fingers between her legs in time with the movements.

She flinched involuntary at the first touch of my finger to her sex, but didn't tense or draw her legs closed. Moving slowly and methodically, I coated the tip of my index finger in her moisture and stroked it over her clit. Her eyes flew open again and a soft cry escaped her. She looked confused, lost and worried. Not worried I would hurt her, but worried about her body's reaction to my touch. She knew her own anatomy, of course, but I would have been surprised if she'd ever felt true pleasure here before. It must have been intense and almost uncomfortable in its foreignness.

I moved back up, taking her lips with my own and caressing her breasts with my free hand. I didn't move my other hand from between her legs but I didn't touch her any more, either. I let her adjust to the sensation of my fingertip resting against her, waited until I could feel her pulse beating every so lightly in her clit. Feeling the sensitive flesh become engorged with blood and become slickened with her desire. I kissed her deeply and then stroked her again. This time her legs jerked and her body bowed off the bed, but I kept going. I moved my finger to run light circles around her clit, building pleasure but not forcing it. Allowing her to relax into the touch of my hand. Her breath started coming quickly, Her body tensed, sweat dotting her forehead. Her brows drew together in confusion, pleasure and uncertainty warring within her.

"Severus..I..." she panted, biting her lip hard and trying to put into words that feeling which poets have been trying to articulate for centuries.

"Its ok, Hermione. Let go. Just let go." I kept moving my fingers, circling around and around, then sliding over the top. Her body strained, fighting the pleasure, unable to release because she simply didn't know how. A flush spread across her cheeks and chest, her heart hammering. "Let go, Hermione," I whispered. "Come for me." I lowered my voice until it was a silky purr, deep and rich. She gasped, her eyes squeezed shut, and her legs clamped closed around my hand. She shrieked, body arched off the bed and limbs straining. I only stroked over her clit once more, knowing she was too sensitive for anything else. As she came down from her high, I returned my mouth to her breasts, heightening her pleasure and feeling her body jerk in little aftershocks of sensation. Once she was again pliant on the bed, I moved my hands to either side of her head and kissed her lips languidly.

She responded more sweetly than I could have dared dream she would. Her arms wrapped around my neck pulling me closer. She pressed her breasts against my chest, exploring the sensation of the sensitive flesh against the material of my t shirt. Finally, I broke off the kiss and let her regain her breath.

I acknowledged the aching in my cock, the throbbing need for release, and then dismissed it. This night was wholly about Hermione and her needs. Not mine. And I had no desire to frighten her by grinding my erection against her hip.

"Severus, thank you," she whispered softly, a blush painting her cheeks a pretty pink. I wondered at the thought of a woman thanking me for an orgasm, but considering she'd never had one before even at her own hands, I supposed it was to be expected.

"You are welcome," I replied.

"But..." she bit her lip and paused. "We didn't...you know."

"Have sex?" I smirked at her shocked expression. "Not all sexual encounters are about sex, Hermione. The first step is to show you that pleasure exists in such unions, not to rush to the finish line. Why race to the end, when there is so much to enjoy on the ride?" My words were meant to incite pleasure and curiosity, and if her quick breaths were any indication, I succeeded.

"So, there are other things we will do?"

"Potion making isn't the only fine art and subtle science I excel at," I said with one brow lifted. She giggled. Actually giggled. I couldn't help the answering smile that came to my lips. The sight of her, naked in my bed, totally relaxed and giggling, was a balm to my soul. "When you're ready, we will continue your instruction."

"What if I'm ready now?" She sounded almost...cheeky. I quirked my brow again, heartened by her audacity. She'd become emboldened by her orgasm, by her trust and faith in me. She was finally learning the pleasure she was due, and didn't seem ready to let it go yet.

"Well then, Miss Granger, I suppose we can move on to the next lesson if you are so eager." I kissed her again, cock twitching at the thought of what I was about to do. It was an exercise in pure pleasure, a hedonistic delight that had always fascinated and enthralled me, whether I was doing it or having it done to me. I kissed down her throat again, lingered on her breasts, building her steadily upwards. She went more easily this time, her body still sensitive and knowing what to expect. I kissed down her stomach and across her hips, then shifted to settle myself on my stomach between her legs.

