The cold emanating from the stone floor leaches into my flesh as I rest against the toilet. I have the strangest urge to call him back – to explain to him that whatever it is he’s thinking, he has it wrong, but the words are pushed back as another bit of unsettled stomach makes its way up.
I can’t believe how bloody awful this entire escapade has turned; it wasn’t supposed to go this far, and now – now not only has it gone from being a pleasant diversion, it’s morphed into – gods, I don’t know what this whole thing is. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I reach for the towel just inches away from my feet. Sitting here, freezing my arse off, isn’t going to solve the muddled mess I’ve made.
My stomach rebels with every small movement, as I push myself onto my feet and scramble around from something – anything – to take the edge off this nausea. Of course, there’s nothing here – I’ve never been that lucky.
Wrapping the towel around my body, I make my way through the sitting room to my bedroom. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I wonder if I have the energy to dress; between my interlude with Snape earlier and my body’s desire to heave up my internal organs, all I want to do is sleep.
As much as I might not want to, I know I should call Madam Pomfrey; she’s been monitoring my condition since I made the choice to deal with my illness by magical means. I stretch out across the bed, reaching for my dressing gown, where I’d carelessly tossed it earlier.
“Why aren’t you dressed?” His voice comes from nowhere, startling me. I snatch the dressing gown from the bed, pressing it close to my chest as I sat up – as if the fabric could shield me from his ire. My stomach rolls in rebellion.
He stands in the doorway, one arm braced on the frame. Behind him, I can see the vague, shadowy outline of someone else.
“Oh, do move, Severus,” Poppy Pomfrey snaps, pushing past Snape. She stalks forward, placing a cool hand on my forehead.
“Nauseated?” I nod.
“How often?”
“On and off the last couple of weeks – nothing terribly serious though.”
“When was your last menstrual period?” I give a pointed look over her shoulder, not daring to answer whilst he is in the room.
Poppy whirls around. “Really, Severus! Give the girl some privacy.”
“I’m not leaving,” he says, walking further into my bedroom. “I’ve an… invested interest here.”
I roll my eyes at his pronouncement, muttering “nosy git” under my breath.
“It’s your decision, Hermione – shall I chase him out, or let him stay?”
I look into his face, and he quirks an eyebrow – a subtle dare that says to try to kick him out.
“He can stay,” I reply in an ungracious tone.
Poppy makes a small “hrmping” sound in the back of her throat. “Fine. When was your last menstrual period?”
“Two – maybe three months ago.”
“Ha,” Snape barks out.
“Oh, do shut up,” I respond, put out.
“Have you lost any weight?” Poppy continues on, as if Snape hadn’t interrupted.
“About a stone, though – to be fair, I haven’t really felt like eating much lately.”
“Stomach cramps?”
“Not really, and no diarrhea, no blood in my stool, I haven’t had any muscle cramps either. The skin rash hasn’t come back since the last batch of potions, and I, thankfully, haven’t had any seizures at all. Does this answer the majority of your questions?”
“All right, no need to get stroppy,” Poppy mutters. “I still have a few questions that need to be answered. Any tingling limbs? Have you had any mouth sores? And, most importantly, have you been taking the required potions daily?”
“No, no, and yes – though they taste bloody awful. I’ve also been avoiding all products made with milk, too much fiber, and I haven’t had any alcohol in weeks – so yes, I’ve been bloody managing this disease!” My voice is calm, though I feel like screaming.
“Wait, you mean to tell me the Ileitis Potions I’ve been brewing in my spare time are for her?” He narrows his eyes a bit. “I was under the impression that those required potions were for a student – not a member of the facility. Why the extra, unnecessary steps?”
“Because,” I say with a sigh. “I didn’t want preferential treatment, and because… well, this is a private matter. I’d rather it not be bandied about – a part of interoffice gossip and all that.”
Snape visibly stiffens. “Are you insinuating that I am unable to keep a confidence?”
