Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Massage	By : CryingCinderella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 52203 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make any money from writing these stories.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! It's helpful to know what you guys think!

She had patients to attend. That was the least of worries when she’d reached her chambers. She had taken a brief moment to check on those few students who had materialized during the wee hours of the morning, a third year Ravenclaw girl with cramps so severe it would have been cruel to send her to classes in the morning, and a fifth year Hufflepuff boy who had chronic uncontrolled nosebleeds. But as she absently presented them with routine checkups her mind was unfocused. All she could think of was the way he’d pinned her so firmly against the wall and the way he’d thrust so hard into her. The memory was almost frightening.

            Hermione could not wrap her head around it. It had happened so fast. One minute they had been arguing. She had been defending herself; defending her professional treatment of the man, though if truth be told her thoughts had been far from professional as of late. But she had not provoked him, at least not intentionally. And one minute there was shouting the next her face was pressed roughly against the stone wall and he was there; between her legs, fucking her, violating her. She shook her head. It hadn’t been a violation so much as surprise, and though she was hesitant to admit it, it had been particularly pleasant if completely unexpected.

            She skipped breakfast. Though she suspected that he would not being showing his face in the Great Hall she was not quite ready to take the risk if it meant facing him. She wasn’t sure how she was going to continue with his treatment after the episode in his chambers. She hadn’t meant to arouse him, at least not intentionally. And she certainly hadn’t meant for it to end as it had, though there was no denying that it had been somewhat pleasurable. Not nearly enough for her to have reached an orgasm but the sensation of his long, thick member driving into her as she was pinned firmly against the wall lingered with her as she flopped down on her bed. Her eyes were wide as she gazed up at the ceiling. It was almost impossible to accept that it had actually happened. She knew that wizards had a much shorter refractory period than muggle men and that the stronger a wizard was in his magical abilities the shorter said period lasted. But she had just witnessed the man reach climax indirectly at her hands. And then moments later her had pinned her against the wall and achieved climax again. Perhaps they had argued longer than she had realized.

            Hermione groaned aloud in frustration. She would have to confront him at some point but she didn’t even know where to begin. There was the possibility that she could pretend that it had never happened. Just like she had attempted to pretend that she hadn’t tasted him after the first time. But if she pretended that it hadn’t happened that meant there was no chance for a second encounter. Hermione curled onto her side and sighed. Did she want a second encounter? Her body was clearly making that decision for her. She closed her eyes. He was a peculiar man but a delicious fuck even if he hadn’t satisfied her. His intention hadn’t been to satisfy her and she wasn’t entirely sure that he was aware of what had actually happened. The bed groaned in protest as she rolled back and forth over the mattress trying to sort her thoughts.

            If she was blunt it might help her chances. But as a medical professional she had no business attempting to increase her chances at a second encounter. Hermione frowned. She was in quite the predicament. Wrinkles creased her forehead as she frowned further; there was no one with whom to discuss her situation. Taking her case to her mentor from Mungo’s would result in a dismissal of her mediwitch license and possibly disbarment from being able to work in magical medicine. It really wasn’t much of a situation if she was honest. The right thing to do was provide him with treatment as a professional, her own desires be damned. But how could she adequately provide such services when her touch seemed to set him aflame? It was a taunting question. Another growl of frustration escaped her lips as she rolled over onto her stomach.

            Within minutes she had given up on trying to find a way to approach the man and found herself in her bathroom. Hermione peeled her robes from her body and slipped into the shower, welcoming the hot spray of water as it rushed over her face. She closed her eyes and turned so the water poured down her back. Leaning forward she pressed her face against the cool tile of her shower wall and spread her legs slightly. Slowly she trailed a hand down her side, letting her fingers dance lightly over the side of her thigh before she brought her hand between her legs and began to gently stroke her folds. She was still slick with his seed, unsatisfied and craving release. She whimpered softly as she nudged her thumb gently against her sensitive nub and imagined for a moment that it was his hand, larger and firmer, touching her sensitive area.

            She trembled and quivered, the heat creating a delicious atmosphere as she touched herself again. Two fingers slipped easily inside of her warmth and she kept her eyes closed, imagining they were his fingers, stroking her hot interior. In and out she pumped her fingers, her legs trembling as she bent further forward, trying to recreate the sensation of his weight pressing over top of her. Hermione moaned softly, her cries growing slightly louder as she curled her fingers faster. But it was not as satisfying as he had felt. He was thicker, longer, thrusting with vehemence and strength. Her lips parted as she growled and withdrew her fingers from between her legs, letting the hot water streak over her as she turned her face once more into the spray.

