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The Book that Binds COMPLETE	By : Desert_Sea Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 16013 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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: Thanks for the love again everyone. It got me through another chapter. Whew!

Talented_Mrs_Lupin – you are too kind. And now I see yours is complete. Must go there when I’ve finished!

LeWyKi – yes I’m trying to make these chapters a little longer than TQ so hopefully they are a little more satisfying to read. Communication – sounds like a good idea, perhaps it will start with this chapter? Happy birthday to your Grandpa.

Lovey_Reader – I always love your reviews and here is your shower scene as requested.

OracleObscured – well you sure had your comedy pants on when reviewing. You should be writing this shit not me. I laughed and laughed. But can I just say that there seems to be a bit of a glitch with AFF and the reviews have been truncated so much of yours is currently missing. It better come back. Luckily, I read it so many times that I remember it by heart. Kung Fu Hermione made me cry, please give me the Snape equivalent. Raining Phials, All hands on dick, penis pate etc etc. – comedy gold. Tell me you’re going to do a funny story soon. Actually, GP had some pretty funny moments (not when Crooks died of course). Thanks again.

SnapesOnlyOne – thanks for the love. I appreciate it. If you like carnal Snape – this is the chapter for you!

HarryGinny4Eva – Thanks for another kind review. We all want a man like that!

Lin – lovely to hear from you. I appreciate it since you don’t review often. Yes the passing of AR was very sad and I still find myself getting down about it. The reference to Mesmer was my small homage to him and, for me, created an interesting circularity between story characters, film characters, actors and living people which enables a type of lasting perpetuity, in my mind at least. I hope this chapter keeps you happy.

Chapter 6 – The Black that Blinds

As it turned out, Severus wasn’t in need of a lot of ‘help’ after all. In fact, he seemed to have snapped out of his annoyingly distant state and, in Hermione’s mind, had finally grown a set of balls. Perhaps after revealing his masturbation fantasy (although from now on it was definitely also going to be her masturbation fantasy) he’d concluded that he didn’t have too much to lose. Whatever it was, he’d clearly decided to take the lead and Hermione found herself in the unusual predicament of feeling sexually anxious.

It wasn’t like she’d been the college ‘broomstick’ but she definitely knew her way around a man’s anatomy and was quite proficient in a diverse array of skills, as she’d demonstrated the previous evening. But this was a man who could, literally, make her come using only words. A real life Mesmer. And, as he pulled her, basketfully, into his chambers, she began to wonder how big his bag was and how many other tricks it contained.

They had managed to make it all of one step through his door before he pushed the book against the wall, trapping her hand with it so she was caught, like a mouse, under the gaze of a particularly ravenous cat. But, unlike the unbridled passion of the storeroom, his demeanour was one of simmering restraint, gradually leaning in to her until his mouth hovered just above hers. Rather than closing the distance, however, he tilted his nose until it was nuzzling against the side of hers, drawing the smooth tip down inexorably slowly, his cool exhalations sliding over her upper lip.

She’d only come a matter of fifteen minutes earlier but already he had her core clenching and aching in anticipation. Those deliciously sensuous lips teased her, parted seductively, so close that their warmth radiated over hers, but still hanging back, a barrier of frantic tension separating them. She could feel her pulse ticking through her bottom lip, exquisitely engorged in preparation for union, but left agonizingly bereft. And just as she was about to lunge at him, to capture his lips like a mating pair, he placed a firm hand just below her throat, his thumb and index fingers splaying across her collar bones, holding her back, pressed against the wall. Was there any such thing as a clit tease?

Her breaths were so impossibly shallow that she wondered if her brain was getting any oxygen at all, while the hand against her chest was operating her like a bellows, massaging in gentle rhythmic waves that radiated throughout her entire body. Her mind started to float. She daren’t breathe too hard in case his lips floated away like petals on a breeze.

But then, feather-light he finally alighted. Only one minute point of contact, mouth open, the moist silky caress fluttering against hers—once, twice and no more.

She moaned into the cavern of his mouth, which magnified it like an echo chamber, reflecting her need back into her. Then he touched down again, ghosting against her, before scooping his mouth under her bottom lip and gliding his sweet, succulent tongue across the trembling surface. She daren’t move while his hand continued to stay her, and so her lips hung, parted, as he gently slid over and probed between them.

