Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Sense and Insensibility Complete	By : Desert_Sea Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 33531 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters/things/places created by J.K. Rowling. I make no money from my fan-fiction.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
A/N:
Fox – Hey, I was glad to hear you sounding a bit more optimistic about things. My life is up and down but I’m coping so that’s something. ‘such a tender, loving and reverent manner, that it becomes an admission of deepest needs and feelings’ – I’m so glad that it came across, as that’s what I really wanted to convey xx ‘You make fictional characters into real people’ – thank you so much, writing is such a lived experience for me, especially at the moment. I really do appreciate your words. ‘I especially like 'this' Severus and Hermione of yours, they are deep and beautiful’ – yes, I feel a real fondness for them too, quite different to the sense I have of them in my other stories for some reason. ‘I have quite a lot of 'real' of my own right now’ – I totally get it. This isn’t for everyone and things are not necessarily going to be all plain sailing. Just visit when you are able. Stay well and look after yourself. xxooxx
Shellnet – So lovely to hear from you. I really appreciate your words and that you seem to enjoy my writing despite not being a huge fan of some of the characters. I hope you continue to find it worthwhile reading. :)
HG4Eva – Hey, you’re back over here in yellow land! I’m glad you liked their date, I know you have been a bit unhappy with our Severus in the past ;) x
LissaDream – I appreciate your kind thoughts, and sorry about the random PMs, I was clearly having a few difficulties ;) I have beefed this chapter up a bit so hopefully it satisfies. Work is so crazy at the moment, I’m really not used to writing this slowly but unfortunately I have so little time now, I just have to take what I can. Best, DSx
OO – ‘walking through the Great Hall like a sensorial badass’ – hahah! ‘and for some reason I want there to be lots of naked hugging’ – now that has to be a first! I love your emoticon btw, that has to be one of your best so far. ‘What are you hiding?!’ – aha, getting closer to the big reveal . . . ;) xx

Chapter 16 – Home and Away
They take the walkway by the river. The vista could never be described as picturesque but it is certainly mysterious—dark and enigmatic—not unlike the man whose arm she now takes as they walk, who seems to naturally position himself to protect her from potential threat, and who pretends to turn a blind eye as she tears a tiny hole in the steaming package held to his stomach and pilfers her first chip in what feels like a lifetime.
“These are so bloody . . . ohhhh.” Her intended compliment rapidly deteriorates into orgasmic groaning as the delicious contrast of crunch and creaminess makes her melt.
He chuckles softly as she quickly reaches for another.
“Severus, these are fantastic . . . seriously . . . the best,” she gushes thickly before suddenly catching herself. Swallowing, she looks up at his shadowed profile. He doesn’t seem to have noticed. “Do you mind . . . if I call you Severus?”
“Of course not.”
She smiles and pulls out another chip. “And I presume you won’t mind if I feed you?”
“That depends.”
“On what?” She dangles the chip in front of his lips.
“On whether you mind if I eat you.”
Suddenly he lunges forward and grabs both the chip and her fingers in his mouth.
She shrieks and snatches her hand away.
“And here I was thinking you were a man with the most impeccable manners,” she cries in mock indignation.
“Hardly.” He snorts. “But I do have extremely . . . refined . . . tastes.”
And the sibilance of that final word as it drifts through his teeth is enough to have her tingling with anticipation.
“Really?” she lingers over the word herself, sliding her fingers back into the hole to retrieve another chip before bringing it to his mouth. “And do you happen to have a particular . . . favourite?”
He stops. His boots crunch on the path as he turns to appraise her, the moon sparkling like a star in the deep pools of his eyes. “I believe I have found a new one.”
Her breath catches as he proceeds to engulf her thumb and index finger with his lips, his hot tongue scooping the potato from between them before he carefully draws back, allowing them to pop free. He swallows as her trembling hand falls to his chest.
“Please warn me before you do that again,” she murmurs softly.
“Why?”
“Because I need to at least appear to be able to resist you.”
He continues to penetrate her with that sultry gaze before finally releasing her with a lift of his chin.
“Perhaps you should come in and show me just how well you . . . resist.”
Turning around, she sees that they are across the road from a row of houses. She is grateful as her legs are already feeling weak from the promise of more Snape—in fact, she is now very hopeful of having a good deal too much Snape by the evening’s end.
He guides her to the last house in the row and, with a flick of his hand, unlocks the door and ushers her inside. They enter a tiny living room which instantly flares with warmth as he tosses flames into the lamps and a fire into the grate.
She sees books. Walls of them. Their worn spines speak of multitudinous readings, a thought sufficient to capture her even beyond the usual enticement, and it is all she can do to tear her eyes away to face him.
“Perhaps we should eat first?” He nods to the wrapped package in his hands.
“First?” She looks up at him innocently.
