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Playing with Slytherins	By : onecelestialbeing Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 69049 -:- Recommendations : 7 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter and it's characters, nor do I make any money from this sordid little fic :)

Chapter List
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A/N: Finally posting this after being repeatedly threatened. Contains F/F, un-betad so all errors are my own.

"Draco, will you please get off of my desk?" Hermione fussed, attempting to push at the slim, blond wizard. "You're getting my papers all wrinkled."

A week had passed since Hermione was last at Malfoy Manor. She had every intention of meeting up with Lucius and Severus again, yet her workload suddenly doubled, and Hermione found herself tethered to her desk until late nearly every day. She had barely gotten through half of the mess of papers when Draco came sauntering in as if he owned the place, and stopping at her desk and sitting on the edge.

"Oh, sorry about that, Granger," he replied offhandedly, leaning up and looking down at the slightly wrinkled parchment that he'd sat on. "So, are you going to come or not?"

"I can hardly just up and leave, Draco! I have work to finish, and it won't sort itself out."

Draco frowned at the piles of books and folders on Hermione's desk. "Why don't you get an assistant to help you with this clutter?"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione picked up an armful of folders, briefly poring over their labels before putting them in her drawer. "Because, the only way to make sure everything is done properly is if I do them myself! Draco-NO!" Draco had deftly snatched the next pile of parchment that Hermione picked up, refusing to hand it over. "Aren't you supposed to be in your own office?" she griped. "And not in mine, bothering me?"

"I was sent to collect you," Draco replied unrepentantly, both arms casually folded across his chest. "And told to not return back home without you."

Hermione looked up at Draco, glowering at the smirk on his face. "You Malfoys' always get what you want, don't you?"

Draco gave a small shrug. "Pretty much, yeah. Oh c'mon, Granger. It's only tea; you act like my mum is going to bite you." He should have been warned by Hermione’s ominous silence, yet kept prattling on. "If you think I'm bad, Father and I have nothing on Mum when she gets a notion in her head."

Hermione was sure that Draco was unaware as to what happened between her, Lucius and Severus. However, she remembered Narcissa's words the morning after their tryst. Hermione didn't know how to feel about that situation; she was flattered by the idea of the attractive woman fancying her, yet still, the idea of actually carrying anything to fruition was daunting. Now, here came Draco, practically twisting her arm to make her accept Narcissa's invitation, and she was positive that the beautiful, older witch have every intention of biting her, in addition to a litany of other things.

"Draco, I don't know..." Hermione's voice trailed off, sighing as she forlornly cast another glance at her disheveled desk. "Besides, Kingsley isn't going to let me leave early."

"Kingsley already told me that you were excused for the day. Oh, and he said to tell you that you should have a little fun seeing as today's Friday."

"Why you sneaky, slippery little snake!" Hermione hissed. "How dare you go over my head and to my boss?!"

"Slytherin!" Draco drawled, as if that was explanation enough. "Fine; Father also told me to not return without you. He said Mum's been harassing him all week about having you back over, and he'd like a bit of peace. I was told to do whatever was needed to make you comply."

"Snakes! Cunning snakes, the lot of you," Hermione snapped, hastily organizing her desk into some semblance of order and pulling her handbag from beneath it. She was just about to open her mouth to berate Draco again when the office door opened, Kingsley's tall and purple robed figure walking in.

"I see Mr. Malfoy's found you," he commented in a deep voice. "He said he was here to escort you to tea; I told him you work so diligently that I didn't mind if you took the rest of the day off."

Draco turned around to Hermione, a cheeky grin on his face that clearly said I told you so.

"Thank you, Kingsley," Hermione uttered between clenched teeth, forcing a smile upon her face. "Well, have a good weekend." Kingsley flashed the two a smile before sauntering back out of the office. "Can I at least stop by my house to change clothes?" she continued, thinking about Narcissa's dressier apparel, even during the day. "I don't think my outfit is hardly appropriate."

