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Teaching Miss Granger	By : OracleObscured Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 116943 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 14
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
- 1
- 2
- 3
2 - If You Wanna Be My Lover
Bugger. Bugger. Bugger. Hermione stared at Snape’s office door with a grimace. It had become her new nemesis. The accusatory knotted wood mocked her now (and for the past twenty minutes) as she scrounged up the courage to knock. Just do it, Hermione. Gryffindors are supposed to be brave. Why can’t I just bloody knock already? With one final deep breath, she raised her hand in preparation.
A loud metallic clunk made her jump, and the door flew open, revealing the pale, angular features of the man she’d been fantasizing about for the past month. Horrified at being found out, she could only stand there with her fist hanging in midair, gaping up at him.
His black eyes narrowed at her ridiculous expression. “Miss Granger, are you going to dance around out here all night?” Turning on his heel, he stalked back to his desk.
Hermione felt as if she’d been Stupefied. Brilliant, she thought. Glad that’s out of the way. Soooo much easier to have a chat with someone who knows you can’t even knock on their door. Lowering her hand, she edged into the room and closed the door behind her, sealing her doom. He sat, still as a statue, watching her entrance from behind his desk.
“Sit,” he growled.
The same straight-backed chair he’d used with her a month earlier sat waiting, beckoning her with images of their previous encounter. Face burning at the memory, she sat across from him, the desk a safe barrier between them. Now that she was in his presence, all her fantasies and plans vanished. This wasn’t at all what she’d rehearsed. Eyes darting around the room, she avoided his sharp gaze.
“I do not enjoy one-sided conversations, Miss Granger. Why are you here? Not saying anything,” he added with a sardonic sneer.
How’m I supposed to talk with him staring at me like that?
Snape studied her anxious discomfort over his steepled fingers. He knew why she was there. It was written all over her face like a headline on the front page of The Daily Prophet. Her furtive staring and shoddy spying had been greatly entertaining over the past few weeks. It amused him to see her blush and scamper off every time he met her roving eye. It was so easy to slip into her thoughts and catch a glimpse of her fantasies and sexual frustration.
The silence stretched endlessly as she struggled to make her voice work. Although her mouth opened and closed, no sound came out. Her fingers picked and pulled at the edge of her skirt, the sign language of the mutely nervous.
“Say what you’re here to say or get out,” he snapped.
“I’m trying!” she shot back.
His gaze darkened. Careful, girl.
Slapping her hand over her mouth, her eyes went wide, astonished by her own impudence. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“Mind your tone with me, Miss Granger,” his voice turned dangerously low. “Or I’ll have to teach you another lesson.”
Sweet Circe. Her pussy spasmed at his threat, and she pressed her thighs together, trying to smother the heat. “Yes, sir. That’s . . . um . . . sort of . . . why I’m here.”
One bored black eyebrow quirked in response.
Her mouth had become unnaturally dry. “I was hoping you could, um, expand on our previous . . . lesson." She glanced at him cautiously, trying to read his face.
“Are you propositioning me, Miss Granger? How very Slytherin of you,” he drawled, ebony eyes sparking. “Surely there are boys your own age willing to satisfy your curiosity. Mr. Zabini seemed eager to . . . meet your needs.”
Her face reddened, and she stammered out an inaudible response.
“What was that? You’ll have to speak up, Miss Granger.”
She sighed. “I already tried that. He didn’t really take it seriously.”
Holding back a bark of laughter, Snape affected a tone of innocent curiosity. “Draco, perhaps? The Malfoy men have always had a penchant for dominance.”
He watched her face go from pink to crimson, and then her eyes dropped to the floor again. Bloody hell, she already asked him. To say he was shocked would be an understatement. Had Draco agreed? He’d be a fool to turn her down. Did she sleep with that spoiled brat? He had to hand it to her, she was one ballsy Gryffindor.
“What is it you want from me exactly?” Snape asked, folding his arms over his chest.