“Enough,” Poppy says forcefully. “Hermione, lie back and be quiet.” She turns towards Snape. “Severus, sit down, and stop baiting the poor girl. I need to run a diagnostic spell on her, and I won’t have a proper reading if she’s overly agitated.”
I hide my smile at the hagrined expression that crosses over his face as he sits in the armchair by my wardrobe. I lean back against my mattress, pulling the dressing gown firmly to me for modesty’s sake – though heaven knows why I bother. Poppy looms above me, the tip of her wand glowing faintly orange as she waves it over my body.
“Well, it doesn’t look as if your condition is deteriorating – though it is troubling that you didn’t call me when your nausea first started.”
“I didn’t think it was important,” I mutter.
“And you are in such a wonderful position to gage whether that is important or not, Granger,” Snape snarls.
“Like it is any of your business!”
“I should bloody think so,” he shouts. “You obviously agree with me, otherwise you’d have had Poppy chuck me out of the room earlier.”
The bastard had a point. That didn’t mean I was going down without a fight.
“I let you stay,” I hiss, “because it frankly wasn’t worth the effort to expel you from my room.”
“Not. Worth. The. Effort!” he growls. I watch as his jaws clenches, and I swear I can hear him grinding his molars together in frustration. He leans forward in the chair. “I was certainly worth the effort when my cock was shoved up inside of you, and I was certainly worth the effort when you went though all that trouble of obtaining –“
“Enough!” Poppy yells, cutting off whatever he was going to say. I had forgotten she was in the room; Severus does that to a person – makes her forget their surroundings. “Obviously, the two of you have some issues you need to work out. However, considering the circumstances now is not the time.”
She turns towards Severus. “Anything you have to discuss with her can wait – I’ll not have you disturbing my patient.”
Snape says nothing as he stands up. With a curt nod to Poppy, he strolls from my bedroom.
She pulls the folded blanket up from the end of the bed and covers me with it. “Hermione, you need rest. I’ll be back to check on you later this evening – no gadding about the castle, I want you to spend the day relaxing.”
“Thank you, Poppy,” I say softly as she tucks the material around me.
“Think nothing of it it.” With a final pat of the material, she, too, leaves.
The room is awfully quiet, and I’m feeling quite warm. Snuggling deeper into the mattress, my eye lids drift shut.
~~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~~
“Severus,” I murmur sleepily – I’m having the most wonderful dream. It feels as if my entire body is tingling – waiting for his touch. I try to reach for him, but my limbs won’t move. I tug on my arms but nothing happens; I jerk fully awake. My hands are tied to the bedposts.
“Do you really think I would let it end there?” he whispers in my ear, gently pinching one of my exposed nipples.
“Severus, what –” I lose track of my sentence as he slowly draws my right nipple into his mouth. He sucks on the taut peak, and I groan in response.
I can feel his fingers gently caressing my thighs, stroking the sensitive flesh in a leisurely pattern with the lightest of touches. A gasping breath catches in my throat as my hips involuntarily arch into his touch and the soft touch vanishes.
"Please," I whimper softly.
He rewards me with a gentle caress, the pad of his index finger moving deliberately over my thighs before tracing the outer lips of my labia. He nips at my puckered nipple, his teeth closing over the peak – almost, but not quite painful – followed quickly by his tongue, soothing away the ache.
His touch becomes bolder, as one long finger presses past the fleshy part of my vagina to tease my clit. It moves around and around, at a maddeningly slow pace, barely brushing against the hidden hood. I want, desperately, for him to pick up speed. Once again, my hips arch up, seeking to intensify the soft touch of his fingers. And, once again, he pulls back, removing himself completely from me. This time back across the room.
"Don't stop," I cry out, my chest heaving as I wriggle against the mattress. "Please, Snape - don't stop."
He ignores my pleas and I hear the creaking of a chair as he sits down.
"What do you want from me?" I'm practically on the edge of hysteria now - frustrated beyond belief.
He ignores me. I can feel his eyes on me as I struggle on the bed, squeezing my thighs together in an effort to alleviate the intense arousal he's left me in. The maneuver fails, miserably.
