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"Unanswered Prayers"	By : T-W-O Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 26252 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own HP, nor the characters from it. I don't make squat from the writing of this story. I do lose sleep, tho'...

Chapter List
- 1-"Unanswered Prayers"
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9a
- 10-9b
- 11-9c
- 12-10
- 13-11a
- 14-11b
- 15-11c
- 16-11d
- 17-11e
- 18-11f
- 19-11g
- 20-12
- 21-13
- 22-14
- 23-15
- 24-16
- 25-17
- 26-18
- 27-19
- 28-20
- 25
- 26
- 27
Leaning in, Severus found her lips as she rested on the couch and drove her backwards into the cushions with gentle pressure from his own.
“Mmmm…”
Her moan vibrated through his lips and settled as a hum at the base of his member, forcing blood into an already crowded space.
“Hermoine…”
“I’m ready…” she announced into the kiss, encircling his waist with her legs.
“You married an older wizard —”
“Take me to bed, husband.”
“Well! When you put it like that —”
Bracing himself against the back of the sofa with his arms, he pushed off to an upright position, lifting her with him. Soaked knickers rubbed against an erection straining to be released from his thigh-length boxers. Tightening her legs eliminated the non-existent gap between them, pressing his trapped member between the flesh over her most sensitive area — hidden behind the crotch of those knickers.
Making room by relaxing her legs, she reached between them and inside his boxers to stroke his eager, hardened flesh. Lazy fingertips rode up and down the protruding vein as far as she could reach.
“You are being naughty, Hermione.”
“If you’ll hurry up, I’ll help you with this.” she teased.
She’d never been free to learn, to explore, with Ron and the feel of Severus on her fingertips and in her hand sent jolts of tingling into her erogenous zones; so did the suckling and nipping of a very interested mouth at her breast. He’d denied her full access until this night, insisting that their first time together should consecrate his lifetime commitment to her. Her head rolled back, eyes closing to block out any sensory inputs not coming from her husband.
She smiled wickedly; she’d gladly take a lifetime of his attentions if this was the prelude.
“Ah!” she yipped as he nuzzled her breast and worried at her nipple for the first time ever.
“Sev, I’m going to-to-to —”
“To release?” he teased into a mouthful of breast, “To explode? To dissipate? To die?”
Grasping his erection tighter she stroked him with the hand buried in his shorts, squeezing his prominent head to milk fluid from him for lubrication. He moaned this time.
“Let me finish with you before we both topple over, witch.”
“Close.. ‘m close…”
Frustrated at the eternal edge she couldn’t get over, Hermione twisted her hand around and applied back-and-forth touches to her own flower-like flesh as he walked them to the bed. Pleasant as the sensations were, they only aggravated her state of arousal; release would not arrive from her own efforts.
“Sev, please… Wanna come…”
Whinging with desire distracted her when he laid her down, her hips at the edge of the bed.
“You are so beautiful…”
Rucking the sheer fabric of her camisole over her sensitized nipples caused stars to explode behind her closed eyelids.
“Let me take care of that for you, Mrs. Snape.”
“Yes. Now. Please.”
The effort to lift her hips slightly as she braced herself for his entrance completely — knees bent and feet pressed flat against their marital bed — distracted her; his mouth parted the skin covering her tender flower and his tongue laved its roughened surface against her petals of swollen flesh. Severus knelt on the floor, his head perfectly placed at the triangle of arousal between her thighs.
“I’m-I’m-I’m…” she keened incoherently.
Another long, languorous lap ran from the entrance of her secret garden to the tip of her special flower. Her groom secured her near his mouth, his arms snaked around her cute bum with hands anchored at the juncture of her thighs and hips. Unable to move away, Hermione twisted and thrashed under an oral onslaught so intense she feared passing out from sensory overload before achieving orgasm. Somewhere in the back of her formerly rational mind she’d eventually remember that she’d never experienced orgasm with Ron, just pain and pregnancy. In the moment, she held on and awaited the explosion Severus’ mouth would initiate very soon.
“SEV! OH, MERLIN! WHAT THE???—, I’M—, I’M COMING!”
Pressure so intense it brought tears to her eyes built with every brush of his tongue, controlled her until blessedly — finally — something wonderful and powerful and consuming took her to a place called “Bliss”.
And kept her there — his mouth instigating more reactions so intense the pleasure bordered on painful.
“Sev, PLEASE!” she pleaded, unable to twist out of his iron grip, ”Too much! I can’t…!”
When bliss arrived again, Hermione learned two things: that she could enjoy multiple orgasms and that her husband had talents they’d spend a lifetime exploring together.
“Sev,” she panted, “I want… Inside me… Please…”
Silently he kissed his way up both thighs, scraping her juices from his face on the supple skin inside her thighs. So close to the location of continuing pleasure, her muscles rippled as his cheeks and chin moved from side to side. Two quick swipes of her bundle by his tongue lit the pilot light between her legs once more.
“Don’t tease.”
“As you wish.”