"You look fine; now let's go," Draco contested, sounding impatient. "I have plans to meet with Harry for lunch, and Mum made it clear that she'd send her owl to peck at my head all day unless I brought you back with me."

"Whatever, Draco," Hermione grumbled when he clutched onto her arm and began pulling her out of the office. He cheerfully steered her to the lifts, with Hermione staring daggers into the side of his blond head the entire way.

Once the two arrived at Malfoy Manor, Draco ushered Hermione to his mum's vast, ornately decorated private sitting room, thrusting her inside without so much as a by-your-leave.

"I've raised you to have better manners than that, Draco!" Narcissa called behind her son as she warmly smiled at Hermione. "Hello, dear," she greeted, gesturing for younger witch to sit down across from her.

Hermione tentatively greeted the ornately clad witch, already feeling self-conscious in her casual skirt and blouse. She began smoothing out a non-existent wrinkle, until Narcissa chided her to not worry herself. "How do you take your tea?" she asked, her hands moving to the silver tea set that was on a low table before them.

"Extra milk, no sugar, please," Hermione replied, now nervously fidgeting with her hair. Offering a small smile when Narcissa handed over the teacup, she sat back on the chaise, cautiously sipping at the hot liquid.

"I know my invitation was served a bit abruptly," Narcissa continued, now pouring her own tea, "but I hope it wasn't too inconvenient."

"Not at all," Hermione truthfully admitted, settling back against the ornate brocade covered chaise. "It's not as if I had plans after work; usually I just go home and read."

"Draco mentioned something of the like; I don't understand how a young, attractive witch such as yourself is always confined to her home outside of work hours."

"Well, I don't stay home every weekend..." she trailed off, intently focusing on the teacup in her hands. It was clear that Narcissa had designs on the younger witch, and Hermione still wasn't sure on how to handle the situation. "But it's not as if I mind, really. I go out with Harry and Draco whenever they think I need to see something other than the inside of my house."

"Those two," Narcissa added, quietly laughing. "Draco is just like his father in that aspect; he always needs to roam about. If Draco isn’t off with Harry, then Lucius is off with Severus. Speaking of which, I hope those two weren’t too rough with you last weekend?”

Hermione had just taken a rather large mouthful of tea, and nearly choked when she realized what Narcissa was referring to. Coughing and clapping one hand over her mouth, Hermione gratefully accepted the linen napkin Narcissa handed her, dabbing at her mouth before speaking. “No, they weren’t in the least,” she rasped out once she caught her breath.

“Not that I’ve personally experience Severus’s favors, but I’ve watched him with Lucius,” Narcissa went on casually, as if they were speaking about the weather instead of her previously watching her husband and his lover having sex. “I know can be a bit dominating, although Lucius has the same tendency at times. “

Silently nodding her head, Hermione set down her teacup and napkin on the table. She knew that she shouldn’t have been surprised at Narcissa’s direct manner, not after the occurrences of the previous weekend. Furtively peeking across at the older, graceful witch, Hermione took in her appearance.

Just as she had expected, Narcissa was wearing one her customary silk dresses, even though the grayish lavender frock was less understated than the one she’d worn to dinner. Her long, pale blonde hair hung down loose to her shoulders, and she wore little cosmetics, save for her red nails and lips. Right then Narcissa also put down her teacup, standing up and crossing over to Hermione, who was slightly trembling with anxiety.

“I can see why Lucius and Severus are so fond of you,” Narcissa continued, sitting down next to Hermione and lightly stroking her hand with a fingertip.

Hermione tried not to flinch at the contact, although admittedly it was pleasant. “Is that so?” she asked, hoping that her tone didn’t betray her nervousness.

“Very much so; I can see why Lucius didn’t want to share.”

Briefly wondering if she should feel the slightest bit insulted, Hermione was distracted when Narcissa’s red tipped fingers came up to her head, easily undoing the snug bun that had been securing her curls into place. “Feel better?” she asked, gently caressing the tresses that now cascaded down Hermione’s back.