Her usual confidence had evaporated, reducing her to a quaking, inarticulate child. When she spoke, her voice sounded shaky, her normal assured inflection massacred by her nerves. “Would you, please . . . spank me again? And . . . um,” she paused, scared to say it out loud, “agree to be my first.”
He was quiet for so long she thought maybe he hadn’t heard her. Chancing a glance, she felt her stomach clench at his unwavering stare.
“You don’t really want that, Miss Granger,” he said softly.
Hermione met his eyes to prove her sincerity. “I do. I’ve thought about it a lot. I’d like my first time to be with someone experienced. I’m sure it will hurt no matter what. I’d prefer there be some pleasure involved.”
“Most girls prefer to be in love . . . or prefer to think they’re in love.”
She slumped back into the chair, looking tired and suddenly older than her given age. With a wry smile, she shook her head. “I’m not most girls.”
Stroking his lip thoughtfully, Snape let another chasm of silence engulf the room before answering. “I’ll consider your proposal, Miss Granger.”
Relief flooded her face.
“But for now I don’t need your maidenhead to take my pleasure from you. Come over here.” She looked ludicrously happy as she sprang up and dashed around to stand next to him. His hand waved in the direction of the desk. “Bend over.”
I can’t believe this is happening. Her heart felt skittish and wild, pounding behind her chest. Hermione had to swallow hard to keep her stomach from jumping out of her throat.
With a detached flick of his wand, Severus warded both the door to the classroom and the door to the hall. He didn’t want any interruptions. Flipping up her pleated skirt, he smirked at her lacy, red knickers. “I preferred the black, Miss Granger.”
She smiled to herself. “You took my only pair, sir.”
A small grin curled one side of his mouth.
Hermione could feel his eyes on her. Waiting, knowing he was looking, made her skin prickle with goosebumps. Warm hands touched her hips, and she felt her knickers being dragged down, exposing her soaked slit to the cool dungeon air. How can I be so wet already? He hasn’t even touched me yet. Her panties dropped to her feet.
“Step out of them.”
Her movements were awkward, making it obvious that she was trying to hide her arousal.
He was onto her game. “Spread your legs.”
A shiver rolled down her spine, and she widened her stance. His seated position would make it even easier for him to spot her predicament.
“My, my, Miss Granger. Already?”
The mocking in his voice made her face burn. Damn him! Why does this turn me on so much?
Damp curls peeked out from beneath her round bum; her response to him was the greatest aphrodisiac. Removing his cufflinks, Snape rolled up his sleeves and stood where she could see him. “Look at me, Miss Granger.”
Turning toward the sound of his voice, she met cold gaze, and every masturbatory fantasy from the past month materialized before her eyes.
He wanted to hear her beg for it. “Ask me nicely.”
Swallowing hard, Hermione licked her lips. The words seemed to be caught in her throat. “Please spank me, sir."
His dick twitched in approval. Standing at her hip, he rested his hand on her naked buttocks, preparing himself, savoring her soft cool skin. The loud clap of his hand slapping her rump rang out sharp and clear through the small room.
Hermione’s eyes widened at the pain. He slapped her again. And again. The rhythmic sound of his hand became a metronome, keeping time with the stinging heat building in her backside. Her eyes began to water; she fought against the growing tension and ache. A grunted whimper slid through her clenched teeth.
Every hit reclaimed his attention. He didn’t blink. There was too much to see: the lovely shade of red blooming, the way her round globes bounced under his hand. He was hypnotized by the view. Every inch was covered, from the top of her bum to the top of her thighs. Bright red. After several minutes, she started wiggling around, distracting him from his task.
“Keep still or I’ll use my belt on you,” he growled.
His belt. A moan escaped her lips. Oh gods! I hope he didn’t hear that!

“Bloody hell, girl,” he muttered, slapping her harder and faster. “The belt it is.”
The burst of intensity pushed a sob up into her chest. She sucked in a deep breath and held it. Eyes squeezed tight, she gripped the far edge of the desk, knuckles going shiny white. His hand was unrelenting.
“Beg me for the belt and I’ll give you what you need,” he purred over the blows.
