Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

A Sweet Flirtation	By : dragoon811 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 7976 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters therein, and am simply borrowing them for a while. I am making no money from this fic.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Author's Note: Just a reminder, this is a PWP. Meaning smut. Much smut. If you don't like it, don't read it. If you are underage, you probably shouldn't be reading it, but I don't know your maturity level and the library doesn't card for cheap romance novels with really terrible sex, so... I am not responsible for your decisions, ok?

Hermione pushed past shoppers to the display, but it was empty. Oh, no. She had left early for lunch just for this, and it was gone. All of her careful plans were dust.
“What, you come in and don't say hi to me?” George's sudden appearance made her jump and she thumped him with her elbow. “Ouch!”
“Don't do that!” She gave him an exasperated look, but he just grinned and shrugged.
“What are you looking for?”
“Edible Dark Marks,” she admitted. George raised both eyebrows.
“We don't keep many in stock these days.”
“And today you've run out.” Disappointment coloured her tone.
“Don't sound so glum, I've probably got a few in the back.”
Hermione brightened. “Do you? I would just need one.”
“Got a craving, eh?” George led the way, weaving through a handful of small children by the Pygmy Puff cages.
“Something like that,” Hermione muttered, hoping she wasn't blushing. “It's certainly busy today,” she said, trying to make conversation.
“Hah! It's alright. Tomorrow will be busier, but this weekend...” George clambered up a ladder. “School will be out, now that it's summer. This weekend, everyone will want everything. I've been working overtime all week, trying to make up enough stock of the popular items.”
Hermione smiled. “I'd forgotten that Hogwarts would be out for the summer soon.”
“You're not there,” George told her practically. He shoved a box to one side. “Me, I've had to keep paying attention. Gotta keep the Hogsmeade shop full, got to be ready when school's out and about to start...it gets a little crazy. Found them!”
He slid down the ladder, grinning in triumph. “Looks like we've got blood orange, sour apple, blackberry, or sweet cherry. Take your pick, 'Mione.”
“Don't laugh at me—”
“Cherry it is, then.” George pressed the sweet into her hand. “No charge for you, not for that little thing.”
“Really, George—”
“Call it payback for the punching telescope.”
She sighed. “When will you decide you've paid enough for that?”
George shrugged. “When it stops making you give in.”
Laughing, Hermione tucked the Mark into her bag and George steered her towards the door. “Sorry to hurry off.”
“It's Thursday.” Thursday. Her stomach knotted. Would Snape have another Sugar Quill? “It's a workday and lunchtime. Have a good one.”
She kissed his cheek. “Thanks, George.”
“No problem.” He waved her off and Hermione walked happily down the Alley despite the warm summer sun.
The knitting group was back this week, she noted as she blinked, adjusting to the relative dark of the cafe. Snape, however, had not arrived. She ordered the special and took her seat, pulling out her book. Her eyes darted up every few minutes, and when she saw the man in his usual seat, she lifted the mystery higher to hide her grin.
He was here, he had come! Anticipation bubbled in her stomach as she waited for her meal to arrive. She wanted to eat so she could start her retaliation. She thanked the serving witch with a smile and set her book down. Snape had also been served and was watching her.
Hermione smiled at him, too, and began to eat her lunch in earnest. Ever since he'd given her that little show yesterday, she could only imagine that he was, well, interested. Especially after his parting words.
She had mulled over his words, wondering what she was getting herself into. Even as she had planned her reply, had taken care with choosing her robes and even bothering with a bit of cosmetic enhancement, she had asked herself: did she really want to flirt with the potential disaster? Did she really want Snape and all that could possibly entail? Did she still want him even if it turned out to be only a fling?
Yes she did.
Hermione finished her sandwich, brushing crumbs from the last of the crunchy French bread from her fingers. Snape had finished his own meal in what seemed like record time, for he was leaning back, his arms crossed imperiously over his chest and watching her expectantly. He held a Sugar Quill loosely in one hand, the fluffy feather contrasting starkly against his black frock coat.
