Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Book One - Master Mine: A Lesson in Submission	By : Lissa & snowblind12 Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 58478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with JK Rowling or The Harry Potter franchise in anyway. I make no money off my stories.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Chapter Ten
Beta: Theo121
“Danny, I think something in my shoulder tore.” Hermione hiccupped through her discomfort and tears. Daniel looked at her in horror for a moment before snatching up the rope and sliding his hands down its length. He looked like he was measuring something in his head. After a moment he looked up at her, shame and guilt in his eyes.
“You made a mistake?” she guessed. It was not an accusation, she could see on his face he was horrified. It hadn’t been done on purpose.
He looked like he was about to say something, when the door was thrown open firmly. Out of her peripheral vision, Danny sprung to his feet, causing Hermione to jump. A jolt of sharp pain shot down her arm, making her fingers tingle when she moved. She whimpered. Severus Snape stood in the doorway, his eyes wild. The look changed into one of fury when Hermione promptly burst into relieved tears upon seeing him.
“What happened?” he demanded.
“It’s okay, Severus,” she answered softly, sniffling as her tears subsided. “It was an accident, I’ll be all right.” “Please tell me what happened.” Even though his face and tone stayed hard, his eyes had softened. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. Vaguely, she heard the men talking, but she couldn’t concentrate on anything they were saying. Snape had come for her. He had known she was there, had known she was in trouble, and he had come. Her whole body tingled with warmth.
It surprised her when he quickly strode over to her and pulled her into his arms. She cradled her injured arm, but hardly even noticed the pain. All she could feel was his hard body against hers as he held her protectively close. She felt her clothing being pushed at her, and the mask. She slipped it on distractedly, still gazing at Snape, transfixed.
Hermione was able to divert her attention long enough to assure Danny she knew it had been an accident before slinging her right arm around Snape’s neck and pressing her face into his shoulder. His arms tightened around her, and she sighed as she melted into him. Pure bliss.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he whispered against her temple. She just about groaned with the combined endearment and the feel of his lips so close to her skin.
“I’m all right,” she breathed, absentmindedly pressing a gentle kiss to his shirt, over his collar bone. “Now that you’re here, I’m all right.”
She missed the surprised breath he pulled in through his nose at her tender touch. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, tightening his hold on her. Then he turned his attention back to Danny and she allowed herself to drift.
“Where are you hurt?” Snape asked softly, setting her gently on the couch in his private quarters . Sweetly, he wrapped her in a blanket. Hermione gave him a smile, completely entranced with his concern and compassion. His sudden appearance seemed to have knocked all anxiety and frustration out of her body. It left her feeling as though she had taken a tranquility draught.
“My left shoulder,” she said calmly, watching his face carefully. Gods, she found him attractive. Once again, she knew his face was not a beautiful face – nothing like Lucius or Draco, who were truly beautiful men – but it was strong, hard, regal. Hermione sighed, she wanted to touch him, but was with it enough to know that would probably not be welcomed. “I think I felt something tear.”
Wandlessly, Snape held his hand out and a book came soaring into it with a thud. It was a medical manual. He didn’t speak with her, and Hermione was feeling too at peace to attempt conversation with him; she simply laid back into the couch cushions and closed her eyes. Snape paged through the book, seemingly unaffected by her presence. After a few moments, he closed it quietly and moved his glorious hands to her skin. She couldn’t suppress a small sound of pleasure even as his touch caused a slight twinge of discomfort. He caught her eye briefly and her tummy flipped at the undiluted lust she found in his dark gaze. She was suddenly extremely aware of how naked she was. The only thing she had on under the thin throw was her thong.
His face remained impervious to her, and she purposely moved her gaze away from his, focusing on the piled carpeting under her feet. Snape muttered a diagnostic incantation. “Just a bad strain,” he murmured, his breath caressing her and causing a few loose strands of hair to stir against her neck. She shivered as he drew a deep breath.
Hermione continued to study the carpet as she felt Snape slide his wand over her shoulder, rumbling the healing charm. There was a twinge of pain, followed by an intense heat. Just as the warmth started to become uncomfortable, it dissipated, leaving a pleasant tingling sensation. She let out a low breath of relief and rolled her shoulder cautiously, testing out the muscles.
