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Getting Personal	By : OracleObscured Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 38186 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 5
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
- 5
- 6
- 7
A/N: One chapter a week is definitely more my speed. I did get a head start on the next two so I wouldn't be swamped this coming week. Seven and eight are a lot lighter in tone if this chapter is getting too heavy for you. See you all next Thursday with two new chapters.
lunarose, irish_angel, Severus1Snape, iloveHGDM: Thank you for taking the time to review. I appreciate it. I hope you all like what's to come.
BellaPrincipessa: They have talked about safe words. The very first time they met at the hotel he told her to pick one (Quaffle). He also mentioned it again when they met at The Leaky Cauldron. And he told her to simply tell him if she was becoming too upset, that he wasn't there to cause her mental or emotional damage. But you are right, she does know that she can safe word out of a scene if it becomes too intense. I hadn't considered the juxtaposition of the house-elf's abuse and BDSM (I was focused mainly on the psychological similarities between Hermione and Barnabas: self-blame/hatred, berating oneself because of perceived failures, seeking physical punishment to alleviate a sense of guilt, unwillingness to let go of pain/past, feelings of unworthiness, crying, depression, etc.), but I liked your analysis. Overall, I tend to process ideas by their similarities rather than their contrasts. I should work on that; it would improve my writing. I do occasionally use juxtaposition, but it's usually more subconscious rather than intentional.

Again, thank you for the reviews; I like to hear what everyone's thinking, and you help me see what I've written through fresh eyes. Hope you enjoy the coming chapter.

6 — I’m Only Human

Severus sat down to dinner in the Great Hall. The dungeons still reeked of scorched mistletoe berries, but even that awful stink couldn't ruin his mood. He hadn’t had time to shower when he got back that morning, so the lingering scent of her still clung to his body. Every time he took a piss, he could smell her wafting up from his prick. He’d never been so eager to visit the loo in all his life. The repeated reminders throughout the day left him in a fine frame of mind. He still scared the hell of of most of the students, but he did so with a spring in his step.
Minerva strolled in and took her usual seat beside him, looking him up and down over the rim of her spectacles. “Good evening, Severus. You’re looking chipper today.” Her smile dropped. “You didn’t make someone wet themselves again, did you?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Not today.”
Minerva spread her napkin over her lap and studied him from the corner of her eye as she served herself. “Did you finish your business outside the castle?”
“I did. And I know you know exactly what time I returned this morning.”
Her puckered mouth pulled into a smile. “Do you mind me asking who she is?”
Severus kept his eyes on his food. Damn nosy Gryffindors. “What makes you think it’s a woman?”
“Oh honestly,” Minerva scoffed. “You stay out all night, barely making it back in time for class, and you look entirely too pleased with yourself. It’s rather obvious.”
Severus said nothing, neither confirming nor denying her accusation.
Minerva gave him a knowing nod. “So it is someone I know. I’m happy for you, Severus. It’s good to see you getting out.”
He doubted she’d still be saying that if she knew he was shutping her favorite Gryffindor.
The night post flew overhead, and Minerva’s lips twitched with barely contained mirth. “I believe that’s for you.”
“What’s for me?”
She nodded at the bird above his head, and he looked up just in time to see a letter descending toward his face. Snatching it out of midair, he flipped it open and scanned it quickly to make sure she was all right. She’d signed it Missing your cock, Hermione, so he surmised she was safe. Refolding the letter, he tucked it into his robes to read later.
Minerva could scarcely keep a straight face. “Severus Snape, you’re not just meeting some witch, you’re seeing someone seriously.”
He didn’t acknowledge her assertion, he just hid his smile behind his goblet. His reputation would be ruined if the students (or teachers) saw him without his usual sneer.

__ __ __ __ __ __ __
He waited until he was in the tub before he allowed himself to indulge in her letter. He needed to pace the good things in his life.
Dear Severus,
I'm home a bit earlier than usual. We searched for Barnabas most of the day, but there still aren't any leads. I'm so worried about him. I wish we had enough people to have someone staked outside his old house to keep an eye on things. He must be trying to go back there. Or maybe he already is there. The owner says he's not, but why would I believe such a man? I hate to think what might be happening if he's in there.
I ate lunch with my therapist this afternoon. I told her what you said about my cleanliness compulsion. She made me tell her all about you, and she seemed both amused and concerned by our relationship. She finally said that she didn't think what we were doing was necessarily unhealthy, especially if it was making me feel better. She said sometimes you need a physical element to unblock yourself. Then she asked me if you physically and emotionally calmed me down afterward or if you just shagged me and left. I told her you usually hold me until I calm down and then shag me and then hold me again. She seemed to think that was a satisfactory itinerary. She said the same thing about my cleaning that you did: that I'm trying to find some control in my life in whatever way I can. She said the first thing to do is start recognizing those actions. So when I feel like refolding everything, I just need to be aware of the impulse and identify what happened to lead up to that point. She said not to judge my actions, just to observe them for now. She said if I wanted, I could try messing up some things and seeing how I felt about it (and that it was okay if I had to fix it again). She was very much in favor of my new sleeping habits, and she said I looked much better than I did last time I saw her. So it all went pretty well.
My bum was nice and warm today. I know it was supposed to remind me not to be so obsessive, but mostly I just thought about you shagging me last night. I'm not really sore today or anything, but my pussy feels worn out. In a good way. I don't know if I can separate your "corrections" from the sex anymore. Is that wrong, or is that what you wanted to happen? Obviously, thinking about spanking turns me on or I never would have placed that ad, but I don't know if it's a punishment if I want it this much. Won't that just make me act out so I can get over your lap again?
I'm eating dinner with Crookshanks right now. When I'm done, I'll take my bath and probably finish reading those books you sent me. I want to spend as much time as possible lying over my pillows imagining you spanking me.
I've been thinking about your cock all day. I wanted to taste you so much this morning. Next time we meet, I'm going to give you the works. So you'd better plan an extra hour into the night for me to test out a few ideas. The only thing I can't decide is how to finish you off. If I swallow, I can't watch; but if I watch, I won't feel you throbbing in my throat. Decisions, decisions. Will you touch yourself for me tonight? I wonder if we’re ever doing it at the same time. I'm already getting wet, and I'm not even done with my green beans yet. This is going to be a long night.
Missing your cock,