"Capitulation," he says after what seems like an eternity.
"Fine," I hiss out. "Anything you want – it's yours."
"Really, Granger, you should know better than to blindly offer anyone whatever they want." The chair creaks as he shifts his weight before standing up.
"Then tell me what you want, damn it!"
“I told you,” he whispers, moving closer to the bed. “Complete surrender.”
“Please…” I beg. I need him to touch me – I need to feel him.
“You beg so prettily,” he murmurs, reaching out to push my hair back from my face. His fingers trail down my neck, across my chest until his hand is gently cupping my right breast. My back arches up as I try to press myself against his hand, and he removes it.
“None of that,” he growls. “I want answers – a truthful answer will gain you what you desire.” His lightly tweaks my left nipple, and I moan. “Pervicaciously misleading answer will end this. Throughout it all you will not move – I am in charge. Do you understand?”
I nod my head, not daring to speak.
“Do you understand?” he asks forcefully.
I bite at my lower lip, not daring to answer – as vulnerable as I am at this moment, agreeing to his demands would make me completely defenseless; not a situation anyone should be in when dealing with Severus Snape.
The silent room seems to magnify every movement he makes; I can hear the rustle of his robes as he straightens up, the fabric whispering as he moves away from me.
The prat is leaving! How dare he leave me in this state!
“I promise,” I whimper. “Please, don’t go! I’ll answer your questions truthfully, you bloody bastard – just don’t leave me like this.” I can hear him move closer to the bed.
“There was one other condition,” he says softly.
“How do you expect me not to move?” I screech.
Silence greets my question.
“Fine,” I say, fairly gritting my teeth. “I won’t move.”
Softly – just a whisper of a touch really – his fingers return, tracing a small pattern across my skin. The wetness between my legs increases, and I desperately want to clench my thighs together for some relief. It takes all my will power to stay still as his fingers trail down my body. I groan softly as a finger slowly strokes the outside of my labia.
“Who supplied the Polyjuice Potion?”
“I – ah – I made it myself.” As a reward for my honesty, he slides one finger into me. I moan in pleasure as he pushes deep, curling his finger just so. The feel of him stroking me is incredible, and my hips start to move with his hand. Abruptly, he pulls his hand from me. I let out a pitiful whine.
The bed shudders as he shifts his weight. His hand pins my hips to the bed. I can feel him breathing against me.
“How many people did you obtain samples from?”
“Does it mat –” I start to ask.
“How many, Hermione?” he asks again, nuzzling the fleshy part of my vulva.
“Just you,” I whisper as his hot mouth descends on my sex. His tongue lazily laps at my clit, drawing it out. I moan in pleasure. His hands curl under my arse, pushing my thighs widely apart as he angles my hips up. The light, teasing touch of his tongue drives me insane. He sucks my clit into his mouth, pushing me to the brink of an orgasm. I scream in ecstasy, trying to keep my hips as still as possible.
“Severus… please,” I beg. I can’t help it – I need him more than I can say – have always needed him.
The bed dips oddly, as the rustling of fabric fills my ears. There is just enough light left in the room for me to see his beautiful body disrobing.
The mattress absorbs his weight as leans over me. His breath tickles my chin as his body settles over me. I pull at the restraints, wanting to touch him – needing to touch him.
“Not yet,” he murmurs before gently kissing my lips.
He rises up on his knees, the base of his right hand wrapped around the glorious hard length of his cock. With precise movements, he brushes the head of his cock against the tip of my clit, teasing me with soft, gently touches. I know he’s teasing me to see if I’ll break our bargain and move.
I can scarcely manage to control myself as he positions himself, his cock slowly sliding into me. He hardly gives any length to me before pulling out, only to slide – just as slowly – back into me. The pace is maddening – if he wanted to drive me insane, this is the surest method to it.
He pushes into me again – barely half way this time. His face is a study of intense concentration.
“Why me?” he asks, holding himself perfectly still.