            Hermione pulled the curtain back and stepped out of her shower, water still running. She moved to the vanity in her bathroom and pulled open the top right drawer. She rummaged around for only a moment but smiled as she curled her fingers around a long purple phallus. It was not as thick as he had felt but certainly close in length. With a press of a button on the base, the phallus began to vibrate. Her lips spread into an even wider smirk as she stepped back into the shower and pulled the curtain shut. The steam clouded her vision as she slowly lowered herself to the bottom of the shower and lay down, bending her knees with her feet flat on the tile, spreading her thighs.

            She positioned the vibrating tip at her entrance and closed her eyes. She imagined the hot steam to be his breath against her neck as she panted and trembled, slowly pushing the vibrating phallus into her slick womanhood. It was his hardened length that she imagined was slowly pushing into her and then slowly drawing out of her, his lips against her neck as they had been. Her chest began to rise and fall heavily; one hand forcing the toy back and forth inside her; the other roaming over her breasts as if it were his hand, eager to feel the swell of her bosom against his palm. Hermione moaned, his fingers pinching her nipple, rolling it between the tight pinch of his forefinger and thumb and she bucked her hips to meet his thrusts. Fingers trailing over her chest as the water beat down on her from above and she moaned again feeling her other nipple stiffen further as it was pinched.

            With wild thrusts of her hips against the vibrating phallus, and rough twists of her nipples she came, murmuring his name, imagining his hands on her chest, his cock buried inside of her. The water continued to rain down upon her and it was several moments before she flicked the button on the base of the phallus and slowly sat up in the shower. She blinked water droplets from her eyes and then sighed. Her body had felt release, but her imagination could only provide so much. She placed the toy on the rack that held her bottles of shampoo and other shower products before slowly standing. Hermione found herself longing to feel him, longing to taste more of him. In the sudden encounter while she had been granted his cock and the feel of his nose and lips against her neck, she needed more. The sensation if his hands on her bare breasts, not just roughly groping through fabric. And she longed to feel his lips on her own, to imagine his tongue twisting against hers as they kissed. It sent a shiver up her spine.

            She turned the water off and reached for a towel. Wrapping her dripping wet body in the fluffy red terrycloth; Hermione retreated to her bedroom and collapsed once more on the bed. It was going to be impossible to confront him. After having imagined it was he who had brought her to release she would be unable to stare him straight in the eyes without blushing. Hermione sighed and closed her eyes for a moment trying to resolve the issue at hand. But after several moments of dozing in and out of consciousness she gave up and resigned to see him after dinner, consequences be damned. He was a patient in her care even if that line of medical professional and patient had been discarded.

            Hermione was surprised to find that his office was empty. She dared not enter his chambers uninvited but could not bring herself to knock on the door. She wasn’t sure what she dreaded more, the scathing string of verbal assaults that she had to look forward to upon every visit with the man or the fact that while she would be examining him it would be incredibly difficult not to picture him naked. She of course had seen the man stripped of all his garments, but then he had appeared so helpless, so humiliated. It was nothing compared to how she longed to see him. The demanding, rough, passionate man who could easily pin her to the wall despite his weakened muscles; and have his way with her. The notion of being ravished again was almost too much to bare. She felt her insides tumble and a warm familiar sensation began to grow between her thighs.

            She cursed herself for being so wanton, unable to control her thoughts about the man. The man who was clearly in need of treatment. She frowned and paced in front of his chamber door as she debated whether or not to seek him out. After several minutes of wearing her feet tired she stood still and lifted her hand to the wooden door. She knocked, three times, and waited. But when there was no answer she found her lips pursed in a deep scowl. Curiosity got the better of her as she tried the handle and was surprised to find the door to be unlocked. Surely he was within, as she doubted him to be the type that would leave without locking and warding his door.

            Hermione mustered her courage and pushed the door open, stepping inside his sitting room as she had done that morning. Only this time he was not leading her, and when she entered he was nowhere in sight. Her voice was lost as she opened her mouth to call out. She wasn’t frightened but found that she thought better of calling out for him lest she anger him for invading his chambers without invitation. She had come to check on him; and although the hour was late she doubted he had departed for evening patrol or whatever else it was that the man did at night.

            She stood still in the center of the sitting room, gazing idly at the fireplace which she had been next to earlier that morning. She felt the hairs on her neck stand up at the memory. With a slight shake of her head she wrung her hands together and bit her lower lip before stepping deeper into her personal rooms. There was a corridor off to the far left of his sitting room and she could just make out the faint glow of light somewhere from further beyond where she could not see. Her chambers were not quite so elaborate but as a temporary faculty member she was grateful to have chambers at all.