Hermione
__ __ __ __ __ __ __
Hermione,
You certainly know how to take the edge off the end of my day. Peeves coated all my cauldrons in ink (he said they weren't black enough), so I needed some good news after spending an hour cleaning them after dinner.
Minerva has already deduced that I'm seeing someone. She can speculate all she likes; if she thinks I'm going to spill the details of my private life like some simpering schoolgirl, she's got another thing coming. I have no intention of revealing your identity, but I might need her cooperation if I'm going to see you on the weekends. It's times like these that I hate working here (and having overly-perceptive coworkers). I feel as though I'm seventeen and asking permission to go on a date.
I am relieved you saw your therapist and that she doesn't object to our arrangement. I want you to follow her suggestions to the best of your ability. I'm going to add that if you get the urge to obsessively organize, you should owl me straight away. If you have a bad day, tell me. You can't clean away your stress. You have to deal with the actual issue at hand. There are things you need when you're tense, and alphabetizing your canned goods isn't going to meet those needs. I'll say this again, as long as you're honest and tell me what you need, I'll help you in whatever way I can.
In answer to your concerns about the effectiveness of my punishments, I have very specific reasons for doing the things I do with you. I have absolutely no worries that you will one day start acting out only to get yourself over my knee. You hate doing things wrong. And you know that if you want a spanking for no reason, all you have to do is ask and it will be given. You don't enjoy sparking my ire, so there's absolutely no reason for me to be harsh with you. The corrections serve many purposes: they force you to let go and allow you to relax, they focus your mind in the present, they shift the burden of decision-making from your shoulders to mine, they open your mind to change, they alleviate your guilt, they remind you that someone is looking out for you, and they make it (painfully) clear that you are not alone. There is more to it, but I think you can see that the reasons you crave my correction go beyond the physical.
Having your naked bottom thrust in the air and having my hands all over it is bound to cause some sexual associations in your brain. I simply use your involuntary response to solidify your correction with orgasmic release. You have never been seriously punished by me, and I doubt you would enjoy it. It isn't the pain that excites you, it's the chance to be free, to be taken care of. Your therapist is right about the physical unblocking the mental. I'm offering you a controlled physical stress, one where you are in a safe environment. It always culminates in victory for you (both physically and emotionally). The stress ends, and I help you recover. You calm back down and come full circle to normalcy .
The sex we have is just a bonus. It is a common pleasure between two people who share similar tastes. And in the spirit of honesty, I'll admit that it makes me feel better too.
I knew what you were trying to do this morning. Don't be fooled into thinking I'm as easily coerced as your past lovers. When someone sucks my dick, I want to enjoy it, not spend the whole time worrying if I'm going to be late. I wanted you to keep going more than I can convey in a letter.
As a matter of fact, you'd be quite welcome in that position right now. I've been hard ever since I read your letter in the bath. I'll get in bed and have a nice slow wank in your honor. The next time we're alone, I'll give you ample time to show me what you can do. Have those books I sent you inspired your imagination? I don't mind being a test subject for any oral experiments you have in mind. Anything to further your education.
Thinking of you (naked),

Severus

__ __ __ __ __ __ __
Dear Severus,
You're putting way more thought into this than I am. How do you know so much about all this? I don't want this to sound mean, but since when have you been such a bastion of mental health? What happened to you after the war? I mean I'm certainly grateful, and I adore being with you; I just don't know what to expect from you next. How can you be so bloody calm with me? It’s like you went from being the coldest man I've ever met to being the one person who cares for me the most. I feel as if I was sucked through a wormhole and came out in another dimension where everything I know is wrong side up and turned around backward.
But at the same time, it's all perfect. You do just what you say you will, and you make me feel safe (plus you're sexy as hell and make me come like no one else I've ever been with). I think about you all the time. Not just the sex. Sometimes I just think about seeing you or getting a letter from you. Sometimes I wonder what you're doing. Today I got upset about Barnabas still being missing, and I went to the loo and started to cry. Then I thought about you sitting on the couch with me the other night and felt a bit better. I'm worried I'm getting too attached. Is this how I'm supposed to feel?
I'm scared you're going to suddenly decide to leave me. I think you already know why that scares me so much. I love my job, but you're the only thing in my life that I really look forward to. You told me to be honest with you. Is this what you meant, or have I just made everything awkward and uncomfortable for you?
I think I'm becoming addicted to the spankings. Or maybe it's the way I feel afterward. When you correct me, do you feel the the opposite/corresponding things I do? Like, does spanking me make you feel more in control? Does it make you feel good? Is it a job, or is it recreation? Does it calm you down?
My brain won't turn off (and I'm sure once I owl this letter I'll be even more anxious). I don't want to ruin things with you, but I'm so confused now.
I'm going to go bend over my pillows until I feel better.
In bed early,

Hermione

__ __ __ __ __ __ __
Hermione,
I had to wait until after classes today to write this reply so I could properly concentrate and respond. I didn't mean to make you worry any longer than necessary with the delay. Please rest assured that there is nothing wrong with what you are feeling. While what we are doing is a bit off the beaten track when it comes to dom/sub relationships, it is what works for us; and that is the only guideline I intend to follow.
How do I know so much about all this? Experience. Nothing really happened to me after the final battle, except I lived. I wasn't just knocking at death’s door, I was sitting in his parlor having tea. To come back after that changed me in ways I wasn't prepared for. It was the first time I wasn't under someone else's control. It was finally my life, and in many ways I wasn't all that happy with it. I don't pretend to be an expert on life, but I have seen enough to know what to expect.
I can be calm with you because you allow me to be. I never have to be on guard around you because I know what kind of woman you are. Manipulation and deception are foreign concepts to you. Your thoughtfulness precludes any cruelty. There is still some residual mistrust in the back of my mind, but it quiets a little each time we meet. When I saw you that day at the Leaky Cauldron, it took a conscious effort to let go of the past and see you as the witch with whom I had been corresponding and not the swot who used to drive me up the wall. But you saw who I could be rather than who I used to be. That's not an opportunity I'm offered every day.
I have absolutely no intentions of abandoning you. If there ever comes a time when you no longer want my help, we will work that out amicably. But for now this arrangement benefits us equally. It is healthiest for us both to just enjoy the moment. We can deal with whatever the future brings when it happens. I find a great deal of peace in our meetings. Like you, I don't want that taken away. This is my outlet as much as it is yours.
When I spank you, I do usually feel calm. All my focus in on you: your reactions, your emotions, the color of your bum, etc. I don't have to think about work or life. It's the only time my brain isn't divided into multiple tasks. It isn't really a job or recreation, but I do like to do it well, and it is pleasurable. I enjoy aspects of it (watching your red bum jiggle is hypnotic), but mostly I'm so engrossed in the process it becomes less analytical and more intuitive. Do you remember what I said about following life's flow or fighting it? When I'm with you, I'm following it.
I think your anxiety about Barnabas is bleeding into the other areas of your life. I can't make you not worry, but I can assure you that you have nothing to fear when it comes to our involvement. My goal with you is to put a damper on the distress. And this is exactly what I meant by being honest. You are not ruining anything. I can't set your mind at ease if I don't know what's eating at you.
I'd like you to expand your nightly visualization. I want you to think about something we've done that makes you feel safe and calm. If it's spanking, that's fine. If it's sex, that's fine. If it's sitting in my lap, that's fine. Its totally up to you (and I would like to know what you choose). Breathe deeply and slowly. If you get upset at work again, do the same thing. Tell me how it makes you feel.
Write to me as soon as you get this (unless it's time to go to bed). I want to know you're all right.
Be good,