Smiling at him, Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out the Mark. She unwrapped it slowly, gently. While she wasn't particularly keen on cherry as a flavour, the red and the reminder of his own actions yesterday should make her message clear. Then again, she had had to have gone one step further with choosing a bloody Edible Dark Mark. Subtlety was not her strong suit: she may as well be shouting, “Yes, your interest is returned and I want you in delicious and naughty ways”.
Was it her imagination, or were his eyes darker? A trick of the lights?
Uncaring, Hermione wet her lips slowly. Watching Snape, she trailed her tongue along the Mark's contours. She felt silly and a little naughty, as if she could get caught at any moment—doing what, exactly? Eating sweets? With the snake and skull traced and shining faintly in the cafe's lights, Hermione decided to skip the preamble and stuck the whole damn thing in her mouth.
Snape twitched. He inhaled sharply, his leg stiffened and relaxed, and he clenched his fist so tightly that part of his quill snapped off and fluttered to the floor.
Drunk with her ability to unnerve him, Hermione set herself to work. It wasn't about watching him anymore. No, she was going to enjoy the damn Mark. And she was going to ignore him as much as possible, make him suffer.
She slid the Mark in and out of her mouth a few times, acclimating herself to the curves and ridges. Hermione drew out each suck, lapping when the sweet was too damp or slick. She could not stop herself from wondering what it would be like to suck Snape's cock. Was he long or short? Thick or thin? What did he like?
Allowing herself a glance from under her lashes, she saw the man in question sitting in the same position, most of the quill on the floor in tattered pieces, and so tense she wondered that he wasn't quivering. She did not glance at his lap, hoping for a bulge. There would be no way she could tell at this distance anyway, but his eyes on her made her body heat.
The Mark's overly-sweet flavour was starting to make her a little queasy, but Hermione pressed onwards until it was there almost nothing left except for the thin white stick.
Panting, her lips and tongue stained red, she looked up at Snape and smiled as flirtatiously as she could manage.
The man saluted her with the broken stem of his quill, and she grinned wider in victory.
When she left the cafe, she blew him a kiss on impulse.

Hermione slunk into “her” seat after ordering, fanning herself from the heavy summer heat that had swept into London. Her first—and last—Edible Dark Mark had well lived up to Fred & George's original campaign. It had, indeed, made her sick. She had spent most of last night clutching the rim of the loo, trying desperately to sleep in between bouts of nausea while Crooks had purred anxiously by her feet.
While the morning had found her seriously considering calling in sick to work, by lunch (and after copious amounts of tea) she was feeling better and anxiously looking forward to seeing Snape at the cafe.
She patted ineffectually at her hair. A little heat and humidity and it had fluffed out around her head. If only she had put it back this morning! Or at least brushed it. Oh well, too late now. Hermione pulled some pins from her bag and began to wrestle with the bushy mass. If she could at least get it off the back of her neck, she'd count it as a victory.
Carefully, she lowered her hands. The lopsided bun held. Ha! No, oh, damn... A few tendrils flopped free and Hermione sighed. Oh, well. It was better than nothing, and the air on the back of her neck was blessedly cool.
Hermione thanked the serving witch—she really would have to get the woman's name one of these days—and took up half of her sandwich. Tuna salad today, nice and cool. Still... Hermione chewed nervously at her lip.
Where was Snape?
The cafe was surprisingly busy today and it was slowly filling up. Anxiety gnawed on her gut as she picked at her sandwich. Hermione was working herself into a proper tizzy when the man in question pulled open the door and stepped into the cafe. He paused, his gaze sweeping over the packed room. He scowled until he lighted upon Hermione. His expression went blank and he hesitated.
Without thinking about it, she shot her hand up in the air and waved, smiling.
Snape strode across the room, and Hermione eagerly watched him come. The day's heat must have gotten to him, too, for he wore no cravat and the top few buttons of his frock coat were undone. When he moved forward, his hair swung back, giving her a small glimpse of the pale pink scarring on his neck.