“Because,” I whisper softly, my hips bucking up against him of their own accord, trying to draw him deeper into me.
He yanks back, pulling so violently from me that I gasp at the loss. Our eyes meet – I know his intentions and feel a moment of panic. I squeeze my eyes shut, though it’s probably already too late.
“Answer me,” he says in a deceptively soft voice.
I shake my head no.
“Answer me.”
Still I refuse to answer – I dare not give voice to the reasons why – I can’t give him that sort of power over me.
He utters a harsh oath under his breath, and shifts his weight. My eyes snap open; I’m afraid that he’s going to leave.
He grips my chin, forcing me to look into his face.
“Tell me, Hermione.”
“I can’t.” My voice sounds husky and strange as I reply.
Suddenly his mouth is one mine – hot and demanding – in a bruising, conquering kiss. I can feel it all the way down to my toes. His body settles over me, his hands sliding down my body until they rest on my hips. His fingers dig into the fleshy part as he fits himself against me.
His mouth muffles my scream as he plunges his hard cock into me – one deep thrust that has him almost touching my cervix. It feels glorious. My breasts bounce against his chest as he sets a harsh, driving rhythm.
He rises to his knees, pulling my hips up as he moves deeper. The bed moves, knocking against the wall with every thrust. My hips arch up, matching him thrust for violent thrust – I want him so deep inside of me that I don’t know where he ends and I begin.
I can feel an orgasm building, my body clenching around him as tingles start to make their way throughout my body. He surges into me, a nice deep thrust – and then stops.
“Please, Severus, don’t stop,” I beg him, angling my hips up.
“Then tell me, Hermione.” He moves a finger between our bodies and gently brushes it against my clit. I hiss out a small breath of anticipation.
“Just tell me…” He flexes his hips, and his cock moves a bit inside of me. “…and you can have what you want, Hermione.”
Slowly he starts to move again, soft thrusts that make me want to cry out in frustration – I was so close before, and now I’m just hovering on the edge.
“Tell me…” he groans, pressing into me. His finger circles around my clit, as he moves in and out of me. My hips move against his, trying to urge him on.
“Severus,” I sob. “Please, Severus… I need… I need more!”
He makes a low, growling sound in the back of his throat as his hips begin to flex against mine.
“Severus… please.”
Our bodies move in tandem, each of my upward thrusts is met with his answering one in perfect timing. I can feel the waves of pleasure surging through my blood – so close to an orgasm it hurts. Faster and faster he moves, his cock filling me. I can feel every inch of him – can feel his cock swelling as he nears his own climax. I arch my hips up once more, literally screaming “Severus” as my orgasm rips through me.
Severus thrusts into me once, twice, and then a third time before grunting harshly as his release floods into me. His exhausted body falls on top of me – a hot, sweaty weight that feel wonderful – and my hands, suddenly free from their bonds, instinctively wrap my arms around him. The only sound in the room is our heavy, harsh breathing.
I don’t know how long we lay there, quivering and satisfied, before he shifts his weight to roll off me, pausing for a moment on the mattress before sitting up. There is so much left unsaid between us – things I know he wants answers to, but I’m too exhausted to deal with that right now.
If I were in my right mind, I’d say nothing and let him go – but… obviously I’m not, because I say softly, “Severus, stay,” just as he reaches for his discarded robes.
He sits there, gloriously naked, his robes in his right hand, staring at me in silence.
“Please,” I whisper.
“Budge over,” he says gruffly.
I scoot to the other edge of the bed, and as he lies down beside me, I wonder if I’ve completely gone around the bend.
~~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~~
Author’s Notes:
Well, after nearly an entire year (okay, technically longer than a year), I've finally something to share. Not sure if this is the end or not, but don't be surprised if another chapter does show up at a later date. Enjoy.