Slowly seeping across her chest, his fingers twisted around until they were aligned above her breast, and it was their smooth descent under the sheer neckline of her blouse that finally released her from stasis, giving her permission to respond. Folding her lips around the tip of his tongue, she sucked it gently into her mouth, caressing it with her own, before releasing it to capture more, lapping up mouthfuls of flesh until she was locked onto the fullness of his lips, where she began licking, tasting and exploring every part of him.

His visceral groan injected an urgency into her movements and she plunged her tongue deep into him, delving, thrusting, fucking, as he’d described his tongue doing to her.

Meanwhile, his fingers had slipped down to graze the taut nipple straining against the lace of her bra. Each pass of his fingertips jolted her, making her breath catch behind her thrusting tongue. Her legs began to tremble and when he suddenly pinched her nipple between his fingertips, she cried out into his mouth and he caught her in his arms.

Scooping her up, one handed, the elbow of his bound arm hooked against her knee, he carried her easily. It was an impressive show of physical strength and she found herself melting into the hard, sinewy muscles that pressed against her.

He carried her into the bathroom before kicking the door shut. But, rather than setting her on the ground, he moved directly to the tiled wall, pressing her to it so that her face was almost on a level with his. Slowly, he drew his knee up the tiles until his thigh was resting between her legs, holding her in place. The pressure of that firm muscular saddle grinding against her swollen pussy sent her body into overdrive and her breaths came in shuddering gasps.

Leaning in close to her, scorching a steamy trail across her flushed skin with the heat of his gaze, he suddenly lunged at her lips, capturing them in a writhing mass of carnal hunger that sucked another moan from her depths. Forcing her mouth open with his tongue, he slipped one long, elegant digit in next to it, and she immediately responded by tilting her head and sucking the new arrival into the soft cavern of her mouth. He drew back to watch her devour it, licking, sucking and bobbing her head to run her lips up and down its length. That mouth. He could now see the treatment that her beautiful, sensuous, talented mouth had given his cock and the straining member in his trousers took another shot of blood, becoming impossibly, painfully, hard.

Slipping a second finger into her mouth he hooked the two around into the inner wall of her cheek and pulled gently to tilt her head further to the side, exposing the elegant slope of her neck, moist with perspiration. As she laved around and between the two digits in her mouth, he bent his head to her fluttering pulse and licked it. Her breasts rose into him, then further with each grazing nip that he placed on a sinuous trail up her sensitive flesh, until he was feasting upon the tantalizing juxtaposition of softness and rigidity at the juncture with her jaw.

Nuzzling upwards, his nose and then his tongue found her earlobe, licking under and around it, before sucking it into his mouth and flicking it with the tip of his tongue, just as, she knew, he would a clitoris. She was just as confident that she knew where he would go next. Like an animal pinned out on a dissection board—he had one of her hands trapped by the book, his fingers securely hooked into her mouth, and a knee wedged against her pussy, exposing her so that he could play with her as he wished. And she loved it.

After lapping and nipping at her delicate earlobe until it was slick and swollen, he felt he had sensitised her sufficiently, delving his hot, wet muscle directly into the tight hole. She jerked, growling, and bit down on his fingers.

His lips quirked up around his writhing tongue, as he pulled his fingers from her mouth. She was ready. Although the spreading damp of her pussy against his thigh might have been indication enough.

“Remove our clothes,” he instructed her.

She was so aroused that her blood seemed to have been redistributed away from her brain. Mind reeling, wrist limp, words slurred, she cast spell after spell and, since he hadn’t specified an order she, naturally, removed his first.

Peeling away the dark jacket like aubergine skin, she followed with his white shirt, then his black trousers, which took some tugging to drag them out from under her pussy. Admittedly, she probably tugged them more than necessary but the sensation of the woollen fibres repeatedly abrading her clit had been just too exquisite.

The final article for removal was his black satin boxers which, distorted by his jutting erection, had taken on a distinct anvil shape. Releasing the seams, she let the rear panel drop to the ground, while the other draped across his cock like a shiny magician’s cape, waiting for the big reveal.

“Get on with it,” he growled, knowing exactly what she was up to.

Whisking the material away with a flick of her wand, she had her first proper look at the Cock Ness Monster, fully erect and swaying majestically below her.

Until now, Hermione had thought that the combination of full-body nudity with shoes was about as erotic as Filch in a G-string. But now, appraising Snape’s lean muscularity in the flickering lamp light, the smattering of dark hair on his chest and adorning his magnificent cock, with his black tailored boots open at the ankles, in sex action pose, like Adonis, taut and ready, she felt a fresh wave of juice leak from her onto his thigh.