“Good afternoon,” Hermione said quietly as he took the seat across from her. He was flushed from the heat, sweat beading on his forehead and temples. “I was beginning to think you weren't coming today.”
Snape grunted in response, plunking his coins heavily down at the edge of the table. He inhaled, paused, and then gestured towards her water glass. “May I?”
“Oh! Of course!” She handed him the glass and their fingers brushed. He inspected the glass a moment, and then deliberately turned it to drink from where she herself had drunk. Hermione flushed, watching him in awe. Merlin, he must be sweltering in his coat. Snape drank greedily, condensation running down his fingers and his throat working.
The glass was empty when he set it down with a thunk, then refilled it courteously with a nonverbal Aguamenti. Hermione smiled as the serving witch snatched up his coins. “Better?”
“Much, thank you.” Her grin grew wider at his civility, even as the mellow tone washed over her. Merlin, but he had an incredible voice. They were quiet for a moment. “How is your day?”
Alright, a little awkward, but she could handle it. “Could have been better at the start. I wasn't feeling too well last night, but it passed. I would have come anyway. Wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea, after all.”
Snape tilted his head and regarded her. His sandwich was set in front of him as his lips parted to speak, but he waited until the witch was gone. “And what idea is that, Hermione?”
His voice was a decadent purr and she took a deep breath. “That I wasn't looking forward to seeing you, Severus.”
She was immensely proud of herself for not stumbling over his name. For all that she had thought it, saying it aloud was different. A major hurdle crossed, she thought, for Severus was smiling. “How reassuring. I found myself in a hurry this afternoon, lest I miss your company.”
Hermione flushed happily. It should have been stranger, talking to him like this, but the awkwardness was melting away like the ice in her glass. “How is work?”
“Usually, I find it tolerable. Today I find myself itching to hex the wizard who ordered three batches of a delicate potion that requires the heat under the cauldron to rival that of a damned bonfire.” Hermione winced. No wonder he'd been parched. “And he paid for a rush order, of course, so it bloody well has to be done today. My back room seems to have turned into a rather odorous sauna.”
“I should have you stop by my office,” she replied. “Some nitwit on my floor decided to cast a Cooling Charm, but doesn't seem to have been able to moderate just how cool. Or shut it off. I skidded two feet on a patch of someone's frozen spilled tea on my way out!”
Severus chuckled and Hermione smiled widely at him, feeling as if she had won some indescribable prize. She had made him laugh, and the sound delighted her.
“And of course you're not setting it to rights.”
“And volunteer myself as new fixer of all problems? I think not! I have enough problems with Ron or Harry trotting down to ask for help with their reports. I rather hate filing, and I can't wait until there's a spot open on the research team. I'm starting to wish I'd taken Kingsley's offer rather than insisting I work my way up.”
Severus smiled at her, the dimple on one side making a brief appearance. “Tell me, Hermione, how do you like working at the Ministry, aside from the filing?”

Their conversation had flowed smoothly from topic to topic and even Severus had relaxed in the cool air of the cafe. He had stretched out his legs, then retracted as if realising he was sharing his space. Hermione had simply extended her legs, and soon their limbs had been entwined beneath the table, the heat from his knees comforting. Severus's name tripped off her tongue easily now, and the sound of hers rolled from his lips with familiarity. She was utterly enchanted as their water glasses emptied and their lunches reduced to naught but crumbs.
“Any dessert today?” she asked at a small lull.
Severus scowled. “No. Usually I bring chocolates, but they would have melted. I did not think to prepare an alternative choice.”
“I have time still before I have to get back,” Hermione said. “Care to brave the heat for a trip to Fortescue's?”
He hesitated. “If you are willing.”
“I offered, didn't I?” Her heart thudded against her ribs. She'd made the move, would he take it?
Severus rose from his seat, all long legs and grace. He extended a hand and she took it. His hand was warm and calloused. A tingle swept through her. “Indeed you did.”