“Yes,” Hermione reluctantly admitted, unable to keep her eyes from closing. Tension that Hermione had been unaware of began leaving her body, and soon she was languidly leaning against Narcissa’s warm, silk covered side. Her head ended up buried against the older witch’s neck, her heated skin giving off the scent of a fresh, mildly floral perfume.

The sensation of Narcissa soothingly running her hands through Hermione’s hair, combined with her distinctive essence was heady tonic for the younger witch. When Narcissa’s hand came around to Hermione’s face, cupping her chin and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, Hermione was completely submissive.

Finding that her advances were being welcomed, Narcissa parted her lips, slipping her tongue out to lightly graze against Hermione’s. Moving her hand back to her hair, Narcissa stroked and twirled the errant strands between her fingers as her mouth eagerly captured the soft curve of younger witch's top lip.

Hermione was in complete shock, finding it hard to believe that she was being kissed most thoroughly by Narcissa Malfoy. However, if the more experienced witch decided to stop, Hermione was positive that she would have asked her to keep going. Quietly moaning when Narcissa’s petal soft lips brushed against the underside of her jaw, Hermione slumped against the back of the chaise lounge, letting her head fall to the side.

Right when Hermione began musing over what Lucius had told her about Narcissa being insatiable, the blonde haired witch kneeled between her legs, using both hands to hastily unbutton her blouse. Before Hermione was able to utter another word, Narcissa pushed the fabric to the side, pulled the cups of her bra down beneath her breasts and eagerly latched onto her right nipple.

Hissing at the pleasurable sensation, Hermione insinuated her fingers into Narcissa's soft, blonde hair, attempting to keep her head in place. Wasting no time, the older witch easily made her way down Hermione's stomach, stopping when she reached the juncture of her thighs.

"Let's get these off," she purred, pushing the skirt up to her waist and pulling off her tights and knickers.

Merlin's knickers! Hermione desperately thought to herself, in complete disbelief at how fast things were progressing, and reeling at the fact that Lucius Malfoy's wife had her almost starkers, with both thighs splayed and her sex boldly on display.

Narcissa continued appraising the young witch, only pausing to use her wand to Accio a low, cushioned stool over, which she sat upon before Hermione. Apparently the blonde witch also appreciated the completely bare look, as she delicately parted Hermione's folds back, and dragged her fingertips over the soft, pink flesh.

Hermione was nearly too scared to look down between her legs, but found it damned impossible to focus her attention elsewhere. Narcissa was raptly eyeing and stroking her outer pussy lips, as if she found them enthralling. She was still hesitant about the whole situation, certain that Lucius, or even Narcissa's lover, Claudette, would have something to say on the matter.

"You have the prettiest flower I've ever seen," Narcissa mused, breaking Hermione out of her reverie.

"Is that so?" Hermione nervously stammered, her mind still suggesting that she get up yet her body clamoring to remain on the chaise, in hopes of the slim, marauding fingers delving higher.

"Very much so," the blonde witch assured, her red-tipped fingers still grazing the outer folds. The digits finally brushed against the now throbbing bud of Hermione's clit, causing her hips to jerk sharply. "Too much?"

"No," Hermione answered breathlessly, her fingers curling against her palms, feeling a jolt of desire shooting throughout her body.

Narcissa gave her a warm smile, continuing to boldly stroke the sensitive nub until it was engorged beneath her fingertips. Hermione was rapidly becoming wet, to the extent that she felt the slippery juices trickling down her inner folds. She fought to keep her body still, and that only further encouraged Narcissa, as she then collected a bit of Hermione’s gathering nectar and spread it over the hood of her clit.

"Fuck!" Hermione hissed as her eyes screwed shut, her legs slightly shaking at the sublime sensations. Masturbation had never felt so good, and the build-up was nearly enough to send her careening over the edge faster than she anticipated. Hermione finally managed to pry her eyes back open, and she looked down at Narcissa to see her suggestively licking her lips.

"We will, and not before long," she purred, dipping her head low, flicking her tongue out at the stiffened nub before completely engulfing it with her blood-red painted lips.

