AN:

For an "enhanced" reading experience, these song—played in this order—heavily influenced the writing and mood of this chapter:

Are You Gonna Be My Girl by Jet

Acquainted by The Weeknd

Chapter Thirteen: Territory

Hell, he was in hell. There was no other word for where Severus found himself. No descriptor strong enough. If not for the promise of seeing her again, he would have gone back on his word to Regulus and turned tail to run the moment they crossed the wards into the club's main space.

The night had barely begun and already the space was filled to capacity. All around him witches and wizards who were falling into their cups, gyrating against one another to the pulsing beats that pounded down around them. The dark sensuality of Gilded beckoned them in with a magic all its own. The atmosphere whispering in the ears of unsuspecting patrons. Tempting them into lowering their inhibitions. Preparing them to welcome their next mistake with open arms.

Nothing about where he was or the tame debauchery that took place was of any interest to him. His preferences having always been for quieter, more private pastimes. For wanton, silken sins that were expressed through gentle caresses designed to cause addiction, not passing fancy. For her though, he would weave through the crush of bodies and tolerate—if only just—the inebriated mating rituals of those that surrounded them wishing to flirt with the forbidden and taste the taboo. So if this was where she wanted to be, he would follow gladly. Serving as a guide and protector as she twirled through hell. The devil at the back of a sweet angel, keeping all others away and reminding those that got too close that while they could look, they would never be granted the chance to touch.

"Severus, love, try not to look so put out," Narcissa chuckled, interrupting his cynical spiral as she took a sip of the fizzy, lavender concoction delicately clasped between her hands. Setting the martini glass down and meeting his vexed glare, she reached over to rub at the space between his brow and sighed, "You're going to give yourself wrinkles if you don't relax a little."

"Ignore him, Nars," Regulus said, swirling the rich, honey-colored liquor in his glass. "He's just pissy because his little pen has yet to make an appearance."

"I'm going to murder you, Reg," Severus hissed just as Cissy squealed, "What? A witch? You must tell me everything," bouncing in her seat as she first began to scoot closer to him before changing her mind and maneuvering herself to become plastered to Regulus's side.

"Have you met her? What is she like? Obviously she must be intelligent and beautiful to have turned his head for more than a minute.

"Does she favor his preferences? You know how picky he can be; and that's before you even add in the whole, Daddy thing.

"Will she be attending the season? Who is her family? I need to properly introduce myself. I can't have him out galavanting around with her without making sure they know exactly whose family he's attached to. I won't have those society cu—"

"Witch, would you slow down?" Regulus laughed, taking a slow sip of his scotch.

Stretching his fingers to reach across his forehead, Severus began massaging his temples as he leaned his head back in the booth and said, "You both are insufferable," wishing the club soda with a lemon twist in his glass were alcohol. He had wanted his mind to be free of any influence—Hermione's presence drugging enough—when he met her, but listening to both his brother and his cousin as they gossiped would test anyone's sobriety.

"Oh please," Cissy dismissed. "You find everything insufferable. If you wish to wound, find a better insult because at this point that one holds no meaning."

"It's true. You use it so often, it's basically become an endearment," Regulus agreed.

"Whatever you have to tell—" he flatly started to respond, his words coming to an abrupt end as his attention was diverted back to the dance floor as he lifted his head up.

Around them the throbbing drop of the hedonistic bass line began to meld with an uptempo clap of cymbals before disappearing completely. With the music changing, the dance floor began to clear of those that had been humping and groping each other. As more space became available, a frenzy of jitterbugs rushed forth, hands clapping and skirts sashaying as they began circling about and partnering off.

In a back corner, coming from a small section of lounge seating not unlike where he currently sat, he watched with rapt attention as a little doll of a witch wrapped in a pink gossamer dress dug her sweet Mary-Jane heels in, laughing as she protested being dragged out onto the dance floor. Raising his hands up in surrender, the half-brother he was loath to acknowledge as such started to back away, quelling the sudden urge he felt to storm across the floor and stake his claim. From behind her however, Lupin took a running start and leapfrogged over her short frame, grasping her hand upon landing, and yanking her into a dance hold where he proceeded to use her unbalance to twirl her out onto the floor.

She stumbled at first, trying to keep up with the music and anticipate the next steps. But by the time the chorus hit, she had fully submitted to following the werewolf's lead, her steps not quite flawless but practiced nonetheless.