Severus

__ __ __ __ __ __ __
Dear Severus,
I fell asleep earlier than expected last night, so I'm writing you from work. Herbert is getting us some Polyjuice so we can spy on Barnabas's house.
I felt much better after I got your letter last night. I cried for a bit (not bad crying, just relief) then I took a bath and did what you asked me to do. I thought about sitting on the couch with you stroking my hair. It didn't make me horny the way thinking about spanking does, but it did make me really relaxed. I must have been extra tired, because I fell asleep super early. I had a dream about you kissing me in the middle of an intersection (it must not have been a busy street—there weren't any cars). That's all I really remember.
You are so different than you used to be. I wish you would show everyone what you can really be like. I'm glad you're not scared off by my feelings (I know there're a lot of them). I put on a show for other people too. I don't want them to worry about me; they have their own problems. But I guess you need to know everything if you're going to help me.
Does being with me really make you feel better? I'm glad if it does. I want to give you back some of the peace and happiness you've given me. I know how much effort you're putting into this, and I feel a bit selfish that I want even more of you. I want to see you right now. And later tonight. And at dinner. And in my shower. And in my bed. And when I wake up. Crooks is a fine companion, but cats can't hug you. Can you come over on Friday? I'd really like it if you stayed the whole weekend. I don't want you to think I'm just after your cock; we could just spend time together. But if you do want to spend all weekend in my bed, I wouldn't object.
Herbert is back. I'll write you tonight when I get home.
I miss you,

Hermione

__ __ __ __ __ __ __
Dear Hermione,
I'm glad you're calmer and that you slept more. Only one more class to go, so hopefully I will remain unscathed. I don't see how I could be injured if they're just reading the chapter, but I won't put anything past them.
Just to make it clear, I do NOT want to show anyone else this side of myself. You are the exception. I have very little concerns about you using my emotions against me, but the world as a whole has not earned that trust. Not everyone is as scrupulous as you.
Your feelings do not scare me. They allow me to see how alike we are. You can tell me anything. I doubt you're thinking anything that would surprise me. I don't mean you're predictable or common, it's just that you're an open book and words aren't always necessary. You should see your face when I'm inside you. There's a running ticker across your forehead broadcasting your every thought.
Yes, I'll come over Friday and, yes, I'll stay. Two more bloody days. I hope I survive. Thursdays are first-years and seventh-years. They're diametrically opposed but equally likely to blow something up.
I'll see if I can get someone to cover my shifts this weekend.
Friday can't come soon enough,

Severus

__ __ __ __ __ __ __
Dear Severus,
Our stakeout didn't get us anywhere. No sign of Barnabas. I spent the day in the body of a thirty-seven-year-old maintenance man who works at the Ministry. Polyjuicing into wizards is so bloody weird. I don't know how you function with your dick constantly rubbing against everything. Using the loo was like a carnival game. I just gave up and sat down. Don't tell anybody, but I wanked in the toilets at the park. I just wanted to see what it was like. It didn't take much time, and it did give me a some new ideas about what I should do to you. I don't think I'm ever going to be able to look that maintenance man in the eye again after the way I used his body like that. I bet he never considered the idea that a witch might be the one turning into him and that she'd know what his bits looked like afterward. (I'm positive he never thought about what else I did.)
I can't wait to see you Friday. I bought something on my way home today. It's a little leather paddle. There's a boutique close by where I bought my other toys. I liked when you used the slipper on me. I thought maybe this would be the same but a little rougher. I'm going to test it on myself tonight just to see how it feels. When you come over on Friday you can "correct" me for whatever reason you like. I haven't done anything wrong, but I'm sure you can think of something.
Miss you,

Hermione

__ __ __ __ __ __ __
Miss Granger,
I'm surprised at you—wanking in the loos in a borrowed body. Your curiosity is understandable, but that was extremely inappropriate. I've never "Polyjuiced" myself into a woman, so I can't comment on the oddity of the sensation. However, if the tables were turned, I doubt you would want some stranger handling your goods. That was very naughty.
Okay, I have to admit, you got a laugh out of me. And I suppose your inappropriate touching wasn't for naught if I'm to benefit from it. But I think you've given me ample reason to put you over my knee this weekend. Maybe I need to show you how I punish little girls who don't demonstrate sound judgment.
Or maybe a week is too long for you to go between sessions. It's a good thing I'll have extra time with you this weekend. Somebody's going to be sleeping on her stomach when I'm through with her.
I have to go to bed. Tell me about your experiment with the paddle tomorrow.
Be good (I mean it this time),

Severus

__ __ __ __ __ __ __
Severus talked Sinistra into switching shifts with him on the weekend. He didn't mind taking the Monday night curfew patrol. He'd have the whole weekend open if Hermione was serious about seeing him all that time. Neither his first or seventh-years had caused any mayhem that day, so he was in a decent mood as he made his way to the Great Hall for dinner. Tomorrow was Friday, and he couldn't wait for an entire weekend of freedom.
Taking his seat next to Minerva, he nodded at her greeting. He couldn't shake the feeling that she was still eyeing him and conjecturing about his private life. She's probably wondering what kind of witch would put up with me.
They’d made it through most of the meal in companionable silence when she nudged his elbow and gestured toward the ceiling. Hermione's crested owl swooped over his head and dropped a small scroll into his lap. That bird's accuracy was disturbingly precise. The scroll was too tiny to be a letter. He unrolled it and winced.
Barnabas is dead. Please come over.
"I need to leave," Severus said quietly.
Minerva's amusement vanished instantly. "What? For how long?"
"Maybe all night. I'll be back tomorrow."
"Do you have duties tonight?"
"Dungeon patrol from 11:00 to 11:30."
She scrutinized him, sizing up his mood. "This witch had better be worth it, Severus. I can't just keep pawning off your duties on everyone else."
He nodded once and rose to leave. "I'll take whatever they want to switch with me as long as it's not on the weekend."
"All weekend?"
Snape gave her a dark look. "Don't start with me."
Sighing, she nodded. "I'll find someone. We'll discuss it later."
He went to his room for his cloak and got out of there as fast as possible.