Fortescue's wasn't terribly busy, surprising them both, and soon they were seated at a small table with their treats. Hermione had used a charm on the sticky tabletop, and Severus was holding his small spoon, delicately licking the remainder of his sample. Hermione adjusted her hold on her cone. The lemon chiffon had looked cool and refreshing, but Severus must have been dead set on his usual Friday fare, for he had gone for chocolate-peanut butter with caramel sauce.
She had to admit, the sundae looked lovely. But lovelier had been waiting in line with him, the buttons on his coat occasionally brushing against her back. She would have leaned into him, but feared her unmanageable hair would catch, and, well... that wouldn't be very good now, would it? He had bent over her to gesture at the cases of frozen delicacies, giving her a whiff of whatever cologne or aftershave he used, his hair brushing over and tickling her cheek.
Every movement, gesture, murmur of his voice hitched her breath. It was so easy, being out with him. More, she was acutely aware of Severus. His breathing, his warmth, his height, his voice, the way his eyes gleamed in the sunlight...
He took a spoonful of sundae, and his tongue snaked out to lick at the frozen treat. Oh, no. Hermione inhaled sharply, heat flooding her loins. He was sexy with ice cream, too? Oh indeed he was, the way his tongue curled around the spoon! And he knew it. His gaze was steady, his lips curving into a challenging grin.
Something cold brushed against her fingers and Hermione glanced at her ice cream, which had melted slightly and was running down the cone. Looking back to meet Severus's eyes, she licked up the melted trail. Her tongue ran over her fingers and up the cone the cone until she could spiral around the ice cream.
Severus's eyes blazed. Sweet lemon dazzled her taste buds, and Hermione extended the cone with a smile. The man didn't hesitate, simply lapped at the proffered sweet then pressed his lips to her fingers. Hermione flushed and clenched her thighs together. He pulled back and offered her a bite of his sundae.
Eyes closed, Hermione opened her mouth. The spoon was cold and she closed her lips around it slowly. She took in more of the spoon as the flavour of chocolate flooded her tongue until her lips touched Severus's fingers.
He drew breath in a long hiss, and she darted her tongue out to taste his flesh.
It was almost obscene, how aroused she was to be playing this game with him in public. Hermione shivered as she grew slick and her nipples tightened. As she pulled back she opened her eyes to find him staring down her shirt, his gaze hot and his lips slightly parted.
His eyes flicked to hers and he licked his lips, a pale pink high on his sharp cheekbones. Deliberately, he licked the spoon. Melting lemon chiffon ice cream plopped onto the table, unnoticed.

They walked towards his shop, Hermione still tasting lemon on her tongue. The sun was too bright, the heat oppressive, but she could barely feel it. She was acutely aware of her hand brushing against Severus's, the way his hair fell forward to shadow his face, of how he matched his longer stride to hers. It was pleasant, keeping her body on edge. After their dessert, he was all that she could think of. She wondered what his kiss would be like, what his body was like under his clothes...
A passer-by jostled into her, pushing her against Severus, who hissed under his breath. Several children ran towards them, paying no heed to shoppers. Out of reflex, Hermione pressed herself more closely against him.
“Damn it,” he cursed, hauling her back and into the nearest shadowed alcove. Hermione found her back against the brick wall, looking up into his face. He looked almost pained. “I cannot—”
She cut him off by reaching up to pull his face down and, without any preamble, kissed him soundly.
He let out a deep groan, melting against her body. The buttons on his coat scraped against those on her blouse. His chest was firm, and—oh my—she could feel a definite hardness below. Hermione wound her arms more securely around his neck. Merlin, the man could kiss! His head tilted, his teeth nipping at her lower lip until she opened with a whimper.
Chocolate flooded her mouth with flavour as she sucked on his tongue. Hermione arched into Severus, one of his arms winding around her. Her breasts were aching. He was warm, his second hand thrusting into her hair. It tumbled down, burying them in its fluff, and he pulled back. His eyes glittering, he growled and kissed her again, his nose bumping against her cheek.
Hermione clutched at the sweat-dampened strands of his hair, thrusting her tongue past his thin lips into his mouth. He tasted divine! She wound her leg around him, trying to press his cock between her thighs.