“Ooh,” she breathed. “That’s good.” She looked up, her face lighting up with a stunning smile. Snape felt his breath catch. Merlin, she was beautiful.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Without hesitating, she reached up and cupped his face with the hand of her newly healed arm. She smoothed the pad of her thumb over his cheek.
Snape couldn’t help his reaction, he leaned into the tender touch with a languid sigh of contentment. People didn’t often give Severus Snape affection. He lifted his hand and encircled her wrist gently before pressing a chaste kiss to her palm. “You’re most welcome, Miss Granger.”
She had let out a little puff of air when he kissed her and instinctively leaned in towards him, eyes fixed on his mouth. Hermione glanced up at him, noting his hesitation. The air around them was charged with a crackling, electric current. It was just a brief moment, a slight pause, and then they moved at the same time. Their lips touched tentatively at first, and they drew simultaneous breaths in through their noses as an intense shift in the atmosphere occurred.
Hermione kept her mouth soft, lips slightly parted as he moved his surprisingly smooth and gentle lips over hers. Her belly tightened with delicious need and she tentatively slipped her arms around his neck, inadvertently causing the blanket to pool at her waist. It seemed that would be the catalyst for them, in this moment in time. Before either could register what was happening, he had deepened the kiss with a rasping growl that made Hermione mewl with delight high in her throat. She pulled herself closer to him. Large, warm, and calloused hands dragged themselves up her torso, splaying strongly around her ribcage as his thumbs found both of her nipples at the same time. She ripped her mouth away from Snape’s with a deep gasp, her head falling back. Taking the opportunity presented, Snape dragged his mouth down her throat and chest, questing to one perfect, waiting breast. He wasted no time sucking the hardened flesh into his hot, velvety mouth. Hermione sobbed with the sensation, the fire, the energy. The neglected breast garnered his palm’s attention, the friction delicious against the pointed nub of pleasure. His touch was unlike any other, and she lost complete control of her faculties.
She pulled her head forward, looking down at his dark hair bent to her breasts. It was so fucking hot, and GODS she wanted him. She couldn’t help but tell him. “Please,” she begged softly, scoring her nails on the back of his neck. “Please, sir, I want you!”
Snape didn’t answer her, and even though his mind whirled its warnings back at him, he could not argue with her. “Undress me.” His voice was gravelly and strained as he released her breasts. “Quickly, witch!”
Hermione had stilled at his command, half in shock, before she bolted into action. Fingers fumbling, she quickly undid the row of buttons on his black dress shirt. She actually swore aloud upon see his torso – defined, hard, gorgeous. She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, fingers caressing the outline of his hardened deltoids before running down and sinking into the dark hair that covered his chest, following the line that trailed from his sternum into the center crease of his distinct six-pack. Her hand strayed momentarily to caress a couple of scars that were scattered over his abdomen. She looked up into his eyes, her desire flaring hot. “You are bloody beautiful,” she breathed.
Her gentle caresses were inflaming his desire to a boiling point. Her words were completely unhinging. In order to hide his desire, he went with indifferent roughness. “Stop teasing, Doll,” he hissed. Her eyes flew to his upon the use of such a gruff tone; her pseudonym coming from him was also startling. Her eyes softened when she realized what he was doing. It seemed he was in just as deep as she was.
“Yes, sir.” Eager to please, she answered him quickly and dropped her hands to his belt. They both groaned when her touch grazed his obviously needy erection. Hermione was such a bundle of nerves and longing that she struggled with the clasp to the point Snape batted her hands away after a moment of fumbling. He undid the buckle with practiced ease, and didn’t stop there. Standing from the couch, he jerked his trousers down and kicked them off along with his shoes before reaching down to peel off his socks. This left him only in his boxers as he turned back to the petite young woman watching him with obvious hunger. Her gaze trailed down his body, taking in a narrowed waist – beautifully defined, a heavily jutting erection covered with black silk boxers, and thick, powerful legs. When she met his eyes again, he almost groaned aloud with her visceral reaction to his nakedness.
Reaching down to her, he jerked her up from the couch by her right elbow. The blanket was left behind. Making a split-second decision, he scooped her up and over his shoulder, his hand coming down to crack on her backside.