__ __ __ __ __ __ __
Wrapping his knuckles against the door, Snape felt a strange sense of deja vu. Hadn't it just been a week ago that he'd come over because Barnabas was missing? This would devastate her. All those hopes she’d pinned on saving Barnabas had been dashed in one fell swoop.
She opened the door, and his gut twinged when he saw the sorrow streaking her face with wet tears. She was in her maroon bathrobe, her hair pulled up in a messy ponytail atop her head. He’d never noticed how lovely her neck was before.
She took his hand and pulled him inside. Severus shrugged off his cloak and let her lead him to the couch. Expecting her to curl into his lap, he was surprised when she started to unknot her sash.
“Please, sir. I need a spanking on my bare bottom,” Hermione said, sniffling.
Severus put his hands over hers, stopping her from disrobing. “No, Miss Granger,” he said softly, closing her lapels. “A spanking is not what you need right now.”
"Yes, it is!" she protested, her voice louder than intended. The tears came faster, and she angrily wiped her face. "Long and hard. Please hurt me, sir."
Severus heard the panic in her voice. She was about to snap. “You do not deserve a long, hard spanking. I will not be party to your self-destructive fancies." He wrapped his hands around her waist. "I know you're angry, and that's a perfectly valid way to feel; but punishment is for correcting behavior. There is nothing in your behavior that needs changing, because you did absolutely nothing wrong." He pulled her into him, urging her to sit in his lap. “Come here and tell me what happened.”
Hermione wanted to pound the walls with her fists and scream at him until he beat her arse to a pulp. But he was making that impossible. His arms wrapped around her, trapping her against him. Her jittery anger cracked under his warmth, spilling out the hysterical sobs hidden behind her thin veneer of sanity. She was broken. Her heart was broken. Everything was broken.
Snape gathered her up closer, pressing her head against his shoulder, hugging her tightly. “It’s all right,” he whispered into her hair. “Get it all out.”
She did. And then some. She was scared she was never going to stop. The more he stroked her back, the more she cried. The grief was eating a hole in her belly. She’d failed Barnabas. He was dead because she couldn’t save him. This was all her fault.
When she seemed to be tiring and her tears slowed, Severus moved one hand to her head to stroke her hair. If this was what calmed her most, he’d do it until sunrise. He didn’t want her to cry, but he didn’t want her suppressing her emotions any more than she already did. She couldn’t hide from the sadness. She had to feel it. Once it had had its way with her, he would help her piece herself back together.
“Let me clean off your face,” he murmured, digging through his robes for his wand.
She refused.
Snape nudged her chin with his fingers. “Don’t be ridiculous. Look at me. You can’t even breathe. Let me help you.”
“Don’t look at me. I’m ugly.” She cringed, hiding in his shoulder.
He understood. It wasn’t her appearance she thought was unlovable, it was her imperfections. He’d avoided mirrors for the better part of twenty years, never looking himself in the eye until after the war. To see her so blinded by that same pain stabbed at his heart like a rusty dagger. “You are not ugly, Miss Granger. You are the most beautiful witch I know. Inside and out.”
“No, I'm not.”
He turned her face toward him and met her puffy gaze. “I wouldn't lie to you.”
Hermione blinked as he siphoned the snot from her sinuses and vanished her tears. She felt much lighter without all that mucus weighting her head. When he was done, he pressed his lips to her forehead. The sweetness of it made her cry again, but something shifted inside her. Although she was still sad, there was also a strong sense of relief flooding through her.
“Are you ready to tell me what happened?” he asked softly.
She turned her face to the wall behind him, whispering so maybe it wouldn't be true yet. “He was found in a small pond at a park less than a kilometer from his house. His neck was snapped.”
Severus hugged her tighter. “Did you find him?”
“I was at the scene, but Herbert identified him for the Aurors. I couldn't stand to see him like that again.”
“Have they arrested his master yet?”
“No. But Harry said they'd turn his house upside down, and if they found anything suspicious, they'd haul him away to Azkaban.”
“I'm so sorry about Barnabas,” Severus murmured. “You did everything you could for him.”
Her face crumpled. “Then why is he dead?”
Snape sighed, considering how to answer her. “Because there are bad people in this world. But you are not one of them.”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.”
“You're already doing it. Barnabas deserves to be mourned.”
She cried softly for a while longer, and Severus stoked her head as he thought about how he could help her get past this. The way she'd begged for that spanking earlier was a huge clue. She wanted the pain to silence her sorrow. Her world was falling apart, and she needed him to put some order back into it. But he didn't want her trading one hurt for another at a time like this. She needed stability right now. He could give her the strength she craved without resorting to physical displays of dominance.
Hermione had sobbed herself to exhaustion. Sniffling against his robes, she leaned into him and closed her eyes. Her body heaved out a deep sigh, too knackered to cry anymore.
“How are you feeling?” Severus whispered.
“Tired.”
“I know you’re still sad, but are you calmer now?”
“Yes, sir.”
Severus smiled. She was ready for him to take care of her. “Have you had dinner?”
“I wasn’t hungry.”
“Why don’t I run you a bath? I’ll make you a sandwich while you get warm.”
“How long can you stay?”
“All night.”
She looked up at him. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” He got out his wand and cleaned her face again. “Let’s make that a hot bath. You must be chilled to the bone in that robe.”
She got off his lap, feeling shaky and drained. He put his arm around her and steered her to the bathroom. While he plugged the drain and started the water, Hermione couldn’t help thinking how odd it was to see him doing something so normal. So kind.
Severus stood before her, meeting her watery gaze as he untied her sash. Her robe dropped to the floor in a heap, and he smiled softly at her nudity.
Hermione shivered as he drew his fingertips over her clavicle.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “I missed this.”
“What?” she asked, looking down, wondering what part of her body inspired him most.