Hermione’s condition is mild form of Crohn’s Disease. While not fatal (at least it shouldn’t be fatal if properly treated), it is quite uncomfortable for anyone experiencing it. To read more about this condition, please go here: http://www.strengthforcaring.com/conditions/crohns-disease/overview/
http://www.mamashealth.com/stomach/crohn.asp
I can’t believe how bloody awful this entire escapade has turned; it wasn’t supposed to go this far, and now – now not only has it gone from being a pleasant diversion, it’s morphed into – gods, I don’t know what this whole thing is. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I reach for the towel just inches away from my feet. Sitting here, freezing my arse off, isn’t going to solve the muddled mess I’ve made.
My stomach rebels with every small movement, as I push myself onto my feet and scramble around from something – anything – to take the edge off this nausea. Of course, there’s nothing here – I’ve never been that lucky.
Wrapping the towel around my body, I make my way through the sitting room to my bedroom. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I wonder if I have the energy to dress; between my interlude with Snape earlier and my body’s desire to heave up my internal organs, all I want to do is sleep.
As much as I might not want to, I know I should call Madam Pomfrey; she’s been monitoring my condition since I made the choice to deal with my illness by magical means. I stretch out across the bed, reaching for my dressing gown, where I’d carelessly tossed it earlier.
“Why aren’t you dressed?” His voice comes from nowhere, startling me. I snatch the dressing gown from the bed, pressing it close to my chest as I sat up – as if the fabric could shield me from his ire. My stomach rolls in rebellion.
He stands in the doorway, one arm braced on the frame. Behind him, I can see the vague, shadowy outline of someone else.
“Oh, do move, Severus,” Poppy Pomfrey snaps, pushing past Snape. She stalks forward, placing a cool hand on my forehead.
“Nauseated?” I nod.
“How often?”
“On and off the last couple of weeks – nothing terribly serious though.”
“When was your last menstrual period?” I give a pointed look over her shoulder, not daring to answer whilst he is in the room.
Poppy whirls around. “Really, Severus! Give the girl some privacy.”
“I’m not leaving,” he says, walking further into my bedroom. “I’ve an… invested interest here.”
I roll my eyes at his pronouncement, muttering “nosy git” under my breath.
“It’s your decision, Hermione – shall I chase him out, or let him stay?”
I look into his face, and he quirks an eyebrow – a subtle dare that says to try to kick him out.
“He can stay,” I reply in an ungracious tone.
Poppy makes a small “hrmping” sound in the back of her throat. “Fine. When was your last menstrual period?”
“Two – maybe three months ago.”
“Ha,” Snape barks out.
“Oh, do shut up,” I respond, put out.
“Have you lost any weight?” Poppy continues on, as if Snape hadn’t interrupted.
“About a stone, though – to be fair, I haven’t really felt like eating much lately.”
“Stomach cramps?”
“Not really, and no diarrhea, no blood in my stool, I haven’t had any muscle cramps either. The skin rash hasn’t come back since the last batch of potions, and I, thankfully, haven’t had any seizures at all. Does this answer the majority of your questions?”
“All right, no need to get stroppy,” Poppy mutters. “I still have a few questions that need to be answered. Any tingling limbs? Have you had any mouth sores? And, most importantly, have you been taking the required potions daily?”
“No, no, and yes – though they taste bloody awful. I’ve also been avoiding all products made with milk, too much fiber, and I haven’t had any alcohol in weeks – so yes, I’ve been bloody managing this disease!” My voice is calm, though I feel like screaming.
“Wait, you mean to tell me the Ileitis Potions I’ve been brewing in my spare time are for her?” He narrows his eyes a bit. “I was under the impression that those required potions were for a student – not a member of the facility. Why the extra, unnecessary steps?”
“Because,” I say with a sigh. “I didn’t want preferential treatment, and because… well, this is a private matter. I’d rather it not be bandied about – a part of interoffice gossip and all that.”
Snape visibly stiffens. “Are you insinuating that I am unable to keep a confidence?”
“Enough,” Poppy says forcefully. “Hermione, lie back and be quiet.” She turns towards Snape. “Severus, sit down, and stop baiting the poor girl. I need to run a diagnostic spell on her, and I won’t have a proper reading if she’s overly agitated.”
