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The Wage of Sin	By : Catsqueen Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 6515 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: They�re still JKR�s. Thanks for the encouraging words, reviewers, and here beginneth the smut.

DISCOVERY
I should be panicked, not stifling a lustful moan. There�s the toe again, probing higher. The game�s up and so is my air.

Break the surface on a groan, a demented mermaid, sputtering and throwing suds from one end of the room to the other. Eyes are teary, but still able rocerocess the effect of my dramatic appearance.

Is that a rubber ducky, Professor, or are you simply pleased to see me?

�What the fuck are you doing in my bath, Granger!�

A roar, but I find his reaction restrained. Expected him to hex first, ask later.

Leaning over the s ris rim, spewing�s most unladylike. Yes, fair question, Sir. Give me a week or two, I might find a plausible answer.

"I - oh, I�m terribly sorry, is this your bath? I�ll go then, do enjoy��

I�m babbling. And what�s worse, not moving.

Whoops.

Having looked at the floor tiles, the door (longingly) and the peeling paint on the ceiling, I�m forced to face the naked wizard barely six feet away. Must say, candlelight suits him; the dances of flame and shadow soften the harsh angles of his face, while nicely accentuating the chest. Though he�s moving down to hide himself under the bubbles, I now know that�s quite a six-pack of an abdomen for his years.

Nipples look tasty. Dark and dusky. Just a nibble, Sir?

�Stay exactly where you are, young lady.�

Damn, that voice is a turn-on! Sends tingles to my toes when he comes over all commanding. Follow his own lead and sink down. Bit late for elegance; maiden modesty, that�s the card.

Pity the eyes on stalks, ogling his torso, give the impression of sex-starved whore.

Spoilsport! He�s going down deeper, hiding his - oh.

Just realised precisely what�s on his eye line.

Me.

Bosoms poking through the foam. Breast-man, are you, Professor? Yes, lean forward, take a good look.

Mine aren�t the only eyes bulging. His mouth�s hanging open.

Never thought I�d see the Snape version of the stunned cod.

Usually find it a passion-killer; seen it from Ron often enough. Blank Snape, however, surprisingly sexy.

Ah, well. Not nude, but may as well be. Burgundy silk.

Wet silk. And no bra.

Must be the cold air, puckering my nipples; below the waterline, I�m roasted. Couldn�t possibly be my hormones doing the macarena.

Getting an eyeful, Snape? Maybe if I lean in�.

Now his Adam�s apple is making a bid for freedom. Flip back the hopeless hair, rub against the gown, oh my, that felt good! Keep staring, you sexy beast, I want you so befuddled with lust you�ll forget those meaningless questions. Yes, like the one you yelped on instinct when I rose like a lunatic water-nymph from the deep.

Hey, maybe I�ve manufactured myself a chance. I�ve been having dirty dreams about him for, how long? Yes, pucker up, tilt the head, pout like Parvati taught you. Was that a whimper?

Yes, I know it was, but who did it come from? See, I just did a silly thing.

Pressed my legs together hard.

Bad move. Secret place throbs in response, and that squeak was definitely mine. Snape�s eyebrow - wish I knew how he does that - arcs north.

Must be an additional class in the Slytherin common room. How many hours of practice before the mirror goes to the making of an Eyebrow Master?

�Uncomfortable, Miss Granger?� Now I�m for it, the Voice has dropped to Bone-Melt. If he used it like that in class, not a witch over fourteen would get through his lees wes without fainting.

�Um - no, Sir?� I�m going up the scale on each syllable.

He�s shifting around, making the bubbles slither silken over wet skin. I�m not the only one getting randy.

Advice for Ron: don�t use a potion, secrete yourself in her tub. Nothing more arousing than being wet through in a steamy, scented bathroom.

Of course, if it were Ron with me, I�d be running for the gates screaming blue murder. But it�s not Ron.

It�seruserus Snape, Potions Master, war hero, and general all-purpose sarky git. It�s my lucky day!

My lips are Sahara-dry. Lick them.

Aaah, you liked that, Severus, my lad? He�s pushing upward, water running in flame-burnished rivulets from that Herculean chest, muscles bunching as he nears me. Such contrasts: milky flesh and raven hairs; flexing musculature and soft, warm flesh.

�Miss Granger.� In danger of coming from the sound of my name. Say it again, Sir, and see me lose it on my own.

�What are you doing here?�

Trembling, actually, with long-sublimated hunger, not cold or dread. Decision to give him an eyeful�s resulting in acute temperature loss in upper regions, for which the lower is attempting to compensate. Clench my buttocks, feel the slither of drenched thong between wet folds. Do it again, Hermione, that felt nice!

He�s watching me through narrowed eyes; does he know what I just did? They�re not obsidian, those eyes; more gleaming onyx, polished jet. �Either get out and cast a drying charm, Miss Granger, or settle back. You would not wish to take pneumonia away as a graduation present.

Have I just been propositioned?

Yippee!

