Sorry the updates have been a bit irregular; I will try to get back to posting a chapter at least every other day ; )
HG
I had the feeling that she wanted to go farther that night, but before she could ask, she fell asleep. I was relieved, despite the aching in my groin. I didn't want to rush her, to do everything all at once and overwhelm her.
During the night, she'd curled closer to me as if subconsciously seeking reassurance. When I woke, her head was on my chest and my arms were around her. All in all, I have to admit it was the most pleasant way I'd ever woken up.
The next day, we reappeared in school. Almost immediately, staff went up to her and offered their condolences. She accepted them dazedly, and looked to me for explanation. Once we were seated, I informed her quietly that I'd told the staff her father had died and she took some personal time to recover. I'd explained my own absence by stating we could get more work done if I accompanied her. The disapproving looks on the faces of Minerva, Hagrid and Poppy would have been comical under normal circumstances. I'd heard more than one 'give the poor girl a break,' murmured when I'd informed them. Not that I gave a fuck what they thought.
So Hermione accepted condolences for the death of the father she'd hated, and I acted understanding and sympathetic about the man I'd killed with my own hands. Every time I got angry at the memory of what he'd been doing to her and I felt my hands clench into fists while the rage beat a rhythm in my veins, I would hear in my head the sound of his neck snapping, over and over again like a soothing lullaby for my fury.
We made it through the day without incident. As the hours till nightfall shrank away, my apprehension grew. I knew she would push for sex that night. I worried she wasn't ready. I worried I was too ready. I worried she would push herself too far and cause irreparable damage to her delicate self esteem if she had to stop half way through.
Once we were in my rooms, the air had become thick with tension. Hermione started to remove her clothing and then stopped, heat rising in her cheeks. She sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the pillowcase. I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and went over to her, stilling her hand on the pillow. I knelt before her, ran my hand through my hair, and rubbed the back of my neck.
"Hermione, relax. You're so wound up I can feel the stress coming off of you in waves. We don't have to do anything tonight if you don't want to. You are in total control of this situation. If you wanted to stop now and never do anything again that would be fine. If you wanted to wait a year and try again, that would be fine. If you want to learn more tonight, then ok, but stop worrying."
"I just...I want to get through this," she said fervently. "I don't want there to be more things to worry about, more things that I have to learn not to fear. I hate my fears. I want to do everything all at once and have done with it, but I know I can't."
"Don't rush yourself, Hermione. You have the rest of your life to figure this out. There's no need to push. Let it happen when and how you want it to." I cupped her jaw and let my thumb feather across her lips. "Everything we do, what and when and how, is up to you. You are wholly in control. I am but the teacher. You are the mistress. Even if I am more powerful than any other witch or wizard in the world, you still are more powerful than me in this because I do only what you wish. I am at your command. Your control of the situation is total." I stayed on my knees in front of her, letting my words sink in. It was of the utmost importance that she realize the truth of them. She needed to feel in total control in order to be truly fearless. She'd been stripped of choice, of the right to decide what happened to her own body, for so long. I wanted to give it back to her. I wanted to lay my entire world at her feet and fulfill her every desire. And I wanted to do it her way.
She watched me for a few long moments, as if testing my resolve. I only stared back at her, letting myself become lost in her eyes. Turning myself over to her. Then she let out a soft breath, as if accepting the truth of my words for the first time. Her face filled with a kind of delight I could barely comprehend. She licked her lips and let her hand wander into my hair. She curled her fingers, tightening her hold and pulling my face up to hers. She kissed me, the first full kiss totally driven by her. When she let me go, it was my turn to be breathless and hazy with desire.
"Make love to me," she murmured against my lips. I blinked away the cloud of lust and searched her eyes, making certain she knew what she was doing. She stared back at me, steel in her gaze. Steel...and desire. She wanted me. She knew the pleasure I could bring her and was thirsty for more. Without another word, I captured her lips again and started undressing her.
By the time I had her naked, I'd touched her everywhere, stroked and caressed her until she was aching for more. She attempted to break through my fortress of buttons and failed miserably. We chuckled about it together, a break in the heady mix of lust and anticipation surrounding us. I quickly divested myself of frock coat, vest and dress shirt. Before I could move to take off my t shirt, she pulled it off over my head. I flailed a little, blinded by black cotton. She shifted her weight back to get the shirt clear of my awkwardly lifted arms and lost her balance, falling back on the bed with the t shirt landing on her face. She giggled and I laid my body atop hers, snatching the shirt out of the way so I could capture each of those precious giggles with a kiss. My own dark laughter became lost in the kiss, our amusement turning to arousal at the first feel of naked skin to naked skin. I started the process of driving her to orgasm before I even had my trousers off. I wanted her to climax at least once before I tried to have sex with her.
I managed three before I couldn't wait any longer.
