Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Valentine	By : AmaliasTale Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 4498 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story, but I did have fun

Chapter List
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Amalia’s tongue entwined with his and she pressed her hips hard into his leg. When she nipped playfully at his bottom lip with her teeth, Snape pulled away, smirking; Amalia lunged impatiently for more, but Snape turned so that her mouth collided with his sallow cheek. He snickered, “Eager, aren’t we?”

Pink in the face, Amalia released him and stepped back. Smoothing her robes, she giggled and replied sheepishly, “Oh, um, yeah. Sorry.”

Snape brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and leaned in for another kiss, this one slower, deeper than the last. Amalia followed his lead, her lips dancing with his in earnest and sensual passion, her chest heaving rhythmically against his own, fingers roving through his long black hair. Mouth still firmly pinned to hers, Snape began undoing the buttons that secured her robes until the garment fell to the floor at her feet. He let out a sharp laugh when he saw the Valentine’s Day outfit that she had concealed underneath.

Amalia frowned. Getting dolled up with her girlfriends earlier that evening in the Slytherin dorms, she had felt unstoppably sexy. But now, she sensed that maybe she had left her blouse unbuttoned a bit too low, revealing the lacy top of a red camisole; her pleated skirt was perhaps a little too short, only just skimming the top of her black thigh-high stockings; and her shiny red pumps, which she had bought especially for Valentine’s Day in a Muggle shop in London, thinking them so seductive at the time, now seemed tacky and jejune under the eye of this stoic and sophisticated man.

Running his hands over her bare arms, Snape chaffed, “Hardly appropriate detention attire, Miss Neverscorn.”

“Well, hardly appropriate detention behavior, Professor Snape,” she rejoined cheekily, giddy at his touch.

“That goes for both of us, I suppose. Tell me, were you actually planning on going out in this,” sneering, Snape looked her up and down, “…ahem, outfit? Because I should hope that a student of Hogwarts, particularly a member of my own House, would not plan on representing herself in public like a complete harlot. ”

Amalia snorted and rolled her eyes. “I guess you must not see a lot of us Slytherin girls on the weekends, Professor. Yes, I did think maybe I could go to the party if I got out of detention early,” pausing, she placed a hand on his chest. “This is much better, though,” she finished quietly, rising up on tiptoe to kiss him once more.

“I am inclined to agree,” he said slyly before meeting her lips. As they kissed, Amalia started to unbutton her blouse.

“Please, permit me to assist you,” Snape requested, halting their embrace.

Amalia was still, trying not to tremble but uncomfortably aware of the flurry in her ribcage as her heart pounded with anticipation. Snape took his time undoing her top, releasing each button with measured and tortuous leisure; when he’d finally unhooked the last, he dropped the blouse amid her fallen robes. He arched an eyebrow as his gaze flickered over the hint of cleavage exposed above the neckline of her camisole, which he then, too, peeled off and tossed aside. His arms encircled her waist and he removed her skirt so that she stood before him in a matching pink strapless bra and panties, her black thigh-highs and red heels. Briefly scanning her undergarments, Snape rolled his eyes, “You take this inane holiday a bit too seriously.”

Snape traced his long, pale fingers over the gentle swell of her breasts.   Reaching behind her, he unhooked her bra, which landed onto the growing mound of clothing around her ankles. A low, guttural sound escaped his lips as he weighed her breasts in his cold hands. Closing his eyes, he stroked his thumbs along her curves, his fingertips gliding over her nipples, which tightened at the contact. Amalia’s attention did not waver from his face; the intensity of his concentration as he touched her frightened her a bit, but thrilled her, too. He lifted one breast to his mouth and flicked his tongue over her stiff nipple before wrapping it in his lips and sucking hard, causing Amalia to squeal shrilly. Her abandoned response seemed to awaken him from his reverie and at once his whole manner changed; his hands and mouth grew rough, the delicate massages became frenzied groping, the caresses turned pinches, the licks to bites. He manipulated her breasts rapaciously until he had his fill and, straightening up, growled, “Lovely.”

Snape ran his hands over her hips, up her torso and down again to the waistband of her underpants. He knelt before her and kissed her abdomen, from the bottom of her ribcage to just below her navel. Breathing heavily, Amalia placed a hand on his shoulder, at once to steady her shaking body and, simply, to hold him. She let her head fall back and sighed, savoring the sensation of his lips on her goose-bumped skin. His large nose skimmed the fabric of her panties as he bowed to plant a quick kiss on each of her inner thighs.

Gingerly he rolled her stockings down, removing them along with her shoes, before placing his hands on her calves and running them upward to meet the curve of her ass. Gripping her buttocks, he pulled her to his face and inhaled deeply, then roughly kissed the crotch of her underwear, his tongue probing at her through the thin cotton. Shivering with cold and excitement and nerves, Amalia uttered a strained moan; she wanted him to know she how liked what he was doing, but it came out sounding so overdone, so awkward that she went violently red.