Her mouth opened on its own accord, independent of her brain. “Please . . .” As soon as Hermione let out her breath, her defenses crumbled, and the sob broke loose. Her shoulders shook as she started crying. The harsh sound of her weeping punctuated the tears that dropped to the desk beneath her.
He’d been waiting for this, the first round of her release. She’d been nothing but a tense ball of nerves since she’d walked into his office. A person couldn’t stay wound that tightly for that long. Something had to give. Now that she had submitted to the pain, he only needed to keep the flame alive. His hand slowed, giving her time between hits. “That’s it. Let it go.”
The tears decreased as the spanking eased. She settled against the desktop, her body going slack. It felt as though she could finally breathe for the first time in weeks. The pain diffused, becoming hazy in the soft glow of her drying tears. Slow and steady, his hand kept up the burn; and she relaxed into the sweet sting.
“Good girl,” he whispered.
She smiled. What is wrong with me? I beg him to beat my bum raw and get off on his words of approval. Merlin, his voice is sexy. A lovely weightlessness came over her, and she let it carry her overactive mind away to a calm empty sea.
After a minute he stopped and asked, ”Do you still want the belt?”
She considered his proposal. Her pussy seemed to be having a heated debate with her brain. “Yes, but I’m scared. How much is going to hurt?”
The corner of his mouth curled into a half-smile. Her voice sounded slow and heavy, as though she’d swallowed a bucket of Tranquility Draught. “It won’t be a punishment.”
Hermione heard the soft scrape of his footfall and turned her head to see him standing beside the desk. Long, pale fingers flicked open his belt, and her stomach flipped at the sight, a fresh wave of excitement coating her sex.
He watched her reaction with a predatory smirk. The responding arch in her back wasn’t fidgeting. She was creaming herself just watching him take off his belt. He could hear her gentle panting, and the lust darkening her eyes was impossible to miss. Returning to her side, Snape touched the folded leather to her heated skin. “Thank me for each stroke.”
“Yes, sir.”
The leather slapped her cheeks with a small crack, and she jumped, her nerves frayed. It scared her more than it hurt; she arched her back for more. “Thank you, sir.”
He hit her again, delighting in her moan. Bloody hell, she sounds as though she’s getting fucked. The bulge in his trousers needed adjusting before he could continue. Every snap of the leather across her backside brought a more lascivious “thank you, sir” than the last. By the time they got to twelve, he was rock hard and seriously considering taking her up on her earlier offer right then and there.
Tossing aside the belt, Snape palmed her fiery red cheeks. Soft whimpers floated up to him as he kneaded away some of the sting. Her back arched harder, offering up more of her burning backside to his touch. Grinding his crotch against her, he grunted, jaw clenched. He knew his wool trousers must be abrading her scorched skin, but she rubbed back against him as if she couldn’t get enough.
“Please, sir,” she whispered.
“Please what?” he asked, crushing his length between her cheeks.
“Please touch me more,” she begged.
The desperation in her voice made him even harder. “Turn around.” Lifting her slightly, he set her on top of the desk. When her bum hit the hard surface, she made a noise of pain through pursed lips. “Anything wrong, Miss Granger?”
Hermione met his laughing eyes. “No, sir.”
“Then lean back.”
His hands hooked under her knees and pushed them to her chest. She didn’t know where to look. His eyes told a story of desire, but his hands had become unduly fascinating. When one long finger traced the line of her sex, she gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head, preventing her from seeing anything at all.
Snape grazed her clit with his thumb as he sank a finger inside her. Her reaction was better than he’d imagined: a sharp inhale accompanied a fitful roll of the hips. Her pussy was practically sopping for him.
When he added another finger, she felt as if her head would float off; it didn’t seem to be connected to her body anymore. Her entire being was concentrated into the few inches of skin he was touching.
With a flick of his wand, her shirt fell open, revealing a red lace bra. The dusky pink of her areolae were clearly visible through the sheer lace, her nipples hard and begging for attention.
“Touch them,” he ordered.