His hips flexed, the arm around her turning to iron and lifting her higher on the wall. Severus's mouth left hers and she gasped for air, then moaned as he trailed hot, hungry kisses down her neck. His teeth scraped as he nipped at her collarbone, and she shuddered.
The bricks scraped, her hair catching, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Her fingernails found purchase in the wool of his coat, her vision blurring as Severus suckled on the pulse pounding in her throat. His hand was moving from her hair to her breast, palming it through her clothes—
A loud chime chirped and he lifted his head, panting and looking a bit lost. Severus disentangled himself from her gently, setting her on her feet before reaching for his wand and casting a Tempus.
“Shite,” he muttered. His eyes were dark, his hair mussed from her hands, his mouth wet and swollen. “Hermione, I must go tend to my potions.”
“I, uh...” She swallowed repeatedly, trying to clear to fog of desire in her brain. “I should get back to work?”
“What time are you off?” His gaze was intent, trailing from her tousled hair, to her kiss-stung lips and down her neck, where it turned possessive. Hermione was willing to bet she had a love bite, and the thought made her body hotter.
“Erm, six-ish, usually.”
“Dinner?” Severus glanced at his lingering spell. “I will gladly ensure there is a dessert.”
“I'd love to. Meet here?”
“My shop. Every time I have plans, there is always a lingering customer.”
Hermione nodded.
“Tonight, then.” Severus bent his head and cupped her cheek, kissing her one last time.
And then he was gone, disappearing through the shoppers. Hermione shook her head to clear it and walked towards the Leaky, feeling very dazed. And happy.

“Hey, 'Mione,” said Harry, rapping at her door. “Got a minute?”
“Just one,” she replied without looking up as he and Ron came in. “I'm off in a bit.”
“We wanted to know if you could help us tonight? They changed the report layout this week and, well...” Harry trailed off. Hermione sighed and looked up at them. “Merlin's balls, Hermione! What happened to your hair?”
“The heat,” she said as primly as she could manage. “And let me guess, you both waited last-minute to ask me for help on your reports?”
“Er, yeah,” Ron muttered, shame-faced.
“Well, I can't.” Hermione blotted the line she'd written, then folded the parchment crisply before tapping it with her wand. It sailed between the boys and out into the hallway. “I have a date.”
They gaped, and she was so glad she had left her hair down to cover the bruise she did indeed have on her neck. “Really?”
She scowled. “Yes, really. Now, here—”she handed them each a folder “—is a guide to the new report format so you can get them done. I'm done for the day.”
“With who?” Ron asked, trailing after her. Harry was close behind.
“Do we know them?”
“Yes, we were at Hogwarts together, and before you ask, Harry, no, it is not Malfoy, so you can shush.” His fixation on the blond was alive and well, and Hermione was hoping not to hear about it again. The two boys looked at each other as they followed her into the lift.
“Tell us how it went, yeah?”
Hermione smiled, pushing the buttons for their floor and the ground floor as arousal washed over her. “Of course.”
If their earlier interaction was any indication, it was going to go very well indeed.

A bell chimed softly as Hermione entered Severus's overly-warm shop, and he looked up from his current customer, his mouth twisting in a grimace.
“My office is the door on the left, feel free to await me there,” he said. Hermione nodded and left him to his work as the bell chimed again. She heard him swear as the door closed behind her.
She looked around the windowless office: he had only one chair behind the desk, so she seated herself. Who knew how long he'd be? There weren't many things pickled in glass jars, for which she was grateful. Instead, the office held an incredibly sturdy-looking desk, a large file that was half-open and appeared to contain ledgers and files, and several bookshelves filled with tomes that she assumed were on potions as judged by the titles she could read.
Candles hovered at various points, assuring that there was light to read no matter where one stood, and a half-full cup of cold tea was on the edge of the desk by his quill and ink well.
His desk was remarkably tidy.