Hermione was too far gone to even consider protesting, but she still attempted to hold back the high-pitched moans that were threatening to erupt from her mouth. Never in her life had she been licked so carefully. When Lucius and Severus had gone down on her, the sensation was enough to make her let loose an ear-splitting scream. Narcissa's touch proved just as fruitful at eliciting a similar result, even if her ministrations were on the more delicate side.

No longer caring about her inhibitions, Hermione reached both hands down to hold back the pale blonde strands that tickled her thighs, allowing Narcissa to freely lap at her sex. Hermione began clamoring for more, and found it becoming increasingly difficult to keep her hands from fisting too roughly into Narcissa’s hair. The older witch paused and moved back from between Hermione’s thighs long enough to use her wand and charm her hair into a secure knot, briefly kissing Hermione’s lips before resuming her activities.

Gasping sharply when Narcissa’s moist, warm mouth descended upon her clit once more, Hermione’s fingers fervently clutched at the slippery brocade of the chaise lounge, desperate with the need to hold onto something. Narcissa slipped one finger, and then a second, inside of her clenched channel, her fingertips grazing against Hermione’s primed g-spot. Her soft lips and tongue never strayed from her clitoris, and soon Hermione was holding onto the back of the chaise with both arms, her hips bucking wildly against Narcissa’s face.

Without warning, Hermione forcefully exploded into an orgasm, her high-pitched cries rebounding off the walls of the sitting room. Narcissa’s touch tapered off as Hermione came down from her release, the older witch planting a kiss on her trembling inner thigh before standing up.

“I knew you would taste as delectable as you looked,” she purred, tracing her tongue along Hermione’s bottom lip. The younger witch was still panting for air when the blonde pressed her soft lips against hers, her musky scent lingering on her face.

Narcissa then knelt up over Hermione, one hand braced onto the back of the chaise. By now Hermione was more lucid and curious eyed Narcissa when she grabbed onto her hand and guided it beneath her dress. Shocked to find that she wasn’t wearing anything beneath the silk frock, Hermione quickly came in contact with the sparse hair between her legs. Narcissa’s clit was already peeking out from beneath its hood and her pussy was positively drenched, having grown aroused from going down on Hermione.

Hermione felt slightly daunted, as she’d never been intimate with a woman before. Yet when she began rubbing Narcissa’s clit the way she did to herself, the blonde witch moaned in approval, her hips moving in tandem with her hand.

“Use your fingers inside of me,” she breathlessly suggested, her tongue flicking out at her lipstick smudged lips. Hermione sank two fingers into her slippery heat, using her thumb to continue stimulating the stiffened bundle of nerves.

Hermione’s skirt was still hiked up around her waist as she finger-fucked the blonde witch into a shuddering state. Narcissa attempted to hold up the layered silk dress, but the slippery material kept falling from her grasp.

Pulling Hermione’s hand from beneath her dress, Narcissa settled back onto the chaise, drawing the material up past her splayed thighs. “Come here, darling,” she beckoned to Hermione with one red-lacquered finger.

“Wait, what if I-“ she began to protest, eyeing the slickened, plump pink petals of Narcissa’s pussy, only to be neatly cut off by the witch.

“Just do whatever you think I might like,” she coaxed, using one hand to gather Hermione’s mussed curls and urging her head down between her legs.

Hermione dove right in, and found that Narcissa tasted nearly the same as her, remembering the stickiness of her release that was still on her face when they'd kissed. Her juices were salty and slightly musky, the thin strip of hair atop her mound tickling her nose.

Darting her eyes to Narcissa’s face, she found that both her eyes were closed as her hand eagerly dug into Hermione’s hair. “Yes, just like that darling,” she moaned, undulating her hips when Hermione’s tongue tentatively flicked and swirled around her clit. “That’s perfect, so perfect.”

Hermione could hardly believe that she was noisily lapping at Narcissa’s cunt, and actually enjoying it. Working two fingers back inside of her and causing the witch to groan loudly, Hermione wrapped the other arm around her thigh and pulled her closer.