“Yes before . . . anything else.”
“I think perhaps we should do ‘anything else’ first.” She approaches him.
“Am I to presume that this is your most valiant attempt at ‘resistance’?” A sexy smirk hitches the corner of his lip.
“Yes . . . how do you like it?” She places both hands on his chest.
His eyelids sink a little as he focuses on her face, upturned and unconvincingly innocent, flushed in anticipation.
“I happen to believe that it’s perfect.” He tosses the package aside and grasps her fine chin in one hand. “And I happen to also believe that of you.”
Her eyes fall closed. It is impossible to quantify the magnitude of emotions that inundate her. She had all but given up on this—considered herself irreparably damaged, rotten, ghoulish . . . steeped in such brutal ugliness that she was completely beyond love . . . or even the remotest genuine attraction.
And then there’s the fact that the sentiment represents such a glaring contrast to the acerbic, hateful words that he had thrown at her years before.
She dearly hopes this revelation isn’t driven by pity, as the way the words swell inside her drives her to a place that she knows she is going to have difficulty returning from . . . unbroken.
“I’m still far from better,” she murmurs, shaking her head apologetically. “There are so many parts of me that are too sensitive to touch.”
“I’m confident that I can find a . . . work around.” His silken voice manages to slip through her misgivings, drawing a watery smile.
“I really hoped you’d say that.”
By way of response, he leads her by the hand upstairs, their clothes shedding in soft puddles as he deals swift, elegant incantations over them until they crawl naked onto the bed together.
He lies beside her, gazing intently into her eyes before taking her hand and placing his wrist inside it, allowing her to guide him. She immediately draws him close, curling his fingers around her small breast as she leans in to kiss him, skimming her own hand over the contours of his jaw as it rolls delicately beneath her fingertips with the rhythm of his soft, passionate lips.
She notices then that it matches the sensation at her breast—the strong fingers beneath her own dealing caresses of such gentle restraint over the throbbing bud of her nipple that it leaves her more breathless than if he’d been harsh or brutal.
But she has no such control. With a moan, she delves her fingers into his hair, fisting it in her desperation to pull him closer, forcing his mouth open as her tongue plunges deeply. She can barely contain herself . . . after so many years of having to. Her entire body cries out to be fucked . . . and fucked properly . . . not therapeutically.
But are they, in fact, one and the same?
Certainly, she had been floating on a giddy cloud of post-orgasmic bliss ever since he made her come the previous evening. And that hadn’t been gentle—she had come so hard that she could still feel the residual strain in her pussy . . . which might explain the fierce intensity of her current need.
In fact, all of their recent exchanges had felt cathartic—surprisingly soothing—healing, as though she was gradually being drawn back into her womanhood—her personhood—becoming part of the world again.
Despite that understanding, she still finds herself desperately wanting him to fuck her.
“Please, Severus,” she whimpers against his lips. “I need you . . .”
Mercifully, he requires no further explanation.
“Roll over.”
Obediently, she releases him and rolls away . . . waiting.
She feels his gradual approach, the seeping warmth of his body, spreading until it radiates along her entire length despite the absence of contact.
Then he does touch her—only barely—slithering one lean arm through the gap between her neck and the pillow, curling it around so that he touches her breast, but little else. Lifting her other hand, he props it on his hip, sliding his arm under her own to gently slip a digit between her labia. Sighing, she rolls her head back and finds that he is right there, and that she can kiss him as he slowly and deliciously works her most sensitive nerve bundles—nipple and clitoris—the tight triggers igniting a flood of pleasure that engulfs her whole body, dragging a ragged groan from her throat.
“You like that, do you?” The sexy purr against her lips makes her shiver with lust and her fingers claw into his buttocks until he flexes forward, the warmth of his cock brushing gently against her sensitized buttocks, making her gasp.
As his fingers firm between her lips, delving deeper, she naturally spreads her legs, allowing him to access her most intimate opening without hesitation—something she wouldn’t even allow herself only days before. He continues to roll and tug at her nipple until she moans and writhes in ecstasy, a merciful relief from the agony to which she has also become sadly accustomed.
Reaching back, she grasps the familiar weight of his cock.
“I want this beautiful thing inside me,” she murmurs as she gently squeezes him, simultaneously prodding her tongue into his mouth.
He draws back, the solemn lines of his face firming as he appraises her. “Are you certain?”
Whilst this will be his first time inside her fully erect, she is more than ready—she can both feel and hear the extent of her arousal as his fingers continue their languorous journey into and out of her.
“I might be ill but I’m not mad.” She regards him seriously, continuing to finger his member. “I don’t know a woman alive who would turn this down.”
He snorts gently. “And what would they consider of the person to whom it is attached?”