Standing again, he murmured a charm and reconfigured the mattress underneath her. A small body-width wedge of mattress rose, lifting and cradling her hips while tilting her entrance upward for her greater pleasure to come. Kissing his way up her body, he fisted his very ready hard-on and smeared the head up and down her bud of layered flesh to prepare her for his entrance. Fluids mingled, her increasing lubrication overpowering his own release of preparatory fluids.
When his lips arrived at hers he tilted his shaft to the center of her opening and leaned in to penetrate her with tender restraint.
His measured descent provoked a moan from both. The Engorgio spell broadened and thickened him comfortably within her, filling her without discomfort. His lower head scraped her g-spot, causing Hermione to arch her back off the bed in a way that put more pressure on that wonderland of sensation.
“Merlin, Severus, that feels so good… so good!”
Methodically he pierced her and withdrew with agonizing control, determined to make the experience different from anything she’d endured with Weasel and so pleasurable she would seek him out over and over again during their honeymoon. So far he had Hermione thrashing, aching, moaning and responding — her hips found his rhythm and met him in synch without fumbling or banging.
Absent the need to hold himself over her — thanks to his standing position between her legs, he could roll his hips as he penetrated to change his angle within her and bring forth new and satisfying sensations for them both. He made a mental note to congratulate himself — when he could think again — for selecting this position.
Freed from supporting his weight, his hands skirted over the skin of her chest — but not her breast, not yet — her flat stomach that would one day soften with a roundness they’d create together, her sides and shoulders where too hard a touch reddened and pained skin that retained the memory of torture, her lips that his finger traced and she sucked on spontaneously and her thighs wrapped tightly around his own to keep him buried deep enough to touch her spine with every forward descent of his manhood within her.
“Sev — harder, please!”
“Woman, you will be the death of me!”
Whether because it announced the end of his time inside her or because she began to respond to the stimulation, Hermione’s minuscule enjoyment in her encounters with Ron had always been those final moments before his release. The quick, desperate, increasingly ragged strokes always brought her to the edge; Ron’s selfishness left her there, unsatisfied, every time. Right this minute, based on her limited data, she understood that her release depended completely and totally on Severus’. He’d have to get a lot closer to get her off.
“Need you to come, Sev…”
“I want to pleasure you.” he begged, concerned that she felt an obligation to satisfy him and not herself.
“’s not coming,” she whinged in frustration for her first real orgasm from intercourse, “Make it come, please Sev…”
That request by his willing wife ripped the last vestiges of control and patience from his actions.
Faster strokes punctuated by grunts satisfied her need for “more”. With her legs locked at the ankle behind his thighs, Severus was forced to keep his thrusts short and sweet, to her liking. Thanks to the mattress wedge, her new partner hit every pleasurable spot inside of her. His pelvic bone slid over her flower with each stroke. Frozen in place by her legs, his head inside her rubbed her g-spot over and over. And there was the sheer joy — rising by the second — of being impaled repeatedly by a plump, pulsating piston that tantalized every inch of her straight to her swollen cervix.
“Gryffendor, Gryffindor…”
Repetition of his nickname for her would become the signal that he had about five good moves left before he dropped a load inside her. Sure enough, his message got through and she detonated, squeezing him so tight the head of him throbbed.
“MERLIN! SEV — I’M-I’M-I’M…” and she toppled into release.
And he fell with her.
“SWEET MERLIN’S BALLS, GRYFFINDOR!”
The Engorgio spell filled his sac beyond its previous known capacity, a side-effect Harry hadn’t mentioned when they’d discussed how to compensate for being an old wizard married to a young witch. Severus groaned with each thrust as he tried to relieve the pleasure-pain of too much semen traveling down too small tube. Each spurt inside his wife stimulated the build-up of more seed within him. His sensory threshold screamed at him to stay on the "pleasure" side of that divider. Severus obeyed by continuing to pump and empty himself into her.
Relief from his prolonged effort came with each squirt, made easier by the grip of her vice-like sheath around him. As the end seemed near, Severus felt swelling again and the imperative of impending ejaculation.
“Gryffindor — what are you???…”
“Shhh… Enjoy.”
Hermione had snaked her arm between them again. Her index finger and thumb ringed the base of him to milk every drop of seed, having the surprising effect of bringing him to climax once more — thanks to Engorgio.
“I’m yours, Sev…”
Severus fell forward onto his arms, hunched over her, while her efforts quickly yanked another orgasm from him on the heels of the last. His wife had reduced him, in short order, to a thrusting mass of sexual need trying to empty testicles that seemed to hold infinite — and increasing — amounts of his seed.
“Let me take care of you…” she cooed as one hand continued to milk more from him than he thought achievable while the other stroked his back and side.
What seemed like hours later, the intense pressure of sustained ecstasy subsided in his sac and he dropped next to her in sheer exhaustion. The mattress returned itself to it normal configuration and, after a bit of scooting and readjustment, Mr’ and Mrs Severus Snape found themselves under light covers, in each other’s arms and fast asleep.
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- 27
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"Unanswered Prayers"