Narcissa’s back was arched, her hips smoothly moving about, her neatly coiffed blonde curls falling flat as she tossed her head from side to side. Her fingers were still insinuated in Hermione’s hair, although her grip never tightened. Instead she let her hand rest on her head, even though she was clearly enjoying the way the younger witch’s face was buried in her quim.

“Yes, darling, yes,” she continued to moan, her thighs tensing against Hermione. “Don’t stop.”

Hermione felt her own channel beginning to throb again as Narcissa’s moans flooded her ears. Her walls were throbbing around her fingers, her juices mingled with Hermione’s saliva and trickling down the blonde witch’s bum to form a dark circle on the chaise. Narcissa’s legs began trembling, her grip on Hermione’s hair becoming marginally firmer. Still murmuring ‘don’t stop’, her hips bucked against Hermione’s mouth until her groans culminated to a shrill exultation, her walls pulsing furiously around the probing fingers and filling the palm of Hermione’s hand with her slick juices.

Watching as the blonde came back down with a shudder, Hermione was about to withdraw her fingers from Narcissa’s body when she reached down to keep her hand in place. Realizing that she wanted more, Hermione continued thrusting her digits back and forth, allowing her thumb to brush over the hood of Narcissa’s clit.

Narcissa’s moans grew louder the faster Hermione moved her hand, her juices making loud squelching noises as they copiously gathered between her knuckles. At Narcissa’s behest, Hermione slid her little finger up into her arse, her three other fingers buried knuckles deep inside of her pussy, and her thumb still swirling over the bright-red clit.

Hermione kept up with a steady rhythm, enthralled with the lewd moans and swears that she was able to pull from the usually stoic and prissy witch. Astonished at the multiple orgasms that Narcissa was able to achieve easily, Hermione continued fingering her into a fourth, trying to ignore the slight burn that began creeping into her arm.

The older witch begged for Hermione to continue, and she had to switch hands, as her muscles were now burning from the continued efforts. Her movements were a bit off as Hermione wasn’t accustomed to using her left hand, and she opted to use her mouth again.

Narcissa climaxed yet again after a few minutes, and Hermione switched back to her right arm. She wanted to laugh when she remembered Lucius telling her that his wife was insatiable. Succubus was more like it; Hermione thought that her arm was going to fall off!

“Cissy, give the poor girl a break before she dislocates something,” a smooth voice drawled next to her head. Narcissa’s eyes had been closed, and she opened them, looking down to find her husband perched on the coffee table behind them. Hermione’s eyes grew wide when she saw Lucius, resplendent in black dress robes and holding his walking stick, his grey eyes holding what appeared to be amusement as he eyed the two witches draped half naked about the chaise.

Hermione yanked her hand away from Narcissa’s sopping wet crotch, at a complete loss for words. Nervously peering around Lucius, she noticed Severus sitting in the armchair behind the coffee table, also dressed in black wizard’s robes and smirking at the two.

“Hello Lucius, Severus,” Narcissa loftily greeted, unperturbed by everything as she shifed her sex and sweat dampened dress over her thighs and sat upright on the chaise. “Did you just come in?”

“We came in long enough ago to witness you trying to break Hermione’s arm,” Lucius smoothly replied, setting his walking stick down on the floor. “Forgive my wife, Hermione,” he continued, looking at the wide-eyed, messy haired and red lipstick-streaked younger witch. “You must have done something correct, as she’s in a right state.

“I apologise if I’ve over-exerted you, Hermione,” Narcissa said. “But I must confess; your little hands fit inside me quite perfectly. It was delightful, thank you.”

“Umm…you’re welcome,” Hermione shyly answered, wondering just what the hell her next move should be. She rose from the ottoman, awkwardly pulling her skirt back down over her hips and righting her bra and blouse. Crossing over to the chair next to Severus, Hermione sat down and watched as Lucius took her place, roughly pulling his wife towards him.

“You’re a greedy, little trollop,” he murmured, dropping his head towards Narcissa for a kiss.