Ah. Fingers are like prunes, so clumsy I�ve got no chance of unzipping this gown. Wand?

Snclicclicks his tongue. �Stand up and turn around.�

When he speaks like that, obedience is instinctive, though turning away when he�s getting up is the hardest thing I�ve had to do in my life. He�s Neptune made flesh, a true water-god. The giant statue of Florence has nothing on him in the more interesting anatomical areas.

He�s rearing. There�s a secret you won�t find in Hogwarts: A History! The room�s started to tilt.

His fingertips trace the z len length before he yanks it down. Can�t stop a gasp . Now his hands are curled over my shoulders; he�s easing the tiny straps down.

�Thank you.�

Peel it off , take your time. I hear his breathing hitch as he moves away, job done. You lie back and enjoy, Gorgeous, I�ll be right with you.

Carefully turning, I lock my gaze on his. There�s no doubting his arousal. He can�t be unaware of mine.

It�s not possible to remove a sodden undergarment gracefully when balanced precariously on wet marble. Snape�s not fussing about the delay, but still, it�s embarrassing to find I can�t even manage a seduction properly with the ideal conditions all laid on by the seductee.

Find Severus (am I OK to use first names? Can�t exactly screech Professor! at the great moment, can I?) smirking at my discomfort. Apparently the sight of Hermione�s wiggling arse is attractive to the male of the Magical species.

Wonder if he realises it�s my own essence rather than his bathwater that�s making the removal of this ridiculous thong (Ginevra Weasley, you have a lot to answer for!) so bloody awkward? It�s off and hurled onto the floor. Now I can stretch and let him appraise exactly what he�s getting for Graduation.

This is bliss. I�m towering over a naked Snape, and he�s goggling. Is it the proud thrust of my breasts, or the thatch of dark hair lower down he finds so enthralling? I kneel between his thighs and give my best shot at a Slytherin smile. �Much better. Thank you.�

�My pleasure.� He�s raspy; his eyes are blazing. Why didn�t I try this trick before?

Probably because until tonight, he�d not have reacted.

I take it back. His body might have. Teacher perhaps, but still a man.

His hands come up, water spurting between the splayed fingers, to cup my breasts, stroking, kneading, tweaking eager nipples. Mmmm, never knew the undersides were so tender. Is that me, moaning worse than Myrtle?

His mouth�s replaced the right hand; a sharp bite, then a swirl of the tongue. Where�s that hand going?

Oh! Oh, yes, I see, keep it there, don�t mind me,kingking like a hexed puppet with every swish-flick of the finger.

Oh, those fingers! Long, flexible, now a brush, now a dip. Oh, yes, more, Sir, please, I want some more!

�Ooooh, Severus!� Yes, Professor would be totally inappropriate.

Waves hit the sides of the bath as I move, splashing over our heads to douse the nearest candle on an especially energetic squirm. Pity the house elf that cleans up.

Bugger the house elf. Everything�s getting bright.

I�m clenching on his hand; kneecaps will be bruised tomorrow from bouncing on marble, but do I care? The heat�s incredible as I come, spasming �round his fingers, screaming out his name as I flood them with moisture thick and cloying as the perfumed air.

I fall forward onto his chest, panting. Am I floating? Are those candles, or comets?

Strong arms come around me. A low, treacle chuckle rumbles above. �Lusty le cre creature, aren�t you?�

A backwash sways my body pleasantly against his. �And you�re not, I suppose?�

�I am not - Aaah, please! - in any way little. Mmmm, Hermione.�

That�s right, you know my name. Use it.

Hang on, it�s the most familiar word to my ears. Why are they sending signals via the grey mush that it�s the sexiest word in the language? Oooh, do that again, it�s wonderful!

Incredibly wonderful. Never ridden a man before. I may become addicted to it.

Just as I thought, this man�s a Master of more than Potions. He�s moving me, splashing up to meet my downstrokes. Never been stretched this way, can feel every twitch and pulse, he�s so much bigger than�

Oh! Oh, that must be - yes, it�s definitely that spot, he�s hitting it hard, yes, over and over, laughing at my moans. Oh, smirk all you will, just don�t stop rubbing me there. Oh yes! Yes, Severus!

Never realised he�s beautiful. Attractive, yes, but thnevenever seen him through a lustful golden haze, head threshing, eyes rolling as he pumps. Thrust. Twist. Grate. Groan. Yes, go faster, sod the fact the candles are failing, one by one. Who needs to see, when feeling�s this much fun?

Letting go consciousness, firebolts shooting at every move, voices twining as they bounce back from the walls. Aaah, Severus! Dear Gods, Hermione!

Co-ordination�s to pot, can�t hold still. I need him closer, deeper, now. He understands; his hips snap hard, throwing cooling water over me. Vision�s narrowing, everything�s narrowed to him, and - oh!

Oh. Oh, yes! He�s spilling now, yelling my name as he floods me with hot, hard jets of Snape. Body flicks, head snaps back. Exploding. Seeing Infinity. Can I bottle this, please?
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The Wage of Sin