She was breathless and glowing, her body relaxed and soft beneath me. I could feel the slickness of her arousal each time I shifted my hips and my cock brushed against her. Even boneless from release, she still arched up to me, wanting more. I told her how wicked she was, how sinfully sexy I found her. How much I loved the way her body reacted to my touch. I praised her in a thousand little ways that she deserved to be praised. Then I cradled her face between my hands and looked deeply into her eyes. She tried to arch up to me, to rush me, but I held back. I simply watched her, memorizing the feel of her in my arms. The look of desire and satisfaction on her face. Every minute detail about that moment.
"You are the most exquisite creature I have ever seen," I murmured to her. "Thank you, for the privilege of showing you pleasure, for the honor of being your first, for the trust you show me by sharing your body with me." I watched her eyes, saw them flare with emotion, felt her body slip into utter relaxation and comfort. She threw her arms around me and kissed me with a passion I'd never felt before. And when she was fully, totally and wholly ready, I slowly started to slide inside of her.
She was slick, her body well prepared for my ingress, accepting me without restraint. I marveled at how tight she was. How hot her body felt. In moments, I was fully inside of her. I kept my eyes on hers, watching for any sign of discomfort. I knew I'd made her body so ready that there wasn't a chance of physical pain, but I stayed hyper alert to the possibility of emotional pain. Fear. Guilt. Anything except pleasure and desire. I pulled back and pushed in once more, my pelvis kissing her clit softly. She gasped and looked up at me with that awed expression. Her body was accepting me, taking what I could give and demanding more. I had no idea what she'd expected, but this obviously wasn't it. Her surprise couldn't have been any more clear if she'd announced it through a megaphone.
I smirked, my lips twisted up in pride and gratitude. Pride with myself for giving her such pleasure and her for her courage. Gratitude for her body's implicit trust in me. Her mind's absolute faith in me. It was heartening and humbling. But aside from all those emotions, I couldn't deny the fiery lust coursing through me as well. I could control it, of course. I wasn't some sex starved lecher who couldn't subdue his urges. I took my time, despite my body's frantic need, making sure to give her every ounce of pleasure I could. She gasped with each thrust, each time I pressed against her clit and rubbed the sensitive spot inside of her at the same time.
The pace I set was slow and languorous, despite the fact that I would have loved nothing more than to pound into her until I found nirvana. I kept her on edge for a long time, varied the pressure of my hips against her, the depth of my thrusts, making her ache so fiercely for release that she begged me to take her harder. It was exactly what I'd been waiting for. Her decision for more. Her wild need making her want more, want hard and deep and rough, without the fear there coloring her vision. When she cried out for more, I finally gave in, holding her hips so I could thrust into her harder and faster, pushing deeply inside of her over and over again until we both exploded in bliss.
Her scream was long and loud, sweet music to my soul. Her nails scored my back and I could only hope she left scars there that I could examine and cherish for years to come. Her legs wrapped around my waist and squeezed as she clenched around me, her body rising higher and higher until she simply couldn't take any more and collapsed. I rained kisses over her forehead and nose, her cheeks and chin. I gently threaded my fingers into her hair and fought the urge to tell her how much I loved her. To tell her that she was my world, my everything, my heart lying vulnerable outside my chest.
Instead, I kissed her lips softly and then smirked down at her. She smiled back at me slowly, then a sparkle came into her gaze.
"Don't look so smug, Professor," she chided with a laugh.
"You know what they say," I returned. "The star pupil is only as good as the teacher. And you, Miss Granger, are certainly a star pupil."
"And you, darling Professor, are incorrigible." She kissed me lightly and then shifted experimentally. We were still intimately joined. I pulled away from her slowly, giving her time to adjust to the new sensation. She moaned low, stretched and then turned to me. "I think you must be right. It can't always be like that for everyone else. If it were, no one would get anything done. Everyone would spend all their time in bed, and the world would fall apart."
"That may be the case, but I firmly believe that if more people were truly sexually satisfied, the world would be a much more pleasant place. I mean, can you imagine going out and robbing or killing when you feel like this?"
"You do have a point," she agreed. "The only thing I want to do right now is snuggle up to you and sleep." She yawned as if to accentuate her point and then curled her body up to mine. I tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed the top of her head. In the darkness, she traced the line of my nose, the curve of my lips. "Did you mean those things you said earlier, Severus?"
"Not all men mean the things they say during sex, Hermione." I didn't want her to believe everything some sex crazed idiot told her in the throes of passion. "But I meant every word I said." I felt her relax once more. She brought one of my hands to her lips and kissed my fingertips.
"Thank you," she whispered. "For sharing your body with me. For having the courage and patience to teach me. For having the compassion to give me the control I needed to relax. For being the kind of man I can trust with my body, my heart and my soul." She kissed my fingertips once more and then pressed my hand to her heart. She pressed her own hand over my own heart.
For long moments, I didn't trust myself to speak. My throat felt tight and my eyes burned. If I didn't know any better I would assume I had whittlewort poisoning. But I knew this wasn't any kind of poison. It was the sweetest ambrosia. It was an expression of love and gratitude from the woman I adored. I kissed her deeply, pouring my emotions, all my love and devotion into the kiss. Then I pressed my forehead against hers and we shared breath until we fell asleep.