He tilted her chin back up. “Being with you.”
A tentative smile pulled at her lips. “I missed you.”
That wasn’t something he was used to hearing. He was starting to fancy it. He ran his hand along her neck, skimming his fingers over the soft skin of her upper back and shoulders. "Let's get you in the tub."
Hermione let him lead her over to the tub and help her in. He held her hand as she stepped over the edge then he waited while she sat in the steamy water.
"I'll go find you something to eat." Severus shrugged out of his robes and set them on the counter. “What would you like? Turkey?””
“You don’t know where anything is,” she objected.
“Are you serious?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “I’m guessing bread is under ‘B.’ A blind man could make a meal in your kitchen.”
She blushed but smiled. “Turkey’s fine.”
He nodded and left. Hermione curled into herself and tried to get warm. She didn’t know having someone draw her a bath and make her a sandwich would be such a relief. Those weren’t particularly difficult tasks, but for some reason having him do it for her felt like a mini-break.
Severus left her to stew and headed for the kitchen. Her cat was in there, doing a decent impression of a moth-bitten orange rug. Severus nodded at him and started rifling through her cabinets. The Slytherin in him couldn’t resist moving a stack of glasses an inch to the left. He found some turkey in the refrigerator (in the "T" section of the meat drawer) and with some lettuce and tomato made her a sandwich. He stacked the ingredients in alphabetical order for her.
As he left, Severus stooped down and offered her cat a bit of leftover turkey. “Here, kitty.”
Crooks sniffed his hand then licked the turkey into his mouth, meowing a farewell to his new meat fairy.
Severus went back to the bathroom and found her just as he’d left her. She was staring dejectedly at the water trickling from the spigot. He knelt down beside the tub and held out the sandwich for her. “Bon appetit.”
Hermione smiled weakly and took the sandwich. “Merci.”
Severus ran his finger over her shoulder, watching her for a few seconds. The attention seemed to embarrass her, because she looked away as if she didn’t want him to see her eat. He left her to her meal and sat back, unfastening his cuffs and slowly rolling up his sleeves.
Hermione watched him from the corner of her eye. She couldn’t help letting her gaze linger on his forearm. The scar was concealed, but she knew where it was. She wondered if he hid his for the same reason she hid hers. Maybe it reminded him of a part of his life he’d rather forget.
Severus saw her eyes scoping out his arm. Was she remembering his days as a Death Eater, or was she just curious? He hoped it was just curiosity. Being with her was the one time he didn’t have to think about all the mistakes of his past. He didn’t want her reminiscing about who he no longer was.
Scooting next to the tub, Snape picked up the flannel and dipped it in the water. When he ran it over her back, she sighed and rested her face on her knees. He carefully washed her back while she finished her food. He could see the tension melting from her body. It was so easy to care for her. She seemed to appreciate the smallest of gestures. Letting his fingers trail down her spine, he smiled as she moaned softly.
No one had bathed her since she was a child. It was odd, but soothing. When he finished with her back, he started on her arm. She smiled at him and closed her eyes. She could finally breathe again.
“Turn your back to me,” he murmured.
Hermione did as he asked, wedging herself sideways in the tub. His arm came around her, and he squeezed the water from the washcloth over her chest. The water gushed over her breasts, warming her nipples in the stream. As soon as the warmth was gone, her nipples tightened in the cold air, erecting two sharp peaks for his waterfall to sluice over on his next pass. She could feel his breath on her neck; the soft in and out breezed over her skin. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back to his chest as he started on her other arm. When he was through, he ran his fingers up and down the limb as if making sure he'd gotten all the soap off her. Her smile grew. He wasn't checking for anything, he was just touching her.
Severus curled his arm around her chest again, watching her from over her shoulder. She obviously loved what he was doing. She was practically purring with pleasure. As he soaped her sweet tits, he used his other hand to rinse her, brushing his fingers over her breasts. He didn't want her to think he was using her or trying to make her forget about Barnabas. He wasn't. He just wanted to touch her. It calmed him in ways he couldn't define.
Kissing her temple, he tossed aside the flannel and gently cupped her left breast in his right hand, feeling her heart thump against his fingers. “I want to wash every inch of you,” he whispered. “But I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
Hermione was torn. What he was doing felt bloody amazing, but niggled her stomach like a wriggling worm. Maybe Barnabas could see what she was doing from the beyond. How could she even entertain sexual thoughts at a time like this? “Are you just going to wash me?”
“Yes. If you like. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to take advantage of you.”
She put her hand over his. “It feels really really nice. I just . . ."
“Feel guilty?”
“Yes. Am I that obvious?”
“It’s a perfectly natural way to feel,” he said as he found the soap. He smoothed it over her abdomen and then brushed away the suds underwater. “Pleasure can feel wrong when we’re so aware that someone else will never know pleasure again.”
She blinked away the tears prickling behind her eyes and took a shaky breath.
“But sometimes pleasure can reaffirm that we are still alive,” he said softly, kissing the side of her face. “Sometimes people need to prove to themselves that they can still feel good after they’ve felt so bad.” His hands slid down to her hips, the base of his rolled sleeves dipping into the water. He didn’t mind. His shirt would dry.
He started on her thigh, running the slick soap slowly over her skin under the water and then brushing away the remains with his other hand. Hermione closed her eyes. He was being so sweet. She didn’t deserve such kindness. “I feel like a monster for what I’m thinking.”
He turned her face to him with one wet finger. “You are not a monster. Wanting to feel something pleasant isn’t wrong. Barnabas wouldn’t want you to suffer. I’m sure he would only wish happiness on the witch who showed him such kindness.”