Hermione squawked her discomfort (she had just taken a caning, but he had not noticed those lines). She couldn’t deny that his show of brute strength and Dominance caused a deluge in her already soaked knickers. He strode across the room, bypassing the tiny kitchen and dining room to one of two doors. Throwing it open, it only took a few more strides before he unceremoniously tossed her onto the bed and divested himself of his shorts. She frantically hooked her thumbs into her knickers and rolled them down, arching her back and then raising her legs to pull them off. Before she had a chance to toss them away, he was on her. His hands glided up her silky-smooth legs, mouth on her stomach.
“Oh, fuck,” she whined out. Her arms reached up to grasp the pillow behind her head with two tight fists. He evaded her breasts, trailing his tongue up the valley between to her neck. Hermione felt his sharp teeth sink into her tender flesh at the same time she registered his heavy length laying against her groin. “Now, now, now,” she begged. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she should have been embarrassed by her demanding display of wantonness. However, her need was so great, she couldn’t bring herself to care.
Snape complied without a second thought. He captured her mouth again, tongue diving deep as he guided his cock into her sopping pussy. He pushed in slowly and Hermione’s mouth went slack under his. Surprised pants punctured the powerful silence between them. It wasn’t until he had started pressing into her that she realized she hadn’t actually gotten a very good look at his cock.
It was immediately apparent that Snape was what she would describe as huge. The stretch was uncomfortable. When she thought there was no way she could feel fuller, he slipped in just a bit further. Her eyes were wide and locked to his face which looked pained with his pleasure. Finally, he was completely encompassed in her wet heat and let out a long, low breath. He searched her eyes, a bit surprised to find them wet.
“You’re…all right?” Their frantic passion of only moments before seemed to have stilled with the intensity of their joining. He had never felt so complete in his life.
“Oh, yes,” she mouthed. “Oh, Gods. You feel amazing.” It was taking a lot of effort for Hermione not to start sobbing with tears of joy. Had anything in her life ever felt so perfectly right? So wonderfully good? Slowly, Snape lowered his mouth to hers in a gentle, sweet kiss.
She opened for him like a flower, her tongue questing tentatively. He met hers with more confidence, sliding a hand under her head to tangle his fingers in her curls. Holding her head still for his plundering kisses, he slightly retracted his hips before pushing himself forward. Her head jerked back away from his and she found herself unable to breathe. His movement had stolen every action of her body – her breath, her mind, all her senses. The only thing she could focus on was where their bodies were joined and the rightness of its sensation. He moved again, and she whimpered as the heat that had encapsulated her entire being flamed into a white-hot pinpoint of perfect perception in her womb.
“Wrap your legs around my waist, Hermione,” he directed in a heavily strained voice. She complied immediately, also bringing her arms up around his shoulders and digging her nails in. The rumbling in his chest reflected her own feelings. This was…so incredible. “Move with me, love.” He pulled back and she almost wept with the loss. Hermione rolled her hips into him as he thrust into her and they both growled their approval. Then there was no more hesitation. He filled her again, and again. At some point he wrapped one arm under her back while the other stayed entangled in her hair. They joined their mouths again in deep, slow, penetrating kisses that matched the rhythm of their lower bodies.
It took little time – too little time – for Hermione to realize she was going to climax fabulously from vaginal penetration alone.
In the missionary position.
With no foreplay.
Her body sang with the knowledge there was a man in this world who fit her so perfectly, who made her feel so incredibly sexy and wanted and desired. “I’m going to come,” she gasped against his mouth as their bodies continued to move lazily together, reaching, seeking that utter blissfulness.
“Yes,” he hissed in return, kissing her again. Their tongues tangled in a tantalizing tango. His movements came just a bit quicker and he snapped his hips slightly at the end of each thrust. She hummed into his mouth, meeting his movements in flawless synchrony. “Come for me, Hermione.”