            As Hermione tiptoed toward the corridor she found that she was holding her breath. It wasn’t as if she was frightened by him. Certainly the man could make a fuss when he felt it necessary but she was long past the days of being terrorized. The tormenting and teasing hadn’t ceased but she would come to terms with that when she found him. The corridor was long, two doors on the left and three on the right. The second door on the left was mostly closed but it was the door with the light radiating through its cracks. She noted that the third door on the right was open, a soft candle’s glow or perhaps the glow of a dull dying fire was creeping into the corridor. Hermione stepped up to the second door on the left and placed her hand on the handle.

            She pushed the door in and stepped into a steamy bathroom. At first she did not see him, but as her eyes adjusted to the heated room she saw him standing with a scowl on his lips, arms crossed tightly over his chest His hair was dripping wet, falling down over his shoulders. A towel was wrapped tightly around his waist, his feet were bare. It was obvious he had just stepped out of the shower. Hermione blushed and tilted her head to look away, unable to hide her expression of awe. She cupped her hand to her lips and cleared her throat. “Sorry to intrude,” she muttered.

            He narrowed his eyes at her. “Have you no decency?” he spat.

            “Excuse me?”

            “Barging in on a man in his private chambers, without invitation or permission, and then waltzing right into the bathroom to seek him out?”

            Hermione brought her eyes to his and huffed. “I was coming to check on my patient since you didn’t report to the medical wing,” she said.

            “Is that all?” he sneered, his lips curling into a smirk.

            Hermione paled and felt the colour drain from her face. Her stomach began doing horrible flip flops as her heart began to race. “If you are implying that I came here to—”

            “Yes?” he queried, raising an eyebrow high up on his forehead.

            “Oh,” she scoffed. “You are impossible.”

            “Get out of my bathroom so that I can dress in peace,” he spat.

            “You can keep the towel what I need to examine I can see without you dressing,” she quipped and stepped toward him. He did not move to block her as she approached him and did not pull back when she placed a firm hand against the top of his shoulder. With a quick glance around the room she found a stool tucked beside the sink and pulled it over to where he stood. “Sit,” she said with her voice haughty and commanding.

            Severus narrowed his eyes at her but after a moment complied. He kept his towel tight around his waist as he sat and then turned so that his back faced her. Hermione bit her lower lip. She placed both hands gently on the tops of his shoulders and then smoothed them down his back. “Are you experiencing much more pain? Any tremors?”

            He did not answer right away but as she began to apply gently pressure to his shoulder blades he responded in a soft whisper. “No more so than usual.”

            Hermione carefully extended his arms, first his left then his right, rotating them and watching as his muscles tensed when she pulled too far in one direction or moved his arm too quickly. She frowned. She let his arms rest at his side before placing her hands on the top of his shoulders once more. His hair was still dripping as she pushed it gently over his shoulders to hang in front of his chest, exposing his back more readily to her. And then she did the unthinkable. She slowly lowered her lips to the place where his shoulder joined his neck and pressed them there, hesitating before placing a soft fleet of kisses down the sweep of his shoulder.

            Severus spun around quickly on the stool and glared at her. “Have you lost your mind?”

            “No more so than you yours this morning,” she said and held his gaze.

            “I will not have some wanton unprofessional harlot raiding my chambers to satisfy her carnal urges,” he sneered.

            “I beg your pardon?” she snapped though she could feel her face flooding with red. “You were the one who threw me against the wall in your sitting room and— and—” her tongue tripped and she could not bring herself to be so crude as to say what she was thinking.

            “And what? I have no idea what you are talking about,” he sneered and stood from the stool, towering a good two heads over her.

            Hermione’s eyes widened as she gazed at him disbelieving. “You forced me against that wall to fuck me!” she squeaked, surprised that she’d managed to say it.

            “You’ve lost your mind,” he spat and pushed past her moving toward the sink. He leaned over it, bracing his weight upon it, his head hanging slightly as he gazed into the basin.

            “Me?” she cried and stalked across the bathroom to him. Rough hands grabbed his shoulders and forced him to turn around. She stood up on her tiptoes but quickly lost her balance and found her chest leaning against his.

            “Kindly remove yourself from my person before something that you won’t like happens,” he spat. His voice was low, his eyes a dark unfathomable black as she gazed at him. “Now, Miss Granger,” he added.

            Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, blinking slowly, and when she opened them she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. Hermione kissed Severus Snape.

Thanks for reading! Please leave a review!
- 6
- 7
- 8
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Massage