Hermione sat a while, beginning to fret. She told herself not to be silly, that he had a shop to run, that he wasn't purposely ignoring her. After all, he'd been so terribly responsive earlier. She bit her lip at the memory, bringing a hand up to cup the mark on her neck, flushing.
Merlin, but the shop was warm! Hermione lifted her hair from her neck and pulled her blouse away from her skin. She was still too warm so she rose long enough to discard her turquoise Ministry robes and unbutton the top two buttons of her blouse. Better.
A moment's deliberation and she cast a Mouth-Freshening charm and dug a pack of Toothflossing Stringmints from her pack. The mint was cool, and, she hoped, would mask any lingering breath from her lunchtime tuna sandwich.
She hesitated midway through shoving her robes into her bag, then gave in and Summoned her battered bottle of body spray. She probably smelled like 'office' and sweat, which wasn't really date-material. She had had the bottle for a long time; her mother had given it to her and the label had worn off from being tossed into her trunk and whichever handbag she was using. Hermione was unsure if it was supposed to be vanilla bean or cake frosting or some other cakey fragrance, but she gave herself a quick spritz anyway and settled in to wait.
Getting impatient took her a few minutes longer, but she still drummed her fingers along the desktop before clenching her hands into fists on her lap. She needed to calm herself, maybe think of something pleasant.
Pleasant like their heated kisses earlier? Hermione blushed. Being pinned against the wall by him between scratchy wool and rough bricks, the demanding way he kissed... She squirmed in Severus's chair. Damn, she had meant to think of pleasant things, not turn herself on...but now it was hard not to think of Severus's mouth on her neck, his hand on her breast.
The office door slammed open, making her start guiltily, jumping out of his chair. He frowned. “No need to stand, I just need to file these orders and we can be off.”
He came around the desk and bent to the cabinet. He shoved the sheaf of papers in and half-closed the drawer, then straightened. Severus inhaled slowly. “You're wearing perfume.”
“Er, yes. I smelled like work, and, well, we're headed to dinner.”
Severus flicked a hand at the office door and it closed. “Perhaps dinner should wait.”
“Oh?” Hermione smiled, stepping closer to him. All of the sexual tension she had been harboring since the first day she had seen him at the cafe slammed into her.
“Oh yes,” he murmured. His knuckles brushed over her jaw before he cupped her cheek. “You smell absolutely edible. That is, if you have no objections?”
“None,” she breathed, nuzzling his hand. “I've wanted you since the first time I saw you with that damned Sugar Quill.”
His breath hitched and he slid his hand into her wild hair, bending. She rose on tiptoe and met his kiss halfway, tilting her head so his nose rested against her cheek.
His mouth was gentle at first, coaxing as her blood bubbled through her veins. The tenderness made her head spin and she clutched at his coat for support. A growl rumbled through his chest and he pulled her closer roughly. Hermione gasped and he plunged his tongue into her mouth.
She had a fleeting thankful thought for the mints before her focus changed. His hair tickled her face but she didn't care, instead trying to kiss him more deeply. Severus moved his hands down her back, grasping her arse firmly. He lifted his head, panting, and nibbled her earlobe. She nearly swooned at the feel of his teeth, and tugged on his neck.
“More,” she urged.
“I can slow down,” Severus offered, his silken voice a whisper into her ear.
“After dinner,” Hermione choked out. His tongue was swirling behind her ear, and he nipped at the skin there, frazzling her brains.
He pulled back to look at her in disbelief before his expression turned wicked and knowing. The candles made his eyes glitter, and he smirked, studying her. “So there's to be an after?”
“I hope so,” she replied, kissing his nose.
“Good.”
Severus lifted her onto his desk and she spread her legs, giving him room to step between them. The teacup shattered on the floor, and she heard the steady drip of the inkwell dribbling off the blotter. She didn't care as his lips found her neck, sucking kisses driving her mad. She tugged at his collar, fumbling futilely with the buttons. Severus huffed out a laugh, scraping his uneven teeth against her pulse before sinking them into her flesh.