Severus was right. Barnabas had been eager to see everyone comfortable and taken care of. Even the man who had killed him. Severus kissed the corner of her mouth and went back to washing her leg. Hermione watched his long fingers glide over her skin, but all she could think about was Barnabas’s bulging eyes filled with tears. What must he have gone through at the end? And he’d been all by himself. She knew how awful it was to be alone and scared.
“I feel so bad for him,” she whispered.
Snape nodded and slid around to get her other leg, stroking her thigh. “I know. And I’m sure he knows too. You’re allowed to feel bad for him. But don’t mistake that feeling for responsibility. You didn’t kill him. You are no more to blame for his death than you are for anyone else’s. Feel sad all you like, but don’t twist that pain into guilt that doesn’t belong to you.”
Damn. He could read her. Like a book. The tears spilled over, running silently down her cheeks. “How do I stop blaming myself?”
Severus stilled and set the soap back in the dish. He had to think about that. “By focusing on what you can do rather than what you can’t.” His fingertips grazed her muff. “I know you’ll continue to fight for those most in need. Just like you always have.”
His hand cupped her pussy, and Hermione turned to look at him. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
Because he’d promised to help her. Because it felt good to not be an cynical ass for once. Because someone needed to take care of her. “Because I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. You don’t deserve that kind of pain.” His finger wiggled between her lips, softly wiping through her folds. “You deserve to be happy.”
Hermione turned around in the tub, wrapping her arms around his neck. He hugged her back, saying nothing about how she was soaking his clothes. “Thank you, Severus. You deserve to be happy too.”
No. He didn’t. But he wasn’t about to argue with a tearful witch who had her wet, naked body pressed against him. He was there to help her, not have his past washed away.
“I guess I’m not going to need that shower tonight,” he teased, kissing the side of her throat. “Are you still tired?”
She nodded and buried her face in his neck.
“Then I’ll take you to bed and tuck you in. Would you like that?”
“Yes, sir.”
His mouth curled into a smile. “We’re almost done here. Just give me a second.” He kept her against him with one arm and found the flannel, setting it on her lower back. “I said every inch.”
The flannel slid between her cheeks, and Hermione sniffled a surprised smile into his neck. It was embarrassing in weird way that left her feeling cared for.
“Now the day’s washed away,” he purred with a peck to her cheek. “You can rest easy.”
She would rest easier, but it would be because he was there with her. He helped her from the tub and carefully dried her off with a fresh towel. If anyone could see how patient he was being with her, they’d think she had him under an Imperius.
He took her by the hand and led her to her room, turning down the comforter and then covering her back up. She smiled at him and wiggled down between the sheets. She usually slept in pajamas, so being naked felt strangely sensual, all of her nerve endings flaring to life.
Severus put his boots at the foot of the bed so he could find them in the morning, and then he walked around to the other side of the bed. He started to get in next to her when she leaned up on her elbow.
"Aren't you going to take off your clothes?"
"Do you want me to?"
She nodded.
"I don't want you to feel like you have to do something just because we're naked."
"Okay."
He unbuttoned his shirt, noticing the way her eyes darkened. She curled on her side and watched him pull off his trousers. He hooked his thumbs in his boxers and asked, "Everything?"
She smiled. "Yes, please." Having him leave on his boxers would be like putting shorts on Michelangelo's David. He was bloody beautiful.
Severus laid out all his clothes carefully so they wouldn't get wrinkled then he set his black boxers on top and climbed into bed with her. She snuggled into him immediately, laying her head on his chest and wrapping her arm around him. She was still quite hot from her bath, which provided a stimulating contrast to the cold sheets. With a deep sigh, she curled into his side and slid her foot against his calf.
Stroking his thumb along her shoulder, he glanced around her bedroom. There were two watercolors on one wall: one a purple iris, the other a cluster of bluebells. They were nicely done. All the other walls were bare. He wondered why she didn't keep any photographs in her bedroom. They were all in the other room. Bringing up her parents at a time like this was a bad idea; he'd ask some other time. He preferred to stay quiet anyway. If she wanted to talk, she would. Silence was fine by him. Waving his hand, he put out the light.
Hermione closed her eyes, feeling the tickle of his chest hair against her cheek. It was nice lying in bed with him for no reason. Sex had always been a precursor to sleep where he was involved, but now they were just resting together. “Severus?”
“Hm?”
“Thank you for staying with me.”
“You’re welcome. Try to get some sleep. It's been a rough day for you. Whatever you have to think about can wait until tomorrow."
That actually made her feel quite a bit better. Usually her thoughts raced round like a snitch on the Quidditch pitch. She could never clear her mind, but just putting her thoughts on hold seemed feasible. "May I kiss you goodnight?"
He glanced down in her direction. "Of course you may."
Hermione shimmied up his body, touching his face in the dark to find his lips. His jaw felt rough. He probably hadn't shaved since that morning. Her fingers ran over his lips, his breath a heated wisp on the pads of her fingertips. Her lips found his, and she kissed him softly. She was slightly off target, but he turned his head and kissed her back, bringing them into alignment. She wanted him to snog her into unconsciousness.
Severus felt her tongue tapping his lips. Pulling away, he ran his fingers over her soft cheek. "Don't get me going. I don't want to lie here all night with my dick hard and ready."
Hermione ran her hand down his throat, memorizing the contours of his body. His Adam's apple bobbed under her fingertips. “Are you still coming over this weekend?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I don’t want to be a burden. This must be depressing for you.”
“You are not a burden. This arrangement is about me helping you. That isn’t a strain. It’s exactly why I’m here.”
"I don't like feeling sad."
"Most people don't. But it is necessary. Without it we wouldn't be human."
Hermione fell asleep thinking about that. Being a human was hard.