I hide my smile at the hagrined expression that crosses over his face as he sits in the armchair by my wardrobe. I lean back against my mattress, pulling the dressing gown firmly to me for modesty’s sake – though heaven knows why I bother. Poppy looms above me, the tip of her wand glowing faintly orange as she waves it over my body.
“Well, it doesn’t look as if your condition is deteriorating – though it is troubling that you didn’t call me when your nausea first started.”
“I didn’t think it was important,” I mutter.
“And you are in such a wonderful position to gage whether that is important or not, Granger,” Snape snarls.
“Like it is any of your business!”
“I should bloody think so,” he shouts. “You obviously agree with me, otherwise you’d have had Poppy chuck me out of the room earlier.”
The bastard had a point. That didn’t mean I was going down without a fight.
“I let you stay,” I hiss, “because it frankly wasn’t worth the effort to expel you from my room.”
“Not. Worth. The. Effort!” he growls. I watch as his jaws clenches, and I swear I can hear him grinding his molars together in frustration. He leans forward in the chair. “I was certainly worth the effort when my cock was shoved up inside of you, and I was certainly worth the effort when you went though all that trouble of obtaining –“
“Enough!” Poppy yells, cutting off whatever he was going to say. I had forgotten she was in the room; Severus does that to a person – makes her forget their surroundings. “Obviously, the two of you have some issues you need to work out. However, considering the circumstances now is not the time.”
She turns towards Severus. “Anything you have to discuss with her can wait – I’ll not have you disturbing my patient.”
Snape says nothing as he stands up. With a curt nod to Poppy, he strolls from my bedroom.
She pulls the folded blanket up from the end of the bed and covers me with it. “Hermione, you need rest. I’ll be back to check on you later this evening – no gadding about the castle, I want you to spend the day relaxing.”
“Thank you, Poppy,” I say softly as she tucks the material around me.
“Think nothing of it it.” With a final pat of the material, she, too, leaves.
The room is awfully quiet, and I’m feeling quite warm. Snuggling deeper into the mattress, my eye lids drift shut.
“Severus,” I murmur sleepily – I’m having the most wonderful dream. It feels as if my entire body is tingling – waiting for his touch. I try to reach for him, but my limbs won’t move. I tug on my arms but nothing happens; I jerk fully awake. My hands are tied to the bedposts.
“Do you really think I would let it end there?” he whispers in my ear, gently pinching one of my exposed nipples.
“Severus, what –” I lose track of my sentence as he slowly draws my right nipple into his mouth. He sucks on the taut peak, and I groan in response.
I can feel his fingers gently caressing my thighs, stroking the sensitive flesh in a leisurely pattern with the lightest of touches. A gasping breath catches in my throat as my hips involuntarily arch into his touch and the soft touch vanishes.
"Please," I whimper softly.
He rewards me with a gentle caress, the pad of his index finger moving deliberately over my thighs before tracing the outer lips of my labia. He nips at my puckered nipple, his teeth closing over the peak – almost, but not quite painful – followed quickly by his tongue, soothing away the ache.
His touch becomes bolder, as one long finger presses past the fleshy part of my vagina to tease my clit. It moves around and around, at a maddeningly slow pace, barely brushing against the hidden hood. I want, desperately, for him to pick up speed. Once again, my hips arch up, seeking to intensify the soft touch of his fingers. And, once again, he pulls back, removing himself completely from me. This time back across the room.
"Don't stop," I cry out, my chest heaving as I wriggle against the mattress. "Please, Snape - don't stop."
He ignores my pleas and I hear the creaking of a chair as he sits down.
"What do you want from me?" I'm practically on the edge of hysteria now - frustrated beyond belief.
He ignores me. I can feel his eyes on me as I struggle on the bed, squeezing my thighs together in an effort to alleviate the intense arousal he's left me in. The maneuver fails, miserably.
"Capitulation," he says after what seems like an eternity.