They were wrapped so tightly together that the movements were not brutal, could not be brutal. Every inch of their skin was molded to the other. For the first time in her life, Hermione felt like she truly understood the definition of love making. Her orgasm unfurled slowly and deeply before turning into such a powerful force she had to rip her mouth away from his. “Oh, God. Fuck! Yes, oh, yes! Yes! Yes!” she cried out passionately, her hips jerking into his as her nails dragged heavily down his well-defined, muscular back. “Oh, Gods, Severus…” She exhaled as he continued to move into her at a languid, fluid pace. Her eyes rolled back as a vibrating moan cut off her words.
Snape couldn’t take his eyes off the woman writhing with her pleasure beneath him. Her body bowed and she threw her head back, climaxing spectacularly with such unbridled passion it was awe inspiring. Hermione’s orgasm was so incredibly arousing that it had triggered his own release the moment she spoke his name. Never overly vocal during sex, Snape only let out a low, visceral snarl of ecstasy as her milking muscles ripped his seed from deep in his groin, bollocks clenching tight.
As they came back down from their mutual high, Hermione’s hands trailed up his back to tangle in the short locks on the back of his head. Insistently, she pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him long, hard, and deep. He felt himself floating away, melting into her, giving over to her. It was something he had never been able to do with any other woman in his life. The tightening in his chest was as welcomed as it was unwelcomed. Not removing the length of his body from hers, he moved just enough that he could clasp her head in both of his hands, his thumbs brushing her cheeks and smoothing the dampness from beneath her eyes.
Their gazes met and held, and he couldn’t help but return her soft smile. He leaned in to kiss her again, and reveled in the fluttering of her eyelashes before they fanned over her cheeks in complete acceptance of his lips to hers. They were still joined intimately, and her legs squeezed his hips as her arms wrapped even more tightly around his shoulders, pulling him to her even though there was no way they could get any closer.
Snape felt as though he could kiss her forever and never grow tired of it. She tasted like cinnamon and honey; her lips were like two moist pillows of perfection. Her little sighs and mewls made his stomach muscles clench and he was not going soft. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t needed at least a fifteen-minute refractory period. Most of the time it was much longer than that. He hadn’t been a young man for many years, but he wasn’t stupid enough not to take advantage of the situation.
Slowly, he pulled himself out of her, delighting in her whimper of protest even though he never removed his mouth from hers. He couldn’t seem to unglue himself from her drugging kisses. He slid along her body, settling on his side. Hermione rolled into him, trailing her fingertips up his chest, taking a detour to tease a nipple, making him jump slightly.
Very reluctantly, she pulled back, unjoining their lips. “That was…” She trailed off, seemingly unable to find words. Snape understood completely. He had other ideas, though, besides talking about the incredible shag they had just shared. Mainly, he wanted to do it again.
“Roll on your side, sweetheart.” His voice was as low and silky as ever, only it was undercut with a raspy edge that caused her pussy to leap right back to attention. Was he ready to go again? Already? She glanced down, and her eyes widened perceptibly. Bloody fuck! Apparently, he was!
Snape almost laughed aloud at the expression on her face, but didn’t have time as she immediately scrambled into the position that had been asked of her.
He snaked one arm under her, pulling her back into his chest and then hiked her top leg over his hip. Slowly, he pushed himself back into her tight little cunt. It was just as exquisite as the first time, maybe even more so now that he’d had a taste. Using the arm under her to cup a breast and roll a nipple, his other hand spread flat across her taut abdomen and slid down, seeking her clit. It was hard and distended and she gasped lusciously when he used the pads of his first two fingers to swirl around its sensitive girth.
She angled her neck, so the back of her head rested on his shoulder, and her tongue and teeth came out to trail a line of fiendfyre down his jaw to the point of his chin. “You are so good, Severus Snape. So good. Fuck!” she groaned. Her words just speared him on. Where their first coupling had been frantic and turned slow and sensual; the second started slow and was quickly turning frantic. He pulled and twisted her nipples, rotating between the two, while his fingers plied the little bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. His hips thrust harder, and faster and she let out a little gasp of pleasure with each forward motion.
She was surprised when he moved to his back, rolling her with him after only a few minutes on their sides. She cried out as he sunk deeper into her with the reverse cowgirl position. Quickly, she reached back and planted both hands on his chest as they pressed their feet into the mattress, her thighs on the outside of his.