__ __ __ __ __ __ __
Hermione woke before the sun, her bladder jabbing her belly. She didn't want to wake Snape, so she slowly and gently let him go and rolled out of bed.
"Where're you going?" he mumbled.
"The loo."
"Hurry back. I'm cold."
Hermione smiled to herself as she tiptoed down the hall. It was bloody freezing walking about the flat with no clothes. The toilet was a icy seat of torture. She tried to curl in on her legs to keep warm. Not wanting to turn on any lights, she fixed her fallen hair in the dark, wrapping it back up into a bun. She popped a Breath Bright mint in her mouth so she wouldn't scare off Snape when she went back to bed. Crookshanks came to the door as she was finishing up. He meowed at her as if to say "that man is still here."
She scratched Crooks on the head as she passed and whispered, "Don't be jealous. I still love you."
Severus cast a Breath Eraser charm on his mouth while she was gone and then reached under the blankets to test his cock. He'd woken up in the middle of a high tide of hormones, and his dick was hard as a rock. If she came back and happened to run her hand below his waist, she was bound to find it. He didn't know how she would react, but he wanted to play it on the safe side with the Breath Eraser charm.
The only light in the room was coming from the streetlights leaking around her window shade. He could just make out her shadowy form creeping through the door and edging up to the bed. She quickly got back under the blankets, shivering and curling into him for warmth. Smiling into the darkness, Snape wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against his chest. The sharp tips of her nipples grazed his ribs, and he reached over and lightly ran the side of his finger back and forth across one gathered tip. "The bathroom must be colder than I remember."
She smiled and petted his hand, dragging her nails lightly over his wrist and forearm. "Bloody freezing."
"Are you ready to go back to sleep?"
"I'm kind of awake now."
"What time is it?"
"About four."
"We did fall asleep at nine something. My inner clock is going to be in another time zone today."
Hermione looked up at him in the dark. She could just discern the pale hook of his nose and the angular lines of his cheeks and forehead. His fingers left her breast, and she reached out and brought his hand back. She could see the flash of his teeth in the shadows as he smiled. "Severus, what do you think happens when we die?"
Bloody hell, he sighed. "That's a rather heavy question for four o'clock in the morning."
"I know. It's just . . ."
"You're thinking about Barnabas. And in turn, everyone else."
"Yes."
He considered his answer for a few seconds longer. "I honestly don't know, Miss Granger. Sometimes I don't think anything happens, we just blink out like a candle. Or maybe we dissipate into everything and lose our sense of self. Or maybe the Hindus are right and we come back again."
"Do you really believe in reincarnation?"
"I think it's a possibility. If nature has taught us anything, it's that life has a cycle of renewal."
"I hope Barnabas gets to come back as something good."
"No matter what death is or isn't, he's free now."
"Have you ever seen a house-elf come back as a ghost?"
"No. People seem to be the only ones unwilling to move on."
Hermione slid her hand under the blanket, running her fingers over the hair lining his belly. He felt so different than her. The hard planes of his muscles lay right below the surface, solid and strong where she was soft and giving. His body hair was thickest around his belly button, and it made her want to pet him. He was a nice balance of smooth skin and fun furry bits she couldn't help running her fingers over. She suddenly understood what he'd said earlier about affirming the pleasure of living. Just running her hands over him was an experience she was glad to be having. She was alive. Avoiding the joys of this world wouldn't make her happier or bring back anyone who had passed on. Life is for the living. All she could really do for Barnabas now was find him some justice. She could do that.
"Severus?"
"Yes?"
"I'm glad you're still alive."
No one had ever said that to him. Ever. He didn't know how to reply. "Are you?"
"MmHm. I was always glad that you were saved after the final battle, but now I'm glad because you're here with me. If I had known that you would be like this, I would have tracked you down at Hogwarts and hugged the hell out of you."
He laughed. "All that would have gotten you was my wrath. I wasn't up for physical contact until recently."
"And now you're making up for lost time?" she asked with an amused smile.
"Perhaps."
Her hand went lower, following the trail down to his pubic hair. Her fingers bumped into his knob, and it twitched against her fingers.
Severus closed his eyes as she brushed her fingers over his hard length. All her petting and stroking had left his dick straining with anticipation that it would get to be next.
Hermione couldn't help grinning. Sometimes life was so good it was bursting at the seams. "Is this for me?"
It is now. "That depends on how you're feeling."
"Better. Not as broken."
"Guilty?"
She sighed. "Not so much now. More like I want to go back to work to make sure this doesn't happen again."
That sounded healthy to him. "In that case, that is definitely for you."
Hermione ran her finger over the silky head, smiling as it leapt at her touch. "Is it time to show you my new skills?"
He covered her hand with his. "Do you want me to fuck you?"
"Yes."
"Then I think we should hold off on your oral showcase until another time. Why don't you come up here where I can see you."
Hermione slithered up his body and blinked as he made the lamp come on. He somehow dimmed the light, which was a feat not only because he did it wandlessly but because the bulb wasn't dimmable. His hair was all messed up from the pillow, and she smiled at how human he looked. Sinking her fingers into his limp locks, she nuzzled his huge nose with hers. His expression softened, and she kissed the corner of his sharp mouth. He met her lips and gave her several small pecks as if testing the waters. She latched on, gliding her tongue over his lower lip. He grunted quietly and deepened the kiss, sealing their mouths together.
The more she kissed him, the more he knew she was going to be all right. Now that someone had given her a safe outlet for her sadness and fear, she was no longer at their mercy. She would move through her grief without becoming trapped in the quagmire.
Kissing his way over to her neck, Snape rolled her partway onto her back and slid his thigh between hers. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
Hermione ground her pelvis into his leg and whimpered. The heat of his words on her neck and the pressure of his thigh against her sex was an excellent combination. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him on top of her and his erection poked her hip. “I want you so much. Show me how good life can be.”
He smiled into her hair and went to work on her neck, licking and nipping her into an agitated frenzy. He had the urge to show her not only how good life could be, but how much better he could make it. That was a foolish sentiment for him to entertain. Who knew how long this arrangement would last. One day she would see that she no longer needed him, or she would meet a man who could offer more than he could. But for right now, they had something special. Something he’d never had with another witch. Something that made him feel lucky for once in his life. “You are so sweet.”
The gravelly delight in his voice made her shiver. His mouth forged a path from her ear to her shoulder. By the time his teeth were grazing the line of her collarbone, she was mindless. If she ground her pussy into him any harder she was going to rub a bare spot in her pubes.
Snape started down her chest, smiling as she bucked against his belly. His torso was ribbed for her pleasure. Mouthing the sides of her breasts, he avoided her pink nipples, letting her writhe under him like a trapped tiger.
He gave her tight nipple one long lick then went to the other side to keep her even. Her pussy twitched with every wiggle of his tongue. Hermione could feel her excitement leaking from her slit. He kept going back and forth, lapping her tips to craggy peaks. When she was certain her pussy was going to overflow, his lips sealed around her areola and sucked her right tit into his mouth. Her sex throbbed in time with his suckling.