Her lips curl into a shy smile. “They would consider him quite the same . . . commanding, terrifying, awe-inspiring . . . and requiring a period of . . . adjustment.”
He chuckles this time, a ripple of warmth that nestles inside her, filling her, threatening to take permanent hold. And she doesn’t even need to interrogate the feeling . . . it’s obvious . . . she is falling for him. She knows it with absolute certainty. And just in case there was any part of her that wasn’t sure, he now dips his head, placing a chaste kiss upon her lips as he presses his firm head into her pussy from behind . . . and she swoons.
Eyes falling closed, her lips part, fluttering open a fraction further with each fresh sensation. But his incursion is so gradual, receding and encroaching in tiny increments that seem to follow each hitch of her breath, every flexion of her brow, that she suspects he is watching her intently, using her expressions as his guide.
Her fingers curl into his buttocks as he gradually eases his way inside, stretching her like nothing she’s ever taken before, filling her until she wonders just how much more he has to give. But then he halts, allowing her that ‘period of adjustment,’ just a few moments of complete fullness before he withdraws a fraction, the friction igniting her anew before thrusting home.
“Unnhhhh,” she moans, clutching at the hand on her breast that continues to stroke and squeeze, driving pulses of sensation into her core from above as well as below, until she feels deliciously, deliriously overwhelmed. She is suddenly thankful for the fact that she is lying down, having no doubt that she would have collapsed by now—been sucked into the depths of this swirling sensorial haze, as she had with the ministrations of his fingers and tongue the previous evening.
She now lies prone and willingly compliant, like an instrument—a cello and he the cellist—his cock the bow that weaves rhythmically in and out, drawing a symphony of breathy groans from the resonance chamber of her chest. And still he barely touches her, just those few contact points that she can tolerate . . . but each totally captivating and utterly exquisite.
When this had all begun—their hostile exchange in the Forbidden Forest that had ended in her pleading with him to be gentle—she had wondered if had been a grave mistake to allow him so close. But since then he had been gentle in every way—physically, psychologically, emotionally—a complete gentleman.
Even his fucking in this moment is gentlemanly—tender and considerate. But there is an undeniable element of restraint to his movements—a subdued potency that excites her, making her both hopeful and fearful that he will unleash himself on her. And his magnificent cock could never be described in such polite terms, it is too searingly substantial to be rendered benign, and that’s what makes this current understated performance so impressive. He could easily decimate her and yet he glides in and out with a languid grace, playing her so beautifully that she simply opens herself to him, inviting and accepting all that he has to give.
Lifting a hand, she cups his face, pulling him close before nuzzling against his cheek.
“Where do you need it?” His voice and jaw are tight—she senses that he is holding back . . . waiting . . . for her.
But she is determined for this not to be about her—her illness, her problem, her deficits. She wants him to fuck her because he wants it—just as much as she does.
“Please just do it . . . inside me.”
His thrusting slows. “Are you taking any—”
She twists her head around, kissing away his words. “And do it hard,” she growls against his lips.
He pauses, cheek resting against hers for a long moment before he seems to make up his mind. Lacing the fingers of one hand into hers, protectively curling his palm over her knuckles, he slides back to give himself greater leverage.
And then things escalate.
Beginning as a deepening of each stroke, his hips pull back, plunging home with increasing power until he is slamming into her cervix in a manner that both stuns and ignites her. The visceral grunts that burst from her lips with each deep contact are so raw that they turn her on even more, fuelling her own hips to thrust back to meet him.
His baritone eases out in a mounting breathy rhythm that matches the speed of his thrusts, and she tightens her grip on his hand, letting him know that she is still with him despite the tremulous mewling that has now commandeered her voice box.
His cock ploughs into her, reaming her pussy like it hasn’t been plundered in years . . . or ever for that matter—a blazing barrel of pleasure that is so complete it doesn’t even warn of her impending orgasm until the moment is upon her, eclipsing anything she has ever known.
She cries out, her body quaking uncontrollably as it is gripped by the magnitude of her release. Her violent contractions shudder around his solid shaft as it continues to drive into her, the exquisite stimulation forcing an eruption of juice from her convulsing passages, and a stream of hot tears from her eyes.
The tears continue as she feels him gather behind her before his warm breath buffets her shoulder, her name upon it as he comes. The massive girth of his cock and the sensitivity of her tunnel means she can feel every delicious surge of him inside her. Hips bucking forward with each release, she senses him lathering her deepest recesses with his seed and instantly feels the magic of it working on her.
They lay together for a few blissful moments, breathing as one. But as he tenses, ready to withdraw, she instantly releases his hand, digging her fingers into the back of his thigh to hold him there.
“Stay,” she whispers. “Just . . . please . . . stay.”
- 15
- 16
- 17
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Sense and Insensibility *Complete*

Sense and Insensibility Complete