"Fine," I hiss out. "Anything you want – it's yours."
"Really, Granger, you should know better than to blindly offer anyone whatever they want." The chair creaks as he shifts his weight before standing up.
"Then tell me what you want, damn it!"
“I told you,” he whispers, moving closer to the bed. “Complete surrender.”
“Please…” I beg. I need him to touch me – I need to feel him.
“You beg so prettily,” he murmurs, reaching out to push my hair back from my face. His fingers trail down my neck, across my chest until his hand is gently cupping my right breast. My back arches up as I try to press myself against his hand, and he removes it.
“None of that,” he growls. “I want answers – a truthful answer will gain you what you desire.” His lightly tweaks my left nipple, and I moan. “Pervicaciously misleading answer will end this. Throughout it all you will not move – I am in charge. Do you understand?”
I nod my head, not daring to speak.
“Do you understand?” he asks forcefully.
I bite at my lower lip, not daring to answer – as vulnerable as I am at this moment, agreeing to his demands would make me completely defenseless; not a situation anyone should be in when dealing with Severus Snape.
The silent room seems to magnify every movement he makes; I can hear the rustle of his robes as he straightens up, the fabric whispering as he moves away from me.
The prat is leaving! How dare he leave me in this state!
“I promise,” I whimper. “Please, don’t go! I’ll answer your questions truthfully, you bloody bastard – just don’t leave me like this.” I can hear him move closer to the bed.
“There was one other condition,” he says softly.
“How do you expect me not to move?” I screech.
Silence greets my question.
“Fine,” I say, fairly gritting my teeth. “I won’t move.”
Softly – just a whisper of a touch really – his fingers return, tracing a small pattern across my skin. The wetness between my legs increases, and I desperately want to clench my thighs together for some relief. It takes all my will power to stay still as his fingers trail down my body. I groan softly as a finger slowly strokes the outside of my labia.
“Who supplied the Polyjuice Potion?”
“I – ah – I made it myself.” As a reward for my honesty, he slides one finger into me. I moan in pleasure as he pushes deep, curling his finger just so. The feel of him stroking me is incredible, and my hips start to move with his hand. Abruptly, he pulls his hand from me. I let out a pitiful whine.
The bed shudders as he shifts his weight. His hand pins my hips to the bed. I can feel him breathing against me.
“How many people did you obtain samples from?”
“Does it mat –” I start to ask.
“How many, Hermione?” he asks again, nuzzling the fleshy part of my vulva.
“Just you,” I whisper as his hot mouth descends on my sex. His tongue lazily laps at my clit, drawing it out. I moan in pleasure. His hands curl under my arse, pushing my thighs widely apart as he angles my hips up. The light, teasing touch of his tongue drives me insane. He sucks my clit into his mouth, pushing me to the brink of an orgasm. I scream in ecstasy, trying to keep my hips as still as possible.
“Severus… please,” I beg. I can’t help it – I need him more than I can say – have always needed him.
The bed dips oddly, as the rustling of fabric fills my ears. There is just enough light left in the room for me to see his beautiful body disrobing.
The mattress absorbs his weight as leans over me. His breath tickles my chin as his body settles over me. I pull at the restraints, wanting to touch him – needing to touch him.
“Not yet,” he murmurs before gently kissing my lips.
He rises up on his knees, the base of his right hand wrapped around the glorious hard length of his cock. With precise movements, he brushes the head of his cock against the tip of my clit, teasing me with soft, gently touches. I know he’s teasing me to see if I’ll break our bargain and move.
I can scarcely manage to control myself as he positions himself, his cock slowly sliding into me. He hardly gives any length to me before pulling out, only to slide – just as slowly – back into me. The pace is maddening – if he wanted to drive me insane, this is the surest method to it.
He pushes into me again – barely half way this time. His face is a study of intense concentration.
“Why me?” he asks, holding himself perfectly still.
“Because,” I whisper softly, my hips bucking up against him of their own accord, trying to draw him deeper into me.