Her needy whimpers morphed to moans of satisfaction. Both her hands were in his hair now, stroking his head and holding him closer. He switched to the other side, repeating the process until her nipple was deep in his mouth, hot and hard against his tongue. He tickled his fingers down her smooth belly and pressed his whole hand against her vulva. She was so ready he could feel a wet line of cream marking the center of his palm. Her pink pussy was begging for him to enter her, her lips already parted, awaiting his grand entrance. He couldn't wait to go down there and get a eyewitness account of how much she wanted him.
Licking his way down her torso, he pushed the blankets and sheets aside and guided her knees up to her chest so he would have a unobstructed view. The shine was radiant.
"Oh, pet," he murmured. "Is this for me?"
Hermione grinned at the ceiling. He'd never called her pet before. He'd never called her anything except Miss Granger. It sounded nice coming from him, as if he was going to take care of her. As if she belonged to him. She felt a bit silly being so turned on by something that had probably been a thoughtless endearment said with no pretext. "It's all yours.”
Severus breathed in the aroma of her arousal. She smelled delicious. He could make a fortune bottling that scent. Her lips were all shiny and plump, and he nuzzled one juicy petal before slipping his tongue into her heat. That musky sweetness couldn't be matched. He slid over her clit, lapping up her luscious honey. Her fingers tightened in his hair, and she shouted out a single "huh!" that went straight to his balls.
He tickled right at her opening, making her hips jerk toward his face. Hermione could feel every tiny tick of his finger in her swollen folds. That obscenely wet sound wasn't just his tongue; she was practically dripping on the bed. Everyone in the room (and possibly neighboring cities) knew just how wet she was.
Easing just inside her tight channel, he pressed at her inner tissue, rubbing and testing its fullness. How much more engorged could she get? Everything was pink and swollen, her entrance almost hidden. Sinking his finger deeper, he pressed against her puffy front wall. When he found the densest area, her leg jolted against his side. Curling his fingers into the bumpy patch, he let his tongue find a natural rhythm against her clit.
Hermione's eyes closed, and she panted at the ceiling in a daze of delight. Her pussy streamed around his finger as her clit started to throb. He added another finger, and her muscles stretched around the digits. It made her want the thickness of his cock even more. His inner stroking got a little faster, and the energy built to a peak. "Unnnnnh!"
He grinned around her clit as her muscles started to spasm. She jerked so violently he almost lost his suction on her clit. The complete abandon of her orgasm was spellbinding.
"Bloody hell," she muttered.
"I'm not done with you yet," he rumbled, licking up some of her shine and starting to curl his fingers again. He let her clit rest and lapped through the bounty of her folds instead.
Hermione moaned softly as he restarted the wettest pussy exploration on record. It sounded as if he was deep sea diving.
Severus kept the teasing slow, only giving her clit the occasional tickle to keep her going. When her pussy started to slosh, she'd be ready for more. Currently, she sounded like a nice juicy puddle; he needed her to sound like a waterlogged washing machine. The more excited she got, the more her inner tissue would swell, providing a nice snug cuff for his cock. He couldn't wait to sink into her strangling heat. He'd been absently keeping himself hard with his other hand, and he gave his dick a few more tugs to make sure it was primed for entry; it seemed to know what was in store, because it fully solidified in his hand as though a charm had been cast on it. "Are you ready for this?"
Her head was spinning with need. "Please fuck me, sir!"
He smiled and got into place, resting his hips against hers. Reaching down with one hand, he slid his swollen knob through her satin slit, slicking his dick in her pool of desire. Her hips jumped each time he skimmed her clit, and when he pressed near her opening, she moaned and spread her legs wider. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face. Her expression was pinched with need. Penetration would be sweet for both of them.
Snape pressed the tip right up to the edge, nudging her engorged entrance. "I missed this," he whispered. "I wanted to see you all week."
Hermione slid her hand to his chest and clasped her knees around his hips. "I wanted you too. I miss you every day."
Edging just his head inside, he closed his eyes as her sheath squeezed him in a warm hello. It was bloody perfect. Gritting his teeth, he gently eased out and then back in, pushing past that first barrel of muscle again and again. His balls were already clenching with excitement. Severus wiped his glans through her folds once more before pushing into that gushing girdle. Her body took him in, swamping him in creamy constriction. Deeper and deeper. He sighed when he felt the firm touch of her cervix bumping against his knob. His hips circled, working his length into every crevice of her cunny, stirring through her brew. The feeling went from his cock to his brain, a blissful bombardment of mindless sensation. Every brush of her hand over his chest pushed him deeper into that void. Opening his eyes, he met her gaze, watching her lids flutter and lower, a mirror of his own state.
Settling down on his elbows, he pressed his chest to hers. Her fingers snaked along his scalp, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He touched his forehead to hers, rocking his cock in and out of her sweltering channel. Her breath puffed over his face, a constant, soft hum purring from her lips. Canting his head to one side, he kissed her. The buzz of her moaning echoed in the cavity of his mouth, dancing along his tongue and ringing in his teeth. Sinking his arms under her back, he cupped his hands around the top of her shoulders and held her closer. Her legs snared his hips, and he felt her feet prodding the base of his bum, urging him deeper as she met his strokes.
Hermione was suddenly in another realm, pierced into a haze of tickling tongues and sweaty limbs, rocked into a cozy den of sex. She felt fabulously relaxed. He was fucking her into an altered state. Her hands pawed at his back, scratching him softly as he began to move faster. His skin was damp with effort, and she sank her nails into him, trying to keep hold.
Severus had to lift his lips from hers. He needed more air. Dropping his face to her neck, he caught his breath as his hips picked up the pace. His body was overheated, but his muscles still felt strong and ready for action. She kept kissing his neck, whimpering in his ear with every stroke. His balls seemed to think that sound was just for them; they twinged in tandem with the vibrations.
Her pussy twitched around him a few times, and her nails stabbed his back, her entire body clenching and arching into him. The band of muscle gripping his shaft suddenly tightened around him, making him grunt in pleasure. The inner undulations of her climax tore at his dick like a squall tearing apart a ship. He could only hold on and hope he didn't drown.
Hermione shouted in release as she crested the wave of her orgasm; he rode her though the curl of contraction. The throb in her core was mind-numbing. He growled loudly into her shoulder, and she felt his hips start to jerk against her as he came. She murmured his name as she floated in a sea of bliss, letting him flood her port with his seed.
Severus slumped against her, trying to catch his breath as she petted his spine. The sharp burn of her scratch marks lined his back. He had no intention of healing them. He wanted the red sting to remind him of that moment as he went about his day.
"I'll miss you today," she whispered, pressing her lips to his sweaty neck.
He would miss her too. "I'll bring over some more books for you tonight."
"And you'll let me suck your dick all I want, right?"
He picked up his head and looked at her, amused by her continued desire for him and feeling like the luckiest man on the planet. "Until you're full."
- 5
- 6
- 7
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