He set a grueling pace, whipping his hips into hers. His enormous cock was slamming into her g-spot so hard that she felt delirious with the pleasure, her eyes rolling back into her head. He sat up behind her and pulled her back against his chest, snaking one arm around to continue the playful torture of her clit.
Hermione’s next orgasm was barreling down on her. The only sounds in the room were their mingled, heavy breathing and her occasional cry or groan. “Ask permission to come, Miss Granger!” he demanded, and her head fell back limply. Oh, what he fucking did to her mind! Her body was on fire.
“May I come, Master Snape?” she exclaimed heatedly. “I’m so close, sir!”
He growled. “Beg.” She almost came right then and had to squeeze her inner muscles to prevent herself from cresting that final hill.
“Oh, gods! Please, please, please, may I come sir!” Why was this so fucking hot? Begging for her pleasure? She had thought she was just starting to get there. Now she was there. She needed it, needed him. “Oh, please!”
“Come, Miss Granger.” The demand in his deep, commanding, tightly controlled baritone hurled her off the cliff of her passion and she came with a cry as he grasped her hips with a bruising fierceness and slammed himself into her.
“Severus!” The exclamation was a combination of a sob and hysterics. “Fuck, fuck, unnnggghhhhh!!!!” She jerked erratically, her vaginal walls fluttering madly as they gripped him like a vice. He followed quickly with his own growl of release, continuing to piston into her roughly. When their movements stilled, she found she could no longer support herself, and fell limply back into him.
Snape wrapped both his arms tightly around Hermione, pulling her snugly into him. They turned their heads at the same time, lips and tongues seeking out the other.
They lay that way, occasionally kissing, until he slipped out of her some time later. Both sighed a little with the loss. Hermione was sated, and completely and utterly knackered. She must have dozed, because the next thing she knew, she was being rolled to the side. As out of it as she was, she realized she probably needed to get going. She started to pull away only to have a muscular arm pull her firmly back into him.
“Stay,” Snape grumbled, nuzzling his nose into her curls.
She relaxed instantly. Nothing would please her more. Blissfulness permeated every pore of her being. She snuggled back into him, vaguely aware of a blanket being magicked over them both.
Snape woke to a soft voice swearing as Hermione searched for her beeping wand. He stifled a chuckle as warmth flooded his body. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so completely satisfied, nor could he remember the last time he had slept so well.
As all things, though, the magic was coming to an end. He peeked open an eye, seeing her dark silhouette through the door and a slight panic overcame him. She was leaving; she probably needed to get home to get ready for work. Would she come back tonight? Should he ask if he could take her out to lunch? He closed his eyes quickly and concentrated on keeping his breathing deep and even when he realized she was coming back into the bedroom.
“Severus?” she asked in a quiet voice. When he didn’t answer her, he sensed her making her way to the bed. “I have to go to work,” she breathed. Her voice was so low he had to strain to hear her. “This was … incredible.” She was quiet again, and he felt her fingers brushing a lock of hair out of his face. This was followed by smooth, cool lips on his forehead, nose, and then, finally pressing gently to his lips. It took every ounce of control not to grip her by her arms and pull her back into the bed with him. As it was, his cock stirred maddeningly. “I’ll come back tonight. Goodbye.”
He heard his door click softly. His confusion rose tenfold when a wave of melancholy engulfed him. Now what?
Hermione closed the door to Snape’s quarters gently, worried the short but sweet note she had left on his kitchen table would not be taken well. She should have woken him, kissed him good morning, and asked him to lunch. She paused only a few steps down the hall and glanced over her shoulder. Maybe she should go back. Uncertainty gripped her. Get a grip, Hermione. This is Severus Snape. He’s complicated, he’ll probably appreciate the time you’re giving him today to sort things out. There’s absolutely no way that what happened last night doesn’t have him as riled up as you are. It was just … too … oh, bloody amazing. Merlin! She quickly made her way to the Apparation point outside of the club in the wintery air, pulling her cloak more tightly around her slight frame. She was home and done with her morning ablutions before she could wrap her mind around what had all transpired the night before. Shaking her head, she firmly pushed Snape out of her mind, so she could get on with her work day.