His little angel was truly hypnotic as she was swept across the dance floor. The curls of her hair, bouncing and flying with each movement. Her smile broad and luminescent as Lupin flipped her over and under his arms. Her legs captivating as they kicked and jumped, the ruffled layers of her dress swirling up with her fast paced twirls to offer a peek of what he assumed were fancifully adorned tops to the white, thigh high stockings she wore.

A vision. She was a vision of perfection. Every want and desire he had ever conceived, however fleeting, combined and funneled into one entity. Into a heavenly, cherubic temptation he yearned to possess. To consume. To protect. To take care of. To love and obsess in equal, drowning, world shattering measure.

"She's beautiful," Narcissa whispered, or so he thought, his senses to the world outside of Hermione admittedly dulled. "Who is she?"

"Hermione Lukovë," Regulus answered. "Presently no known family. Durmstrang graduate. Recently relocated to London and awaiting a Ministry review of her SEALs so they can be transferred to NEWTs. Though what she hopes to do upon the change, she hasn't yet specified. Until then, she currently works at Between the Covers."

"Between the Covers? Severus, is she the witch we saw the other day? The one in that darling skirt, I pointed out to you?"

Nodding his head, he picked up his sweating tumbler and finished the rapidly flattening club soda. "That would be her"

"And how do you know so much about her, Reggie?"

"Because he corresponds with her and she regularly comes to visit him at the castle. What do you call her, Lady Black?" Severus said, trying for levity and failing miserably as his words bit off at the end.

"I told you, not my Lady Black. I'm just making sure the word is spreading that while seemingly available, she is, in fact, spoken for. It's called being a good brother."

"I'm sure that's all it is."

"You know, for someone so observant, you're quite thick, Sev. She is definitely not to my liking. She's too—"

Slamming the glass back down, he warned, "Pick your next words carefully."

"Boys, no fighting over the witch," Narcissa mockingly chided.

"Who's fighting, Nars? Severus here is just getting riled up with jealousy over Lupin touching his little girl and is taking it out on me."

"Are they a thing?" Narcissa absently asked, pretending to be heavily interested in her cocktail.

Glancing back out to watch Hermione and track exactly where Lupin placed his hands in her body, Severus incredulously reminded, "Cissy, he tried to kill me."

"No," she corrected. "Sirius, the rabid, jealous mutt that he is, tried to kill you. That poor wizard was just as much a victim as you. Why he still hangs around those awful, so-called friends of his, I haven't a clue.

"Merlin, he's fit," she appreciated, taking a gulp of her drink and pulling at her blouse to fan herself.

"Down girl," Reggie snickered. "You look like you're about to go into heat."

"What? Only Severus gets to have his arousal on proud display?" she quipped, pointedly nodding her head in the direction of his lap where his cock was doing its damnedest to create an impression in the fabric of his black jeans. "Well that's sexist."

Rolling his eyes at the witch he so easily swung from adoring like a mother to wanting to throttle like a sibling, Severus adjusted his cock before standing. Holding his other hand out for her, he said, "Come on, allow me to make your introduction with one of my schoolyard bullies. If you insist on finding that hairy beast attractive, I'm at least going to use it to my advantage. Outside of the two of us, there isn't a wizard in existence that's unaffected by your… charms," he chuckled before pretending to gag as she adjusted her cleavage.

Starting to walk away from their table, they both turned back and pointed at Regulus as they ordered, "Behave," making him throw his hands up before slouching back in the booth to pout, only for it to instantly be replaced with a cheeky grin as he shouted, "Use protection!" making Severus flip him off over his shoulder.

Out on the floor, the swinging tempo of the previous block of songs started to fade and give way to something moderately slower and infinitely more erotic. His pulse and breath answering the music's call to succumb to his desire. Weaving through the couples as the floor started to fill back in, Severus kept Narcissa close at his back, not wishing to lose what he hoped would be his leverage in parting Hermione's guard dog from her side.

Feeling a pressure he hadn't been fully aware was gripping him release upon seeing his witch step out of the werewolf's coaxing arms, Severus let go of Narcissa's hand and closed what remained of their distance with two long strides, his little angel bumping into him on her next step back.

"Oh goodness," she yelled over the music, turning around. "I'm so…" her words trailing off as she looked up and registered whose space she had invaded.

Bending down so his towering height enveloped her, his cheek a whisper away from her own, he greeted, "Angel, you look positively stunning," his fingers coming up to stroke the bare skin of her arm, the breath of her exhale warming his skin. "A beautiful and perfect picture of tantalizing innocence in want of corruption."

She pulled back just enough so her sparkling eyes met his through her lashes, the apples of her cheeks flush, and her glossy lips parted as she started to reply.

