Severus was shocked to find her standing outside of his chambers so late in the evening, looking absolutely lovely in her muggle outfit. He didn't move, merely took in every detail of her form. She had tortured him for three days, playing around with Finnigan; she had to make the next move. His eyes locked with hers as she finally did move, taking slow steps towards him, causing the knot in the pit of his stomach to tighten, almost unbearably, and his heart to start droning in his ears. He didn't let any of this show. He just stood there. He just stood there when she was standing right in front of him. He just stood there when she slowly raised her hands to his shoulder. He just stood there when she pressed her lips, ever so gently, oh so softly, against his own.
And finally, finally, Severus moved. With a slowness, a gentleness, that belied his desperation for her, his hands moved to her back, stroking along it and up into her hair, finally allowing his fingers to tangle into the wild hair that had been driving him crazy for the past few days. His lips moved just as softly over her own and his tongue moved forward, stroking languidly along her lips before meeting her own tongue in a slow dance around her mouth. By this time she had curled her hands around his neck, one stroking through his hair, pressing her body as close to his as possible, clearly craving his closeness as much as he did hers.
Realising that they were still standing in the cold dungeon corridor, Severus slowly moved away from her lips, missing the intimate contact instantly, despite the spark of pleasure and pride that flashed through him at the disappointed sigh that escaped Hermione. He stared warmly into her eyes for a moment, a soft smile playing around his lips, before linking her hand in his and leading her back into his chambers.
...
Hermione's heart was fluttering madly as he guided her by the hand into his chambers. She couldn't believe what was happening. She didn't know what she had expected, but it definitely hadn't been for him to reciprocate her kiss as gently as he had done. Or for him to smile at her. That had been the first time his rare smile had been directed at her, and it had made her heart thud almost painfully. His face had lit up, seeming youthful and warm. His normal snarling demeanour had disappeared, and as alluring as she usually found it, this new side to Severus Snape was incredibly attractive.
The feel of his large, rough, warm hands surrounding and pulling at hers made her feel both extremely safe and turned on at the same time. She tried to push the latter feeling into the recesses of her mind, knowing that she had come here to talk to him, not to spend the night in his passionate embrace, as unbelievably tempting as that did sound.
However, all thought of any impending discussion left her mind when she found herself standing opposite him in his tastefully decorated sitting room, still holding his hand. The second her eyes flicked back to his own, which were no longer expressionless but dark with heat and arousal, her own desire came back to the forefront of her mind in full force, taking over her body completely. She gave a low, frustrated moan and launched herself at him, initiating contact for the second time in a matter of minutes. Once again, he matched her intensity exactly. Having imitated her softness before, he now responded to her passion, practically growling when her lips met his, answering the harsh thrust of her tongue with a harsher thrust of his own, and digging his fingers into the flesh of her thighs when she hooked one of her legs around his own, pushing herself into his obvious erection.
Suddenly he spun them around, pressing Hermione onto her back on the couch, covering her body with his own, without breaking the kiss. He was straddling her, one knee either side of her hips, bending over her body and holding her head in his hands, kissing her fiercely. Her own hands were tangled in his hair, her body arching, attempting to fill the gap between their upper bodies. Failing to do so, she changed tactic and slid one of her hands from his hair to his chest, caressing his hard muscles almost reverently while sucking on his tongue, causing him to hiss out loud and buck his hips into hers in an uncontrollable motion of desire. His own hands took a similar path to hers, trailing down her neck, along her collarbone and then finally arriving at the top of her breasts. The heat in her body was almost unbearable. Hermione moaned and arched up again in encouragement, and then Severus' hand was there, cupping one of her swollen breasts and causing a wave of hot desire to roll through her...
The new level of intimacy caused Hermione to suddenly awake from her haze of desire and weakly, and with very little conviction, push against his chest and mumble "Stop, stop" against his swollen mouth.
...
Severus felt like he was in heaven. Not only did he have the beautiful, intelligent witch of his dreams underneath him, but she was kissing him with just as much passionate abandon as he was kissing her. He had never felt such desire before, and had never received so much in return. Everything was perfect until she muttered those two awful words: "stop, stop".
Thinking he was doing something wrong, that she had changed her mind, that she had just been playing him, Severus jumped off of her immediately, standing tall and stiff a good two metres away from the couch, his face closed off and expressionless once again, contradicting the tumult of arousal, confusion and hurt going on inside of him. Those had been the first spoken words of their encounter.
Hermione seemed confused. She sat up slowly, dazed and breathing heavily. She looked up at him with a questioning expression, lifting her hand to gently touch her swollen lips with her fingertips. It was a beautiful sight to behold. She didn't look as if his kisses, his touches had been unwelcome. Then why had she told him to stop? Why had her hands pressed against his chest, a clear symbol of rejection?
"I came, I came down here to talk" were the next words to shakily leave her mouth, as if she were unsure that her voice would still be working. "Severus, what are you doing over there?" His name on her lips for the first time was almost his undoing, his emotionless facade wavered before returning again, still unsure of her feelings towards what had just happened. Slowly she stood up, seeming a bit unstable, he observed smugly - clearly he had had an effect on her. In an imitation of the beginning of their meeting that evening, she slowly walked towards his unmoving figure. Again, she lifted her hands to his shoulders, standing close to him. "Severus" she said again, sending shivers down his spine, "I want you. Stopping you from kissing me, from touching me, was the hardest thing I have done since defeating Voldemort." The fact that it was her speaking somehow prevented the shock of pain which normally ran through him at the mention of the snake's name. "But I don't just want your body," she continued, "I want you, I want all of you. I want to get to know you. I want a relationship with you. I came down here tonight, not to sleep with you, but to tell you this. I need this... thing between us to be more than just a physical relationship. If you don't want that I understand."
Severus was shocked at what he had just heard. Not only had she said exactly those things which he had hoped to hear, but she had spoken aloud the very thoughts, the very feelings which had occupied his own mind before she had arrived. But before he could respond, she had already turned and started moving towards the door, away from him.
In two long strides, he caught up with her, grabbed her hand and pulled her close, her head tucked against his chest and his arms wrapped around her back. She immediately reciprocated in kind, enclosing him in her own grasp. "I want all of you too," Severus whispered against her head, before breathing in deeply, realising for the first time that she smelt of almonds and vanilla.