There was only a brief, tentative pause; and then she lay back, her hands ghosting over her ribs before cupping her breasts. Her fingers brushed the stiff peaks then pinched them, her back jumping with a short spasm. Curling his fingers, Snape continued his methodical assault, intent on watching her deconstruct.
“Yessss,” he hissed above her.
Her pussy melted at the sound of his voice. His fingers made her ache; pressure was building. She felt like a tea kettle on the verge of boiling over. It was so much more intense than when she did it herself. Alone in her room, she wasn’t on display, and she knew what was coming next. Here, his eyes burned over every inch of her while he teased her mercilessly.
Severus couldn’t forget the small trickle of liquid he’d gotten from her during their previous encounter. She would give him more this time.
“Do you want me to show you what your body can do?” he asked, stroking the spot along her front wall a little faster, his thumb still swiping over her engorged nub.
“Yes!” she practically shouted.
“Do as I tell you.”
She nodded, desperate for anything he could give her. His fingers pressed harder against the wall of her vagina as his hand rattled against her. The pressure rose to an uncomfortable level, and she suddenly needed the loo.
He hovered over her. “Do you feel that?”
Hermione looked at him. Does he know I’ve got to go?
The corner of his mouth twitched. “You don’t need the loo. I want you to try to push out my fingers.” He saw her hesitation. “Now.”
On his order, her inner muscles bore down. Something was close; she could scarcely breathe. Just when she thought she might pass out, the dam inside her burst, and her back arched off the table. Waves of bliss wracked her entire body.
“Yes,” he breathed as she shuddered and moaned.
The tempest ebbed away, leaving her dazed and limp. Hermione felt his fingers prodding her entrance. She’d only been dimly aware that he’d pulled them out as she came, focusing his talents on the bundle of nerves nestled at the apex of her sex. Once back inside, he curled against her front wall again. A strangled cry leapt from her mouth as her back leapt off the desk.
“Was that to your satisfaction, Miss Granger?”
“Yes, sir,” she panted, meeting his eyes with a blush. “Thank you.”
There was no reply, just a tiny smirk. He was teasing her again, circling her clit with his thumb then pulling away as the pleasure crested. Another orgasm was already growing, making her mind reel. She was still out of breath from the last one.
“You’ve made quite a mess of my desk, Miss Granger,” he chided.
Looking confused, she croaked back, “I did?”
“Have you never read about female ejaculation in all your extracurricular studies?”
His tone was mocking, but the words flew through Hermione’s head, making her dizzy. Actually, she had read about it; but she had assumed that, since she had never done it before, that it was just something some women did and some didn’t. The revelation of what her body could do floundered around in her brain, scrambling for purchase.
Severus felt the velvety wall of her channel swelling against his fingers and knew she was close. It was incredibly sexy when she came, and the power he felt was intoxicating. A large part of him wanted to humiliate and punish her, but another part was entranced by her responsiveness. He wanted to watch her come again and again, leaving her uptight goody-two-shoes attitude in a puddle at his feet. Witnessing her transformation from know-it-all to nymphomaniac was making him high.
The way he played her made Hermione mental. Sure fingers curled and stroked her g-spot like a maestro. Books (and some informative magazines Ginny had lent her) had led her to the general area, but it never felt like this with her own hand. His wide thumb kept perfect time over her clit then lifted away, getting softer and lighter each time it returned. Her panting gave way to whimpered moans.
“That’s it. You’re ready to come for me again, aren’t you? Come for me, Miss Granger. Let me feel your tight little pussy soaking my hand.”
His voice was dark heat in her ears, like honey sliding down her belly and pooling at her entrance. An inarticulate “unh” sprang from her lips as the ache crescendoed and covered her. White light exploded in her brain as a stream of liquid spilled from her folds and ran down between her cheeks. Snape was strumming her clit the whole time, slowing as she started to come down. Aftershocks left her twitching happily on his desk.
Severus watched the contended smile form on her lips. How sweet. She thinks I’m through with her. His fingers entered her again, and her eyes flew open, meeting his with a panicked stare.
“Please, sir. I can’t again,” she pleaded.