She gasped at the new position, her body opened up to my ravenous gaze. I kissed and sucked my way from the back of her knee up to her thigh. Then, I slid my hands under her ass and lifted her hips. I let my fingertips press into the slight hollow at the base of her spine and felt her moan at the pressure. Then I traced my tongue up and over her sex. Every muscle that had just relaxed tightened so quickly that her body almost snapped to attention. I smirked against her, knowing the havoc I was wreaking on her senses.

Then I began my slow assault on her nerve endings, letting the tip of my tongue touch her everywhere, tracing every dip and ridge of her sex. She gasped at each new sensation, writhing beneath me. Once I felt her legs start to tense, I focused all my attention on her clit. I took my time, stroking and teasing it, giving her light little licks alternated with broad strokes with the flat of my tongue. She keened and panted, her hands finding their way to my shoulders and clutching me. When her hips began to rock up to my tongue, I knew she was close. I began to move faster, no longer teasing but focusing on the moves I had learned brought her the most pleasure.

She breathed my name, then started to call it softly over and over again, unable to say anything else as her mind shut off and her body took over. I kept going, kept driving her higher and higher until I heard her let out a short scream and was rewarded by her thighs squeezing around my head. I kept moving my tongue over her, drawing out her release, and quickly slipped my hand between her legs. As she rode out her orgasm, I thrust one finger into her. She adjusted to the new sensation quickly, and I added a second. By the time she stopped calling my name and relaxed her hold on my shoulders, I had three fingers inside her, thrusting gently. She moaned, head lolling on the pillow. I curled my fingers inside her and smirked when she arched off the bed once more.

Slowly, I withdrew my hand and let her relax. She took longer to regain her breath this time, which I took as a good sign. Again, I carefully kept my erection from brushing against her. I didn't want all of my work that night to be washed away by a stray grazing of my cock against her hip. Once she closed her eyes and I felt her drifting off, I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. I wanted to stare at her, to memorize every line and curve of her face, but feared betraying my desire. So I stared up at my ceiling, watching the water ebb and flow through the enchanted transparent stones.

Just when I was convinced she'd fallen asleep, she let out a soft sigh and opened her eyes.

"Is it always like that?" she asked quietly.

"Honestly, no. Not for all couples. Some start too soon- boys too eager for climax cheating their lovers out of orgasm- some simply don't believe its possible- women who have been denied pleasure so long they give up hope of being brought to climax. And since half of sex happens up here," I tapped her temple, "once you convince yourself that it can't happen, then it won't. And some people are simply with inconsiderate partners who don't take the time."

"How terrible for them," she murmured. I shrugged.

"If they want to change it, then they can. Strong, stable couples can talk it out, address the issue and work to make it right. And less strong couples...its up to them to find someone who can please them. With very few exceptions, nothing is final until death. Its simply a matter of finding the will to move on. To be willing to search for someone who fits them."

"I'm so grateful my first time is with you, then." She stopped abruptly, bit her lip, blushed deeply and clutched the blanket to her chest. "I mean, not my first time, my..." Tears gathered in her eyes. I rolled onto my side, facing her, gritting my teeth in anger at what she'd gone through once more.

"Look at me," I growled. She slowly raised her eyes to mine. "Your first time will be with me. What happened to you does not count. That wasn't sex. That was rape. Your sexual experiences begin here, tonight. Nothing that happened before this night counts." I spoke fervently, from the bottom of my heart. I wanted her to understand this point almost more than any other. She couldn't go on thinking that what had been done to her was sex. It wasn't. It was a violent attack. Driven by anger and the need to control, to dominate. Nothing we did together would ever come close to what had been done to her.

"I guess its different."

"You're damn right its different," I snarled. She offered me a tenuous smile and settled back against the pillows.