Hermione moaned at the sweet pain of it as desire pounded through her and her hands jerked, ripping the top buttons free. They clattered across the office floor and she set to work on the rest of the line. He pulled the waist of her blouse free and slid his rough hands to her hips. Her cunt clenched reflexively. She wanted him now.
With a sigh, Hermione finally opened his coat, then made a noise of protest when she saw the white dress shirt underneath. Severus pulled back at the sound and she gathered a fistful of his shirt.
“Off,” she demanded. He grinned at her, one eye brow rising eloquently, and moved to unfasten the buttons. She merely pulled her own blouse off over the top of her head and hurried with the fastenings of her bra. She tossed it in the general direction of her top just as Severus looked up at her, his shirt and coat hanging open, revealing a mere strip of pale flesh smattered with dark hair, including—she moaned, reaching out to touch it—a line down his belly to the dark trousers.
She swatted his hands away, taking over undoing his belt, and he reached for her small breasts. Hermione jerked the leather free with a clink of the buckle and attacked the buttons. Severus cupped her breasts, thumbing her nipples briefly.
As soon as she had undone all but the last button on his placket—damn the man and his buttons!—he pushed her back until she lay across his desk. Severus followed, his mouth hot as it closed around a nipple. She groaned as a hand came up to roll and tug at the other with no preamble, her hips jerking upwards. She slid slightly and wrapped her legs around his waist.
Severus's weight on her was a welcome thing, the buttons on his open clothes digging into her flesh. She clutched at his hair, holding him to her breast as he switched between suckling with long pulls and biting at the soft skin. Bruises blossomed under his mouth and she begged him for more.
He released one nipple to the humid air of his office with an audible pop and moved to the other breast, his hand sliding possessively down her body and then up her skirt to cup her mound. One calloused finger slid under the elastic of her knickers and found her drenched, moving slickly through her folds to stroke her clit.
Fire burned through her and she cried out, pushing him off her, panting. Hermione wrestled out of her knickers, hiking her skirt up and kicking her shoes to the floor with a clunk.
“Come here,” Severus growled, pulling her to the edge of the desk. He looked wicked, mostly clothed and she caught a glimpse of his pale shaft before he stepped between her legs. “You are protected?”
Hermione nodded desperately. Of course she bloody was!
“Good. Merlin, you look beautiful.” The smooth, blunt head of his cock was hot against her and she thrust her hips up encouragingly, trying to take him in. Severus laughed, a husky sound, holding her still. “Patience, Hermione...”
He slid in slowly, teasingly, ignoring her efforts to greedily impale herself. He was certainly thick, a snug fit within her, and long, judging by the moments it took for her to feel his sac nestled against her. The sheer beauty of him filling her stole her breath. It was everything she had wanted during her fantasies, but now she wanted him to move.
“Gods, yes,” Severus moaned. “So perfect...” He grasped her thighs and urged her to wrap them around his hips. His skin was warm under his coat and shirt, and he withdrew just as slowly as he had entered her before pushing back in.
Hermione whimpered. “More, please...”
“As you wish.” His voice was deep and lusty. He adjusted his grip on her waist and pulled out slightly. “Hold onto the desk, Hermione.”
She scrabbled for purchase as he thrust in—and it was a thrust, deep and hard, making her cry out in joy. Yes! This was what she had wanted! Dear sweet Merlin, she wanted more. Severus started a rhythm that reduced her to keening within moments. Every thrust jiggled her breasts and struck that wonderful place inside of her.
“You should see yourself,” he panted, his face flushed with pleasure. His voice was a low growl that turned her blood to lava. “Feel yourself—Merlin, Hermione, I have wanted this, wanted you...”
Hermione moaned, gripping his desk more tightly. His pace was brutal, exactly what she needed, the roughness of his grip and the feel of his trousers slapping against her clit was sending her spiraling already. It was too much, too soon, but she didn't care, merely urged him onwards with wordless cries as she met his thrusts.
She was going to come, her heart pounding in her ears as each stroke found Severus deep in her body. She could feel herself tightening and she sobbed helplessly, letting go of the wood with one hand to grasp her own breast. Her breath was burning in her throat, coming in gasps that left her lightheaded. Her legs quivered around him.