“You’re the greedy one, Lucius,” she smirked, casting a glance in Hermione’s direction. “Besides, Hermione wasn’t complaining, were you, dear?”

“Feel free to close your mouth at your leisure, Miss Granger,” Severus drawled in a tone that only Hermione was able to hear, clearly amused by the nonplussed expression on her face. Hermione didn’t realize that her mouth was in fact hanging open; if it hung any lower, it would have brushed against the ornate woven tapestry covering the floor.

Lucius had pushed Narcissa’s silk dress out of his way, and was now running his gloved hands over bare her thighs. Without warning he pushed two long, black leather encased fingers into her, earning a sharp cry from the writhing witch.

Hermione wanted to look away, but was unable to, fascinated by the sight of Narcissa’s pale thighs draped around Lucius’ body as he hovered over her, thoroughly fucking her with his gloved fingers until she cried out in satisfaction. When she had gone over two times, he slowed down, using his free hand to unfasten the placket of his trousers.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Severus asked, breaking Hermione out of her reverie.

“I…ah…” she stammered, the moisture between her legs more abundant and clinging to the lining of her skirt.

“Lucius,” Severus suddenly called, drawing the blond wizard’s attention away from his wife for a second. “I’m going to escort Miss Granger home.”

Lucius nodded his assent, frowning slightly when Narcissa pushed at his chest. “Thank you for stopping by, Hermione,” she trilled, turning her head and smiling. “Remember, you’re welcome here anytime you like.”

“I’m sure she is,” Lucius playfully growled, capturing Narcissa’s bottom lip between his. “Stop trying to steal our witch. Good day, Hermione,” he continued with a final, brief glance in her direction.

Hermione told Lucius and Narcissa goodbye, almost forgetting about her discarded tights, knickers and shoes that were strewn about on the floor. Severus used his wand to Accio Hermione’s wand, as well as the rest of her clothing and handbag, and held onto them as he escorted her out of the drawing room.

“What in the-!” she cried once they were out in the hallway, the faint sounds of the Malfoys’ mingled groans in the background. “What the hell just happened? How the hell-“

“I think the ‘what’ is pretty clear, or it should be at this point,” Severus chuckled, leading Hermione to the Apparition point of the manor. “The ‘how’ sounds as if it would make for an intriguing tale.”

“Oh, shush,” Hermione laughed, accepting her shoes from Severus and pausing to shove her feet into them. “I cannot even be arsed with my tights and knickers,” she added, wadding the tangled material into a ball and shoving it into her purse.

After righting herself, Hermione held onto Severus’ arm and Apparated them to her house. “Damn, I need a shower. I positively reek of sex,” she announced as she kicked her shoes off and pattered through her front room.

“Indeed; you also look as if you’ve been engaging in it for the past few hours,” Severus agreed, shoving a pillow out of his way and sitting down on the sofa. “I must say, the sight of you with Narcissa was quite fascinating.”

“I’ve never slept with a woman before…it was different, but I liked it,” Hermione answered. “But damned if Lucius was lying; once Narcissa gets warmed up, there’s no stopping her. My arm feels as if I’ve punched a brick wall.”

“Come here,” Severus told her, beckoning Hermione to come over. Moving next to him, Hermione sighed with relief when his strong fingers began pressing into her overworked muscles. “Better?”

“Much; thank you,” she answered, flexing her right arm.

“You said that you liked trysting with Narcissa, but judging from that spot on the back of your skirt, I daresay you more than just liked it.”

Hermione felt her face grow hot; she felt the dampened fabric brushing against her thighs and was trying to ignore it. Trust Severus to call attention to it. “Perhaps,” she mumbled, moving to stand back up.

Severus had other ideas, and held onto Hermione, keeping her in place on the sofa. His dark eyes bore into hers as his hand came upon her knee, traveling up her inner thigh and finding the moisture that clung to her skin. “Perhaps?” he echoed, withdrawing his hand and showing his slickened fingertips to Hermione.