“You’re nervous,” he observed, glancing up, and Amalia detected a note of concern in his voice.

“Oh, a bit,” she chuckled, embarrassed by her obvious inexperience.

He pulled her panties aside and softly kissed the top of her slit, and Amalia felt her own sticky arousal streak her leg when he yanked them off entirely.

“And wet,” he said smugly, sliding his thumb along her velvety lips.

“You made me.”

“Are you enjoying yourself, Miss Neverscorn?”

“Oh, yes. Very much, Professor.”

Without warning, Snape got to his feet, his voice returning a familiar professorial tone, “But my dear Miss Neverscorn, this is supposed to be detention. I have not forgotten that you are here for punishment. It can’t all be pleasure.”

                Amalia opened her mouth in shocked exasperation. They were beyond all this, weren’t they? They were going to—

Abandoning her confused train of thought and attempting to recover the lust of the moment, Amalia adopted her most kittenish air and purred, “But Professor, what about your pleasure?”

“How thoughtful, Miss Neverscorn,” said Snape mockingly, pacing back and forth, “But I am quite accustomed to putting my own pleasure on hold. No need to worry about me. Now, the question is what type of punishment would be suitable. Obviously, at this point, more traditional methods would be… inconsistent with the current circumstances. No,” stopping in front of her, he stroked her cheek, “Something a bit more appropriate.” He gestured toward one of the lab tables where students worked on their potions projects, upon which sat a collection of glass vials next to a large stone basin. “A punishment befitting of those dirty questions… such a dirty little mind. Why don’t I have you clean our dirty potions vials? No magic. I will be at my desk, waiting.”

Raising her eyebrows, Amalia asked, “And I have to be naked?”

“By all means, you are free to put your clothes on and do it fully dressed, if you have changed your mind about your earlier decision.”

Amalia chewed her lower lip contemplatively. She peered over at the little bottles, all lined up and waiting to be cleaned. “You planned this!” she accused indignantly. Snape merely shrugged nonchalantly.

Still turning the present situation over in her mind, Amalia mused, “And me, being naked… that turns you on?”

Snape stared for a long moment before conceding, “Yes.”

Amalia smiled coyly and tossed her hair, “Alright, then.”   Spontaneously, she stooped to slip her pumps back on, ensuring that Snape had a good view of her ass. Turning matter-of-factly, she walked toward the basin with an exaggerated sway in her hips, and the click of her heels on the stone floor echoed throughout the dungeon. If he was going to torment her, she wanted to torment him in kind.

Amalia commenced her assignment by dropping the dozen or so odd bottles into the basin, her eyes fixed on Snape, who was reclining in his desk chair, arms folded across his chest. She stirred the basin carelessly, making sure that some of the contents splashed onto her breasts and abdomen; feigning annoyance, she cooed, “Oops,” wiping at the spill with her hands until her bare torso glistened with soapy water. Snape’s severe expression did not waver.

Scouring the countertop for a rag but seeing none, Amalia turned to the cabinets that lined the wall behind her. She bent over, her legs slightly parted, willfully presenting her most intimate places to the imperturbable Potions Master. She took her time retrieving the rags, knowing that he was watching, that he could see all of her.

Standing again, Amalia withdrew a vial from the basin. Holding the long, slim tube by the base, she stroked the rag suggestively along its entire length, up and down, twisting and rotating, taking time to dwell at the rim. She tossed a casual wink at Snape, who shifted in his seat, before she lifted the vial to eye level to inspect her progress. She opened her mouth and exhaled lightly over the glass, shining it up and laying it aside. As she repeated the process on the next of the vials, she stole a glimpse of her professor’s crotch, wondering if her display was successful in arousing him, but she was disappointed to find that she could not tell whether he was sporting an erection beneath his heavy robes. She continued with several more vials until Snape interrupted the silence with a solitary, “Yes.”

Amalia looked up, startled, “What?”

“An answer for you.   Yes, I do think you’re pretty. Was that not on your little list?”

Bashfully flattered, Amalia could not suppress a grin; “Oh, yes, thanks. Well, I think you’re really hot, Professor.”

Snorting, Snape said, “Obviously… But thank you, Miss Neverscorn.   Now, that’s one answer for you. I believe that is all the charm promised.”

“So does that mean it’s all I get?” she pouted.

“If you receive any other answers, I expect you to earn them. If you play nice, you may receive one or two more checks off of your list the end of the evening.   Of course, in fairness, I would require one or two checks off of my list in return.”

Blushing, Amalia continued her work but focused now on finishing the task efficiently. She was not interested in wasting in play any more games or wasting any more time; she was very keen to find out how things would progress from there. When she had cleaned all of the vials, she asked, “Ok, I’m finished. Now am I done being punished? Because I would really like to move on to the pleasurable part.”

Smirking, Snape answered, “You are finished with your punishment, yes. But whether I am through punishing you will remain to be seen.”
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Valentine