"Snape," Lupin seethed from her side, beginning to extract her from his touch.

Not deigning him worthy enough to look away from Hermione, he boredly returned, "Lupin, have you met my friend, Narcissa Black?" trailing his fingers the rest of the way down her arm to lace his fingers through hers and keep her anchored to him.

"You mean, Malfoy? No, nor do I care to. Anyone who marries Lucius is…" he spitefully began, his words fading as he took in a long, deep inhale, drawing Hermione's attention back to him and thus Severus's.

"Remus, are you okay?" she asked, raising their joined hands to place them on his chest.

Gently removing her touch—something Severus was grateful for having never wanted to be close enough to touch the werewolf ever again—he looked between them, the mutated coloring of one of his eyes swirling until the iris was entirely gold, the pupil shifting size and shape to match. Nodding his head and looking to where Narcissa was standing, he warned, "You hurt her, and I won't need Sirius to put you in my path at the next moon, Snape," reaching out to offer his hand to Cissy.

Grabbing hold of his cousin's upper arm, Severus kept her from accepting the wolf's paw and murmured, "Careful with that one, Cissy. He bites."

"So do I," she teased, shaking him off, her elegant fingers delicately resting in Lupin's palm. "Dance with me?" she commanded more than asked of him.

Nearly wanting to growl like the beast before him, Severus's fingers tightened around Hermione's as Lupin leaned in and spoke directly to her ear, his words lost to the music.

Giving him a soft, reassuring smile, she nodded and spoke just loud enough for her words to carry, "I'm more than good. Go; have fun," before quickly stopping him with a hand on his forearm, her face contouring with concern as she went to step up to murmur something in his ear, Severus instantly following at her back.

"I'd like to see him try," Lupin responded, his dual colored eyes fixated on Narcissa as he pulled back and squeezed Hermione's shoulder in parting before allowing himself to be led away by the regal blonde.

With the other couple melting into the crowd, Severus twirled Hermione around, the lace trimmed layers of her dress rippling up in waves as he brought her dangerously close; her sensual, floral scent drowning out the pungent, clawing odors of the dozens of perfumes and colognes that surrounded them. Snaking his long arm around her waist and down to her hip—his fingers wishing to fist the darling, tissue-thin fabric and pull it up her thighs until the answer of what adorned her sweet stockings was revealed to him—he pulled her in the rest of the way, her back flush to his chest and his body curling over hers so his lips could easily brush the shell of her ear, making her shiver in his hold as he said, "My turn," guiding their hips to the rhythm of the music.

"You are relentless," she slowly said, turning towards him so her words fanned over his cheek. Raising their joined hands up and out in an elegant arch, she brought them both in so he was completely wrapped around her. Positioning their hands so they rested just beneath her breasts—his over hers with the velvet tails of the bow at the V-ed collar of her dress tickling his knuckles—she said, "Tell me, Snape—"

"Severus, remember? Or Daddy if you're feeling particularly eager to please, little angel."

"Mmm, I do like that," she sighed, making him smile in early victory before amending, "Tell me, Severus," a chuckle vibrating his chest at her flirtatious cheek. "Have you any idea how terrible of an idea this is?"

Feeling the rapid flutter of her heart beneath his fingers, the whispers of her increased breath, and the rising heat of her skin, he blew a cool breath along her exposed shoulder, her neck beautifully tilting back so her head rested upon him. Pushing on the top of her pelvis so her back curved and her bum further pressed into him, he chased the cool rush of air with a hot groan along her skin as she forewent the pace of the song that played in favor of rubbing herself along his cock.

"I'm more focused," he started, stopping almost immediately to leave an open mouthed kiss on her shoulder as he thrust back against her. Hugging her closer and turning his head into her palm as she started to scratch at the nape of his neck, Severus said again, "I'm more focused on how right this feels and how utterly bereft and addicted you leave me when you run. How wholly you've consumed my entire thought and desire. So yeah, maybe this is a terrible idea, but can you honestly tell me that you don't feel it too?"

Giving in to the urge of peeling her dress up her body, he slowly glided his hand down the front of her thigh, leaving her ample time to stop him, reaching for the ruffled hem. Bunching up the layers to expose her stocking, he held her dress in place with his palm and traced the laced edges along her skin. Satisfaction thrummed through him as he toyed with the satin bows in the center, the feeling chased away by the heady sensation of his magic beginning to roll and rush through his veins until it crackled and sizzled around them.

"That you don't feel your magic come alive at my touch? Feel it race through you, desperate to escape and meet with mine?