“All right, dammit!” she snapped. “I loved it; it was fucking incredible. Merlin knows I could have used more, but Narcissa was intent on-“

“If you need more, then just say the word,” Severus neatly interrupted, pushing Hermione to lie flat on the sofa and tugging her skirt up to her navel. Two slender fingers immediately slipped into her still aroused and humming body, pressing into each sensitive spot and making her explode in mere seconds.

Hermione used her sofa for many things; curling up in place with a book in hand and a mug of tea nearby, stealing a quick nap, or sometimes as temporary storage for her books and trinkets when she was in the midst of cleaning. But never would she have imagined being splayed out on it, with Severus between her legs and fingering her to an impressive set of multiple orgasms.

Her skirt was positively saturated when he paused to unfasten his trousers after Hermione practically screamed that she needed Severus to fuck her. The raven-haired wizard hadn’t bothered to remove his robes, and Hermione still wore her buttoned up blouse. Impatiently shoving Severus’ trousers and pants down to his thighs, she lie back and nearly ripped her skirt in the process of pulling it out of his way.

Once a contraceptive charm had been cast, Severus placed both Hermione’s legs up over his shoulders, her ankles next to his ears. He was achingly erect, and hadn’t needed to use his hands to align himself with Hermione’s entrance.

The petite witch was already moaning and writhing in pleasure before he fully sank into her body. Severus began fucking Hermione strongly, his hands clutching the top of her shoulders as he pulled her back to meet each of his thrusts.

Hermione was barely able to move a scant inch, pinned beneath Severus’ weight as he fucked her into the supple leather sofa. Frantically clutching at empty air, Hermione finally settled with digging her fingers into the black robes covering Severus’ side, losing control of her body with each of his powerful lunges.

Letting loose an ear-splitting screech, Hermione came apart at the seams as her pussy tightened and convulsed around Severus’ thick shaft, his thrusts still growing more fervent by the minute.

Narcissa wasn’t the only insatiable Slytherin, Hermione fleetingly thought. Severus was fucking her purposefully, as if he had no intentions of ever leaving her body. Each thrust sent her moving further back on the sofa, until her head was at an awkward angle and dangling over the edge. Even then, Severus held onto her, his grip never loosening as he labored over Hermione, causing her to climax again.

Hermione didn’t think that she would be able to come again, only for Severus to prove her wrong. He withdrew from her body long enough to turn her over and pull her back up on her knees, easily sinking back into her hot sheath. Letting out a litany of swears mingled with Severus’ name, Hermione’s moans were partially muffled by the arm of the leather sofa whenever she lowered her head.

One last jolt of pleasure shot up her spine, and Hermione came so hard that she was unable to see for a minute. Feeling Severus’ cock twitch with its release, Hermione shuddered as she came back to earth, dimly registering when the raven-haired wizard sagged against her, his heaving chest pressing down against her back.

“Severus, we need to get out of these clothes,” Hermione murmured once her breathing returned to normal. “We’re sticking to one another.”

The wizard gave a chuckle, pulling out of her warm body and sitting back on the sofa. “We’re sticking to the furniture as well,” he amended, feeling the dampened leather. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“Back there,” Hermione answered, weakly pointing as she slumped back against the sofa. “Can’t you Locomotor me in there? I can’t feel my legs.”

Severus chuckled, leaning towards Hermione for a kiss, who tried pulling back. “No, remember that I-“

“Open your mouth, Hermione,” he calmly stated, grasping her by the chin. Hermione dutifully obeyed, moaning when Severus planted his mouth over hers, his tongue gently tangling around hers. “Hmm, you taste much better than Narcissa,” he drawled afterwards, smirking when he saw Hermione blush. “Now up you go; I’m afraid that your skirt may be unsalvageable,” he mused, peering at the torn and come-stained garment.

“Sod the skirt; I need a shower and a nap,” Hermione replied, reaching around behind her and undoing the clasp. “All right then,” she told Severus, standing up, letting the damaged skirt fall down her legs and pool at her feet. Stepping out of the pile of fabric, Hermione was bare-arsed as she led Severus to the back of her house.
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Playing with Slytherins