A work day that turned out to be the one that wouldn’t end. She was going to go insane. The morning had been easy because it had been packed with meetings and a short court case. Her afternoon, however, had been relatively free for her to do research and casework, and she felt like she was going to rip her hair out. Would it be stupid of her to go to the club early? She knew they were open as of five o’clock. It’s four-thirty now. Finish this file and go. She was worried about coming off needy or desperate, but… Fuck it! Go!
She tossed the useless file down and locked up her office over Flourish and Blotts. Quickly running across the street to the little sandwich shop she frequented for lunch, she had a light dinner and was grateful to see it was about a quarter after five once she had finished. Using the restroom at the café, she changed her clothing and used her wand to clean her teeth. (Which was not something she particularly liked to do, but it was helpful in a pinch.) With one last look in the mirror, she headed to The Dungeon.
Snape was sitting in his office, trying to distract himself from thinking about the night before when there was a soft knock at his door.
Bloody hell, who’s bothering me now?
His tone was impatient, his word was abrupt. “Enter.” He did not look up as he heard the door open, instead opting to stare at his ledger. This made it clear, in his typical passive-aggressive fashion, that whoever was at the door was being a burden.
“Uh, Severus? Can we talk?”
Snape’s breathing stilled in an instant. She was here, now. How had he missed her coming into the club? His face a mask of indifference, he turned and looked at her…and swallowed. Hard. Breathe, he reminded himself.
“Miss Granger, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He tried to keep his focus on her caramel eyes and not on the low cut, thin strapped, silk dress she was wearing. A dress that caressed her breasts, hips, and waist. A dress that stopped at mid-thigh, leaving bare silky legs that led to a pair of spiked heels.
Hermione sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. “I …I wanted, well – was hoping, to talk to you. About last night?”
Fuck, I’m not ready for this! “Last night? What about it? I trust your shoulder is feeling better?” It was as though he was discussing the weather - as though last night held little interest to him.
Hermione’s eyes flashed with a glimmer of irritation, even as she felt the tell-tale prickle of tears in her nose. So, this is how he wants to play it? Like it meant nothing? Bugger it all to hell. You’re here, ask him anyway! “My shoulder is fine, thank you, sir.” Her tone was now as indifferent as his. “I came because, I want…”
“Yes?” he inquired impatiently as she trailed off.
She stood up taller and just as she was about to speak, she changed her mind. Letting out a breath, she simply watched him for a moment instead. She shook her head, her voice resigned. “I don’t want to play your games, Severus. Last night...last night. It meant something, didn’t it? You felt it too, right?”
His face remained impassive. She stared at him for an age, waiting for a response. When none came, and his face remained the same impenetrable mask, she wanted to scream or sob. Neither was an exciting option. Her hands were at her sides, grasping the hem of her short skirt, trying to dispel some of her inner boiling frustration. Fuck this! She was about to simply turn around and leave, but something stopped her. The previous evening had not only been the best sex of her life, but there had been an emotional – and fucking hell, spiritual – connection as well. The air had been electric, the ground had practically shaken! It was worth fighting for, even if it meant exposing some vulnerability on her part. She went for all out honesty. “You know what? I came here…I came here because I felt something last night. I felt something…incredible… A connection I’ve never felt before. And I know you felt it, too! Please!” She broke herself off, raising the back of her hand to press against her mouth, steeling herself. Severus’ face remained a stone mask, but his heart was racing. She felt it too! His mind was spinning, searching for the right response. Now is the time! Ask her to dinner!
“I thought…I hoped that that maybe you would agree to train me now.” Hermione’s words were soft, hesitant.
There it was. His blood ran cold as if she had splashed ice water on him. I hoped that maybe you would agree to train me now. It was all she wanted from him! She wanted Snape, the Dominant. Not Severus, the man. His disappointment was only outdone by his anger. Anger at himself for believing, if only for a second, that his world was about to change. Anger at her for dashing those hopes instantly. Anger at her for wanting no more from him than his commanding voice and Dominant hand.
His words were condescending. “Miss Granger, you used to listen. You used to retain what you had been told. Clearly, you no longer have the capacity to listen and learn.”
Snape stood up, now looking down on her, “I have told you. I. Do. Not. Train. Submissives!” She flinched with each punctuation of his staccatoed voice. The hurt on her face almost made him change his tune in the blink of an eye.