He raised an eyebrow. “I disagree.” The inner turmoil played out over her features. “Was this not what you requested?”
Hermione threw her arm over her face in frustration. “Please, sir. No more. I can't do it again!"
“I cautioned you about making deals with me the last time you were in this office. You obviously learned nothing.”
His fingers curled inside her again, and she muffled a whimper with her arm. Severus knew her body better than she did, and he knew what she did secretly all alone in her room at night. Desire left her thoughts open for perusal; he’d seen all kinds of interesting things over the past month. I know how to make you come again and quickly at that.
His free hand was no longer holding her lips apart. One finger brushed across her anus, and she froze, eyes opening wide behind her arm. For a brief moment she thought it had just been an accident, but the finger returned and rubbed at the tight entrance, dispelling any doubt. She stopped breathing, torn between terror and excitement. Her entire cleft was wet with juices, and when he applied a little more pressure, his fingertip sank into her bum. Oh God!
Severus watched her go completely still and grinned with triumph. Yes, you’re my dirty little Gryffindor, aren’t you? He went deeper; it was painfully tight inside. One wrong move and she’s going to snap off my finger. “Relax,” he murmured. “And breathe.”
Gasping in a flood of air, Hermione forced her buttocks to unclench. The more she relaxed, the deeper he went. His other hand rewarded her efforts, lightly teasing her clit whenever she fought the urge to tense, distracting her with pleasure. After several minutes he was buried completely inside her.
“Good girl,” he groaned softly.
Her pussy twitched at the praise and the heat in his voice. Blood rushed, loud and hot, in her ears. Sweet Circe! I’m ready to come again. Rolling her hips against his hand, she heard a muted growl and felt his thumb start sweeping back and forth over her clit. The finger in her bum stayed deep but wiggled against her soft walls. There were too many sensations happening at once for her to have any coherent thoughts.
“I know what you want . . . what you need,” he rumbled over her. “Don’t I?”
“Yes,” she gasped behind her elbow.
“Look at me.”
Hermione let her arm fall over her head and met his eye, embarrassment burning her face.
“You’ve dreamt about me fingering this tight little hole, haven’t you?” he demanded.
She opened her mouth to speak, but her tongue had gone on strike. Trapped under his intense gaze, she was unable to admit anything vocally. Snape’s eyebrows shot up in sudden understanding, and his mouth curled into a wicked grin.
“Oh, I see. That’s not all you’ve been dreaming about me putting in here.” He watched her eyes roll back, and the muscles in her sphincter tightened rhythmically around his finger as her body released another stream of liquid for him. The hoarseness of her cry was a symphony—the jerking spams of her body the greatest performance he’d witnessed in years.
“Lovely,” he whispered.
Hermione thought she heard him say something, but it was hard to hear over the pounding in her ears and her own guttural shouting.
Easing his finger from her puckered hole, Severus cleaned his hands with a quick spell. His back ached from bending over her for so long. With a tired sigh, he sank into his chair to watch her come down. She presented a delightful image of debauchery before him. He’d never be able to look at his desk again without seeing her sprawled there, half-naked, pussy glistening.
When her panting stopped, he stood and leaned over her. “Have you recovered, Miss Granger?”
“I think so, sir.”
He held out his hand and helped her to sit. Gripping her chin, he forced her eyes to meet his and purred, “Show me what you learned last time.”
Eyes wide with comprehension, scenes from their last episode flooded her brain. She wanted nothing more than to touch him and make him lose control, to repay the effort. With a small smile, she nodded and slid off the desk to kneel before him.
Severus almost groaned out loud at the sight. She did look delectable on her knees like that. “Good. But you’re wearing too much.”
Too much? He wants me naked? No one had seen her totally nude since she was about five. She was elated by his desire to see her, but frightened at the prospect of actually having him see her. Don’t be ridiculous, Hermione. He just wants you to take off your clothes. You do it every day. You can do it now.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she started with her shirt. It was falling off already and was hiding the least. The room felt colder as the garment landed on the floor. Hermione turned her back to him and unzipped her skirt, her fingers trembling. She finally managed to get it undone. When it fell to her feet, she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out reality for a minute. Just the bra. You’re almost there. It unhooked far too quickly, and she slid it down her arms, dropping it into the pile with the rest of her clothes. Naked, she huddled with her arms obscuring all they could.