He yanks back, pulling so violently from me that I gasp at the loss. Our eyes meet – I know his intentions and feel a moment of panic. I squeeze my eyes shut, though it’s probably already too late.
“Answer me,” he says in a deceptively soft voice.
I shake my head no.
“Answer me.”
Still I refuse to answer – I dare not give voice to the reasons why – I can’t give him that sort of power over me.
He utters a harsh oath under his breath, and shifts his weight. My eyes snap open; I’m afraid that he’s going to leave.
He grips my chin, forcing me to look into his face.
“Tell me, Hermione.”
“I can’t.” My voice sounds husky and strange as I reply.
Suddenly his mouth is one mine – hot and demanding – in a bruising, conquering kiss. I can feel it all the way down to my toes. His body settles over me, his hands sliding down my body until they rest on my hips. His fingers dig into the fleshy part as he fits himself against me.
His mouth muffles my scream as he plunges his hard cock into me – one deep thrust that has him almost touching my cervix. It feels glorious. My breasts bounce against his chest as he sets a harsh, driving rhythm.
He rises to his knees, pulling my hips up as he moves deeper. The bed moves, knocking against the wall with every thrust. My hips arch up, matching him thrust for violent thrust – I want him so deep inside of me that I don’t know where he ends and I begin.
I can feel an orgasm building, my body clenching around him as tingles start to make their way throughout my body. He surges into me, a nice deep thrust – and then stops.
“Please, Severus, don’t stop,” I beg him, angling my hips up.
“Then tell me, Hermione.” He moves a finger between our bodies and gently brushes it against my clit. I hiss out a small breath of anticipation.
“Just tell me…” He flexes his hips, and his cock moves a bit inside of me. “…and you can have what you want, Hermione.”
Slowly he starts to move again, soft thrusts that make me want to cry out in frustration – I was so close before, and now I’m just hovering on the edge.
“Tell me…” he groans, pressing into me. His finger circles around my clit, as he moves in and out of me. My hips move against his, trying to urge him on.
“Severus,” I sob. “Please, Severus… I need… I need more!”
He makes a low, growling sound in the back of his throat as his hips begin to flex against mine.
“Severus… please.”
Our bodies move in tandem, each of my upward thrusts is met with his answering one in perfect timing. I can feel the waves of pleasure surging through my blood – so close to an orgasm it hurts. Faster and faster he moves, his cock filling me. I can feel every inch of him – can feel his cock swelling as he nears his own climax. I arch my hips up once more, literally screaming “Severus” as my orgasm rips through me.
Severus thrusts into me once, twice, and then a third time before grunting harshly as his release floods into me. His exhausted body falls on top of me – a hot, sweaty weight that feel wonderful – and my hands, suddenly free from their bonds, instinctively wrap my arms around him. The only sound in the room is our heavy, harsh breathing.
I don’t know how long we lay there, quivering and satisfied, before he shifts his weight to roll off me, pausing for a moment on the mattress before sitting up. There is so much left unsaid between us – things I know he wants answers to, but I’m too exhausted to deal with that right now.
If I were in my right mind, I’d say nothing and let him go – but… obviously I’m not, because I say softly, “Severus, stay,” just as he reaches for his discarded robes.
He sits there, gloriously naked, his robes in his right hand, staring at me in silence.
“Please,” I whisper.
“Budge over,” he says gruffly.
I scoot to the other edge of the bed, and as he lies down beside me, I wonder if I’ve completely gone around the bend.
Author’s Notes:
Well, after nearly an entire year (okay, technically longer than a year), I've finally something to share. Not sure if this is the end or not, but don't be surprised if another chapter does show up at a later date. Enjoy.
Hermione’s condition is mild form of Crohn’s Disease. While not fatal (at least it shouldn’t be fatal if properly treated), it is quite uncomfortable for anyone experiencing it. To read more about this condition, please go here: http://www.strengthforcaring.com/conditions/crohns-disease/overview/
http://www.mamashealth.com/stomach/crohn.asp
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