Hermione’s heart was pounding, her frustration and anger swirled within. There was no way he hadn’t felt what she felt, and she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to call him out on it. Her eyes narrowed, her voice was icy and trembling. “You know what, Severus Snape? You’re a coward. You can’t even acknowledge something so obvious, so…earth-shattering! You’re too scared to open yourself – ”
Her words were cut off when he took two steps towards her. Grabbing her under the arms, he pushed her back into the wall. His face was livid, his voice growling. “Coward? Coward, you say?”
Hermione gasped as her back hit the hard, stone surface, her eyes were wide with shock. His tone was lethal, his mouth close to hers, his onyx eyes piercing. Snape’s voice was dead calm, its timbre terrifying, yet horribly arousing at the same time. “You seem to have forgotten to whom you are speaking, Miss Granger.”
His face remained near, his mouth tantalizingly close to her ear. His breath against her skin sent shivers cascading down her spine. Hermione gulped and swallowed, her chest heaving. Oh Merlin! His voice was hypnotic, despite its intent. “You think I’m too cowardly to…” His hands were planted against the wall on either side of her. He pulled his face back from hers, his eyes assessing her as they lazily moved up and down her form. His expression showed that he found her lacking. “Too cowardly to train you, Miss Granger? Is that really what you think?”
He pushed back from the wall, watching her reaction. He swallowed, and fought to maintain his control as he noticed the darkening of her pupils, the flushing of her delicious skin, the light sheen of sweat forming on her brow. He crossed his arms and looked down at her with his most commanding and Domineering glare.
He was unable to deny the stroke to his ego as she responded exactly as he knew she would. “I choose not to invest my time with such tedious tasks because they bore me, Miss Granger.” Snape gestured to the screens on the wall. “You see all those witches out there? More than half are experienced submissives. Submissives who already know how to please. Why would I waste my time training a witch to become what I already have at my disposal?”
Hermione looked at the monitors, her face falling. The expression was enough to make Snape regret what he had just said, but then he saw her face tinge an angry pink. When he looked to the screens, he knew why. Her jealousy thrilled him. Hermione glared at the security screens. Britt – beautiful, perfect Britt. Britt, who could take a proper public caning, had entered the club. Hermione watched with jealous rage as Snape caught the redhead’s image, a small smile on his face as he looked back at Hermione with a cocked eyebrow. He had made his point, almost too perfectly.
The competitive piece of her psyche absolutely refused to let him get away with this. She knew he was denying the truth, whether he would admit it or not. She pushed from the wall, her arms crossed in front of her. There was a defiant glare in her eyes as she looked up at him. “I could be what you want me to be, sir. You told me before that I pleased you. So, who’s to say I need training to please you again?” What are you doing, Hermione? He’ll eat you alive!
Snape, however, only watched her in surprise, his expression continuing to give nothing away. He had expected her to cower, to run away – perhaps even a show of histrionics. He had not expected her to keep pushing, to stand up to him. It was…intriguing…he had to admit. Perhaps it was time to teach this young witch a lesson. After a second’s deliberation, he smirked at her. “Follow me, Miss Granger.”
Hermione’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief at his response. Oh Lord. What have I done? He’s probably marching you to the front door and revoking your privileges!
That wasn’t what he was doing, though. He instead strode down the hall and entered the main floor, proceeding towards the steps that led down to the private rooms. Her heart was fluttering with anticipation as she slipped her mask on and had to practically jog to keep up with the pace of his long strides.
Suddenly, there was an awareness in the back of her mind. She recognized it as the part of herself that was leading her into what she knew would be trouble. That competitive, sometimes reckless side of her personality. (Dare she say the Gryffindor part of her?) It was stroked and glowing, and intuition told her to look up. She listened to it, and caught the deadly and jealous stare of the beautiful and perfect Britt. Stunning and flawless Britt – who was not the one about to scene with Severus Snape. Lovely, but suddenly not so perfect Britt. The scowl on the redhead’s face was most unattractive. It was petty and completely beneath her, but Hermione simply couldn’t contain the slight cock of her eyebrow and the gloating smirk she gave the other woman as she passed her.
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Book One - Master Mine: A Lesson in Submission