As she ogled his body, he leaned into her vision and raised a ‘hurry up’ eyebrow. Quickly flicking further spells, she let her clothes slide off in a waterfall of fabrics, leaving her naked except for her low heels which she kicked off, seductively, one at a time.

He’d seen her breasts, briefly, when she’d undressed in front of him the first time. But now they were only inches from him, and his eyes shuttered with desire at his smouldering gaze slid down the soft ripeness of her creamy peaks and settled upon her dusky pink nipples.

“Water,” he ground out.

It took her a moment to understand that he meant the shower. With a flick, she had the taps on and the room instantly started to steam.

His arm slid down behind her and she prepared for him to lower her to the ground but, instead, he grasped her by the hip and lifted her against the tiles with one strong arm, sliding her up until she was positioned above him. He pressed in even closer, pinning her to the wall and pushing her legs behind him to lock around his abdomen. Her breasts were now hovering just below his mouth. This was clearly a man who didn’t intend to bow down to anyone.

She watched as he tilted his head and leaned in, gently engulfing both nipple and the surrounding flesh with his mouth. But, rather than sucking it, his lips remained open, holding, savouring it, like the flesh of a ripe peach, his tongue snaking out to sample each element. The gentle restraint was almost more than Hermione could bear. Then, releasing the moist nub, he rubbed his lips and chin against it, clearly enjoying the sensation of the soft puckered flesh rolling against his own.

When he finally sucked her into his mouth, Hermione let out an agonised moan, her head pitching back against the tiles as she grasped his silky hair with her free hand. Her aching core desperately needed to be filled, preferably to capacity, but she settled for grinding it against his clenching abdomen as he worked her nipples into long glistening peaks.

Her whimpers told him that his decision to indulge in a side-dish of nipple-garnished breast had been the right one, but his cock, weeping with precum, and her pussy frantically daubing his stomach with her liquid desire, convinced him that it was time for them to finally meet and exchange details.

Allowing her to slide through his arm until his obsidian eyes were locked with her brown ones and his silky cock was bobbing against the cleft of her backside, he held her to him as he turned, kicked off his boots and stepped into the billowing steam of the shower.

The furious gabble of the water welcomed them, cascading in hot sheets down their skin, as the steam blurred their fused bodies like an impressionist. His lips met hers in the sluicing water. Stepping forward, he pressed her back against the glass, holding her in place with the hard planes of his body while his free hand lifted her left leg from his hip and hooked it over the infernal book still locked between their hands.

When she finally slithered down to a standing position, only one foot supported her on the shower base, while the other remained slung over their joined hands, exposing her pussy not only to the frantic spray that deflected off the cursed book but also to his long, elegant fingers, two of which now slid deftly along her folds before delving deep into her slick channel.

“Unnhhhh,” she moaned as her eyes fluttered closed and she clutched at his flexing arm for support.

Thrusting his fingers rhythmically into her tight sheath, he realised she was going to require more preparation if his cock was going to follow without too much opposition. Tilting her head back against the glass, he engulfed her mouth, pushing his tongue into it in slow thrusts to match the passage of his fingers sliding in and out of her other slick hole. When he introduced a third finger, she sucked the air from his lungs with a rapid intake of breath.

Gently, he continued to work them into her, twisting and stretching, before adding a fourth as he fucked her mouth with his tongue. She was a conflicted jumble of liquefied tension under his ministrations but, eventually, he felt that her sheath had stretched sufficiently to accommodate the rigid column that had been eyeing her off jealously throughout his languid fingering.

Hooking his free hand under her other thigh, he lifted her back up against the glass and spread her wide before locking her eyes with his. He’d done the preparation but he wanted her to choose the outcome. Without hesitation, she reached between them and grabbed his cock, positioning the head at her entrance before allowing it to slide through her fingers with the first thrust of his hips.

“Gods!” she cried out, her eyes rolling back in her head.

Her whole body clenched and he stopped, mid-stroke, waiting for her to relax. Her breaths grunted out with the pressure in her pelvis but eventually she felt able to breathe freely and gave a faint nod for him to continue. Holding her thighs apart, he pushed in a little further, watching her closely. Despite the tension in her shoulders, her lips were slack and her pupils dilated with lust—he knew she wasn’t in severe discomfort. And when her laboured breathing eased again, he pulled back slightly before sliding along her clenching channel a little further, then further, until the final roll of his hips saw him slide in to the hilt, his head kissing her cervix.