“Close!” she gasped out, looking up into his dark eyes. They were hooded and dilated with passion, his hair sticking to his cheeks and forehead. “Severus...”
“Come, then,” he growled. “I want to feel you come on my cock, Hermione.”
Those words, in his voice—! She shuddered, pinching the nipple in her fingers tightly. Severus changed his angle slightly and she cried out.
“There! Right there! Don't stop, don't stop, don't—” She choked on the rest as her toes curled and her body seized in pleasure. She pulsed around him and he groaned, stilling.
Hermione caught her breath to find him still hard within her. “Didn't you—?”
“Not yet.” Severus stepped back, withdrawing from her. “I want you to turn over.”
“God, yes!” Hermione scrambled off the desk on unsteady legs. He bent her over the desk, pressing her breasts into the wood. Her toes slipped on the spilled ink and he steadied her before changing the desk's height to suit them.
Severus trailed his hand down her spine, her buttocks, and guided himself into place once more with a groan.
“Oh, fuck,” Hermione whimpered as he pushed in. He felt so much bigger, the fit even tighter, and that was saying something.
“Yesssss,” he hissed. He adjusted his position and reached up, tangling a hand in her hair. She tightened herself around him deliberately.
Severus pulled out and thrust back in roughly. She whimpered again, a tiny sound of pleasure. Oh, hell. She slid again on the ink.
“Stay still,” he demanded. He swatted her arse lightly.
“Sorry,” she gasped. The strike turned her mind to mush.
“Did you like that?” His sex-roughened voice was curious.
“Yes,” Hermione replied breathlessly. Severus laughed, the fingers of the hand not holding her hair biting into her hip and he began to move, his rhythm steady and demanding. He pistoned into her, almost brutally, and she urged him on. With every thrust his balls slapped her clit and soon she was moaning, wailing, fire consuming her, her breath leaving her in burning pants...
“Fuck!” she cried out, realising she was actually heading towards another orgasm.
Severus released her hip, his hand dipping briefly to where his cock was thrusting in and out of her cunt. She felt a curious rubbing sensation, then pressure at her entrance, his thrusts slowing marginally, and then his thumb—was that his thumb?—pressed into her arse.
Hermione cried out as he picked up his pace once more. Pleasure raged through her nerves like wildfire, and she vaguely heard her own voice, begging him not to stop, and thought she heard him urging her towards the peak, his cock rubbing perfectly against the spot inside her that made her see stars, his balls striking her clit just right. She was climbing, reaching, almost, almost...
She cried out his name, a strangled sound, her body feeling light and heavy all at once as she fell, her body leaping for the edge and clamping down on his cock.
Severus growled, tugging on her hair until her back bowed, and he sank his teeth into her shoulder with one last thrust that buried him deep. Hermione whimpered, her vision going white. Behind her, Severus stiffened and groaned. She could feel his cock pulsing and twitching inside of her.
They waited several moments, her heart calming and her breathing evening out.
He pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, panting harsh breaths, and disentangled his hand from her hair. His touch was soft as he withdrew from both of her orifices. His rough hands caressed her skin and Hermione relaxed against the desk.
Carefully, she let go of the dark wood and flexed her fingers. Oh, Merlin, she was never going to walk again. Her legs were weak as pudding, and given the choice she would do it all again. Severus busied himself behind her before he helped her unsteadily to her feet. She could feel his seed trickling down her thighs as she turned. Severus noticed as his gaze swept over it, and his look turned from sated to heated, his expression possessive at the sight.
Still, he flicked his wand and the mess was gone. Hermione leaned against the desk, smiling weakly when he handed her her knickers. She covered his hand with hers when he would have pulled away, then rose on wobbly tiptoe to kiss his cheek gently.
“Thank you.”
His smirk was open and genuine, and he bent to kiss her in return. “Wait until dessert.”
Hermione shivered, grinning at him, and Summoned her bra.
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A Sweet Flirtation