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He’d just had his finger in her arse while she screamed out her orgasm on his desk, and now she was trying to hide herself like a firstie changing in front their dorm-mates. “Stop covering yourself.”
She didn’t want to upset him (and he sounded annoyed), so she let her arms fall to her sides and turned to face him. Hot and flushed, she stared at his feet, fighting the instinct to conceal herself.
“Better. Leave on the socks and shoes."
That’s a bit pervy, she thought. Shut up, Hermione, you love it.
“Come closer,” he said, sitting in his chair.
Walking to stand between his spread legs, she felt lightheaded. The shaking in her hands wouldn’t stop. He leaned forward, and she felt hot breath warm her right nipple. A shiver rattled through her. He was inches away from touching her. One large hand slid up to cup her right breast, and his lips closed over the peaked tip. The wet heat of his mouth made her knees go wobbly.
Pulling away, he took in her hooded eyes and slack jaw. He’d only wanted a taste to satisfy his curiosity. It was better than he’d imagined. I might need to make a habit of this. Her tits were a bloody marvel. So soft. He wanted to hear her gasp again. Latching on to the other breast, Snape rolled the pebbled nipple against his tongue. Another sharp breath, and she shuddered in his hands. He let go and was amused by her disappointed whimper. “Back on your knees, witch.” I could cut diamonds with this thing.
When he went to open his trousers, Hermione bent and touched his fingers tentatively. “Please . . . may I, sir?” she asked, sinking to her knees.
He nodded once. “Very well.”
Her hands were immediately all over him, running along the granite column of his flesh concealed by rough wool. The button and zip were undone with a reverence that made his cock weep. She pulled his boxers over his erection and just stared at it.
It was better than she remembered. Still red and angry looking, but all for her. Hermione wanted to worship at his altar (forever and ever amen). She wanted to taste him and make him moan. I need to see more of him. Now. He lifted his hips to help her as she pulled down his trousers and shorts, his swollen staff bouncing just inches away from her face. When his clothes were around his ankles, she ran her hands up his thighs and gave him an inquisitive look, asking his permission.
His eyes burned into hers. “Go on,” he rumbled.
Timid but determined, Hermione reached out and skimmed her fingertips over his shaft. Encircling him, she pumped once, her grip sure. When his breath hitched, she smiled. Her thumb glided over his engorged knob. So smooth. Like silk. Bowing her head, she rubbed the satin skin of the head across her cheek.
Severus growled softly, and his grip on the armrests tightened. A small patch of wetness shone on her skin, identifying the path of his sex over her face. She either didn’t know it was there or didn’t care; she made no move to wipe it away.
Bringing him to her lips, Hermione licked away the drop of pre-cum that had collected, groaning at the taste of hot, musky flesh searing her tongue. She wanted more, wanted to get drunk on him. Her tongue slid into the slitted tip, trying to get it all. She heard the muttered “fuck” above her but never noticed his knuckles going white.
As his glans disappeared into the warm, wet confines of her mouth, a hissed inhale whipped through his teeth. Minx. Luxuriating in the feel of her, he took note of her soft, naked body resting between his thighs, the small hand guiding his dick past her sweet, slick lips. The memory would undoubtedly be called upon later. Snape let her get reacquainted for a minute, her tongue mapping out every inch, charting the territory.
“Excellent,” he sighed. “Use your other hand on my balls.”
Fingers grazing his inner thigh, she cupped his testes, massaging them against her palm and rolling them around. She didn’t know what he liked, but she must have done something right, because she felt his hands shift to her head and start stroking her hair.
“Suck them.” He slid lower, giving her better access.
He sounded much more relaxed now, and Hermione smiled, kissing the dark sac before sucking one of his bollocks past her lips. His growly directives were making her wet again. It was slightly unpleasant having his pubic hair in her mouth, but his muttered string of curses made it worth it. She’d do it again (and again) just to hear him lose control.