“Are you alright,” he murmured in her ear over the patter of the water.

She nodded hurriedly.

Slowly, he drew himself out, but it was like he was vacuum-sealed inside her, she was so tight. The hot, wet suction on his cock was beyond exquisite and he groaned with a carnal pleasure not experienced in years. Each time he thrust back in, it felt like the first time, her honeyed walls grabbed and clenched around him, making him hiss through clenched teeth as his balls twitched eagerly—too eagerly.

Hermione was being reamed into a state of incoherent oblivion. She had never been so completely filled by anything or anyone. The sting in the rim of her pussy had been replaced by a slow burn that melded with the friction of his pumping cock until she felt her core melting with an impending nuclear reaction. Normally she would need her clitoris stimulated to trigger the building tension in her depths but his cock alone seemed to rub and tug on every bundle of nerves and his steady thrusts were enough to drive her muscles into a frenzy.

As his pace quickened, she could hear him grunting in her ear and his raw need was enough to drive her right to the edge, her own moans echoing in the perfect acoustics of the bathroom.

She grasped a handful of his wet hair and pulled him so that his forehead was leaning against hers. She wanted to watch him come. Droplets of water clung to his long eyelashes and his almost pained expression and breath bursting through parted lips, told her he wasn’t far off. She glanced down at his red, pistoning cock as it flashed in and out of her pussy and her cunt clenched reflexively.

“Uuuunnnhhhh.” She watched his face contort as his thrusts turned feral and that was enough to trigger the explosion inside her. Bucking upwards, her insides clamping uncontrollably, she rode his straining column as he continued to drill deeply into her.

Crying out, she allowed the convulsions to wrack her body against the glass, while her pussy gulped and then squirted. He was trying to keep his footing in an earthquake and, finally, he succumbed, his balls shuddering violently and ejecting stream after stream of come deep into her quaking channel, liberally coating it with his thick secretions, marking her insides like a cave painting.

***

They were lying in his bed. She was trying to read but her eyes kept roving back to his face as he dozed, peacefully, beside her. Each time she looked at him, all she could see were the seductive nips of his passionate mouth, his lips locked tightly around her nipple, or the ecstatic expression on his shuddering face as he came. His hair was still damp after she’d finally managed to give it a much-needed wash. Ironically, despite the fact that they had both been in desperate need of a clean, the vast majority of scrubbing had occurred between her thighs.

Sighing, she dumped the book of ancient curses on the bed beside her. She wasn’t in need of any of Mr Boats’ titillating descriptions at that moment, feeling more than fulfilled by the afternoon’s antics. But she was interested in his philosophies and insights which peppered the chapters and captured her imagination perhaps more than any of the rest.

Turning the book in their hands and opening to the end of a chapter, she began to read:

If one is not able to express themselves fully sexually, or otherwise, if they only exist in the imaginings and projections of others, how can they fully exist? How can they be fully free?

This struck Hermione as being, somehow, significant and she suddenly felt guilty but didn’t know why.

To be loved is to have one’s everything accepted. From peccadillos to abominations. The entire spectrum. For to be truly loved, one must be loved for the frailty of being human.

Hermione felt her throat tighten.

To be human is to also be vulnerable. So many intentions of the tragic romantic, conceived in tears, are born drowned.

“Are you alright?”

Her eyes flicked up to see him watching her. She brushed away the tear that was trickling down the side of her nose, shaking her head.

“It’s just something here. Something I read.”

She brushed away another tear and drew a deep breath.

Then she took a chance. And read it to him. When she’d finished, he closed his eyes and turned away.

Her anger flared. He really didn’t get it. She should have known that it'd be wasted on him.

“The next lines?”

She didn’t register what he’d said through the haze of her anger.

“What?”

“What do the following lines say?” he repeated.

She looked down at the swimming pages. There were more lines.

“And yet we must live beyond that. Beyond the worst of our fears. The depths of our losses. For the burden of the human condition is not to be experienced alone . . . ”

“It is to be shared,” he finished.

She stared at him. “You have read this book,” she whispered.

His dark eyes bored into her, their infinite depths stretching back like a long and lonely road, paved with pain.

“I wrote it.”
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The Book that Binds *COMPLETE*

The Book that Binds COMPLETE