"This isn't a common attraction or arousal, sweet girl. It's so much more. Something more rare than a once in a lifetime occurrence. Nothing about this can truly be as bad as you fear.

"So trust me," he pleaded, his fingers creeping up the outside of her thigh, her dress falling back down to hide his advance. Fingering the ruffle trim of her knickers, before sweeping his hand back down before the temptation to drift to her sweet center proved too much, he further beseeched, "Open yourself to me, to the possibility of us. Let me in, all the way in. Whatever holds you back, release it and trust I'll be there to catch you."

Turning in his arms and freeing the hand that was trapped under his to tangle in the ends of his hair, Hermione looked up at him, her teeth sinking deep into her bottom lip as she nodded.

Cupping her chin, Severus pulled her abused lip free, his eyes honing in on where her pink tongue darted out to lick at him. At the contact she went rigid and began to retreat from his arms, her previously serene face filled with open desire shuttering at warp speed. Not wanting to lose the part of herself she desperately sought to smother—the very part of her that shined like a beacon in the dark, beckoning him to kneel before her—and be set back to zero once again, he pushed his thumb the rest of the way into her mouth, encouraging her with, "Good girl, soothe yourself on Daddy," while combing his fingers through her hair.

Keeping her against him, he swayed to the music, his own tension slowly releasing as her cheek hesitantly came to rest against his sternum. Circling her fingers around his wrist, she kept her eyes downcast as she tentatively started to suck on him, her grip tightening with each pull of her cheeks. Further down, his cock strained against his zipper, eager to replace his fingers in her warm mouth.

As the music played and the song shifted, Severus kept a protective hold around her, raining gentle praise upon her, while she used him to work through whatever anxiety and doubt had taken her mind hostage. Her simple show of trust in him working to capture a bigger piece of his heart and fill in one of several hundred hairline fractures that had been left behind on the battered organ. His own insecurities fading away like early morning mist under the sun's warmth.

With the passing of another song, his vulnerable, little witch finally met his eyes. The sight of her sucking on his fingers and looking up at him through her lashes was enough to bring him to his knees, his resolve further crumbling as she nodded again.

Cupping her chin, he prodded, "Words, angel. I need your words," while silently begging she wouldn't fold in again as everything he wanted was within his arms at that very moment.

Sucking harder on his thumb before releasing him with what he imagined would have been an erotic pop if not for the loud music, Hermione boldly said, "Take me home."

Raising an eyebrow, Severus waited her fidgeting out, needing her to lay her needs and desires out as plainly as he had done his own. Rules, rituals, and protocols could come later. First and foremost, he needed her to fully accept herself and in turn him. Suppressing the caregiver in him or little in her could work for a night, but he wanted so much more than that with her. And to have that, to truly have that, she had to cut every string that tied her down. He could provide her with the scissors; encourage her as she snapped each one. But beyond that, he couldn't offer her much more until she willingly laid it all at his feet to carry for her. This wasn't something he could push, no matter how desperately he wished he could.

Stepping back from him, Hermione had his heart plummeting only for her small hands to catch it as she laced her fingers through his. Dancing up on her toes, she reached for his ear—her heels hardly giving her any advantage in their height difference—and with a sweet sing-song, asked, "Will you let me be your little baby, Daddy?" pulling out an almost feral groan from him as he cupped the back of her head and gave her a punishing kiss for scaring him.

Bending down, Severus scooped his arms under her bum, making her squeal as he picked her up. With her soft thighs wrapped around his tapered hips and clenching in such a way that he couldn't wait to feel their squeeze on him as he was buried inside her, her pussy strangling his cock as she came, he peppered her with kisses to her cheek, jaw, neck, and behind her ear, saying, "Be sure, angel, because Daddy's going to ruin you for anyone else if you say yes."

Wiggling in his arms so the hem of his shirt rode up, gracing his abdomen with unfettered access to the damp spot on her knickers, she kissed him—finally initiating things between them and further solidifying the end of her fight—before asking against his mouth, "Please, Daddy," the two words searing themselves on his very soul.

Damned or kismet, or some glorious place in between, she sealed their fate as she repeated, "Please take me home and ruin me," propelling him forward as he lowered her to her feet and tightly grasped her hand before forcing their way through the club's patrons to the back alley's Apparation spot.

Either way, his little angel was about to tame and leash the devil inside himself. Her every will and whim, forever his to grant.

AN:

Small teases for the next chapter:

Title — Firsts

Songs Off the Playlist — Die For You (Remix) by The Weeknd Arianna Grande;Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran; Let Me by Zayn;PILLOWTALK by Zayn