Snape tightened his grip on her brown curls when she switched balls. So willing. Just like last time. A small wet pop sounded as she released him. He was about to tell her what to do next when he felt her lift his sac and dart her tongue beneath. Bloody hell. He snapped his mouth shut. If she wanted to shove her tongue under his balls he was going to damn well let her.
Hermione had read that some men enjoyed having their perineum stimulated and hoped he wouldn’t mind if she did some experimenting. His legs opened wider, and she took that as encouragement to continue. The angle wasn’t quite right, so she sank down lower and turned her head. Blimey, it’s dark under here. The only light came from the fire behind his chair, and she couldn't really see what she was doing. Where’s a simple Lumos when you need it? She wasn’t totally sure how far back she should go. How big is the perineum? Drawings are such rubbish. I need scale models. Pressing her tongue up a little harder, she curled it back and forth. Her hands assisted, trying to spread things out and get some more light on her subject. Engrossed in her task, Hermione didn’t notice that her professor was no longer whispering a litany of expletives.
He was barely breathing at all. His hands had abandoned her hair in favor of the chair, and he was seconds away from tearing off the arms. Her wet, questing muscle was millimeters from finding his arse; and some part of his body was overriding his brain’s commands to warn her. (He had several guesses as to which part might have seized power.) It was too much, too unexpected. He was losing control.
“Stop,” he choked out. “Fuck!”
Hermione pulled away, peering up at him as she bit her lower lip.
“Where the hell did you learn that?” he panted.
“Did I do it wrong? I read about it in a book.”
A chuckle bubbled up from his chest. Well, of course. He couldn't keep the smile off his face as he started to shake in silent laughter. The more he thought about it, the funnier it got. “Read what?” How to Eat your Professor’s Arse: A guide for beginners?
Smiling shyly, she answered, “Stimulating the perineum.”
The silent laughter took over him again. “You’ve succeeded beyond your wildest dreams.”
“If you didn’t like it, I won’t do it again.”
Snape beckoned her closer and held her face in his hands, stroking his thumbs along her soft skin. “I liked it immensely. However, it was, and still is, my desire to watch you swallow my seed tonight. Had you continued on your course, you would have spent the rest of the evening trying to get it all out of your hair.”
“Oh.” Triumph brightened her eyes.
Severus sat back and guided her face toward his throbbing prick. “Continue.”
Her tongue crept out, flicking around the underside as she took him in. Snape guided her head up and down until she got the rhythm. Leaning back, he watched her bushy brunette head bob up and down his length. The tension coiled in his pelvis. Relaxing into it, he distractedly played with her hair. The fire crackled and popped behind him, and he let his eyes fall closed. Her mouth was heavenly, a welcome respite from all the stress and tedium that filled his life. This was the most peaceful he’d been in ages. Well, a month at least. He’d gladly spend hours watching her devour his cock. Alas, she was new to this; her jaw would be cramping soon.
Another blessedly quiet minute passed. Beginning to thrust up into her mouth, he kept his movements small to avoid choking her. He’d save that for another night. One of her hands was wrapped around his shaft, twisting and squeezing, following her mouth. She expertly matched his hips' movements. Smart girl. “You’re my good little cock sucker, aren’t you?”
Unable to talk, she could only hum her agreement. “MmHm.”
“Yesss. Tell me how much you like it.” She praised his manhood the best she could with it stuffed in her mouth. The vibrations were perfection, buzzing through his skin straight to his balls. He wasn’t pushed over the edge, he fell willingly, letting the sensations overtake him. Sweet release.
“Swallow it all,” he rumbled before erupting in her eager mouth.
Warm cream coated the back of her throat and tongue. She swallowed it quickly. His feral grunting was making her pussy clench. When he went boneless against the chair, she stopped swallowing and gently released him, peeking up at his face. A soft smile lit the corners of his mouth. He looked so peaceful; she didn’t want to disturb him.
Knees screaming from kneeling on the hard stones, she leaned back to sit on the floor. Her burning bum quickly reminded her how this had all started. Easing over to sit on her hip, she tried to twist around and assess the damage.
He snickered from the chair. “I can heal that if you’d like.”
“No!” Hermione looked horrified at his suggestion. “I fancy it,” she added quietly.
Shaking his head with a small smile, he leaned down to pull up his trousers. Her gaze followed his every move, and he could feel her eyes on his crotch as he packed it all in. Meeting her stare, he smirked, “Bloody hell, girl. You can’t possibly want more.”
Looking away, she blushed, affirming that that was, indeed, what she wanted.
“I have an assignment for you,” he said and saw her face light up. Standing, he walked to the door that went to his private rooms. “Start getting dressed.”
Her smile fell. It’s over?
“No knickers,” he added over his shoulder as he opened the door.
She didn’t know what to make of that, but it sounded hopeful. Standing up, she looked around to find her clothes and started dressing. He came back while she was standing in her skirt and bra, two books in his hands.
He waited for her to get her shirt buttoned. “Come here,” he said, sitting back down in his chair.
Eyeing the books as though they were a display of candy at Honeydukes, she stood before him.
“Next Friday you are to be here at 9:30 sharp. I expect you to read both these books in their entirety by then. The first one is just a general overview of sexual practices,” he said, indicating the top book. “Read it first. The other is on sex magic.”
That got her attention. Everyone knew sex magic was dark magic.
“Don’t make any assumptions until you’ve read it,” he warned. “You are not to climax until the next time we meet.”
Hermione’s eyes widened. “But that’s five days!”
One eyebrow rose. “I am aware, Miss Granger. Your education has clearly been a success.” He studied her. “It’s your choice. But if you wish to continue this, then you will follow my rules.”
A sigh of resignation huffed out. It had all been her idea, how could she argue? “What if I come in my sleep?”
He sat back and thought about that for a few seconds. “I will punish you and you will not enjoy it. If you think that’s a strong possibility, I would recommend some Dreamless Sleep.
Damn him. I should have kept my mouth shut.
“Bend over the desk.”
Hermione had thought he was going to kick her out, so this was a promising turn of events. Please make me come again. He flipped up her skirt, and she felt him rubbing her bum before spreading her cheeks apart. Something cold and wet was applied to her anus, and she jumped in surprise.
“Stay still,” he said. “This won’t hurt.”
Something pressed into her hole, and Hermione tried to relax.
“I’m inserting a small anal plug.”
She tensed.
“It’s nothing you can’t handle,” he said soothingly. “No bigger than my finger.” A little white lie to ease the way. With lazy patience, he fucked her with the plug, waiting for her to relax. It was slow going, but eventually the widest part slid past her anal ring and settled into place. She was panting when he finished. “Good girl. I want you to insert it every night and remove it in the morning. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Use lube.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He smiled and patted her bottom. “Get back to your room.”
What? She was practically dripping on the floor. “Please, sir. I’m so close.”
“Hmm. What a pity. I distinctly remember you saying, ‘no more.’ I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until Friday. Next time, I suggest you choose your words more carefully. As long as you’re coming to me like this, I will be in control of your pleasure.”
Damn him. “Yes, sir,” she forced through clenched teeth.
She stood haltingly, trying to get used to the feeling of moving around with something lodged in her backside. It was weird and uncomfortable but also strangely erotic. She walked carefully to the door. By the time Hermione touched the handle, she knew five days was going to feel like an eternity.
“Miss Granger,” he called out.
She turned.
“You’ve forgotten your books.”
He was leering at her. Bastard. With stuttering steps, Hermione made it back to his desk, glaring at him when she got there.
Snape barely contained a bark of laughter at her furious look. Her attempted defiance was undermined by the size of her dilated pupils and the lust-fueled tinge to her cheeks.
“Sweet dreams, Miss Granger,” he said with his most wicked smile.
She huffed and turned away, learning very quickly that it was impossible to make a dramatic exit with a plug shoved up your bum. Sneaky bastard.
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Teaching Miss Granger