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At Last
A/N: This continued scene is rated a strong R for graphic sex.
Once the doors to the classroom and office were secured behind them, Hermione took a deep, steadying breath. The strains of the song to which they had danced still echoed in her ears, the looks on the others' faces still played in her mind's eye…and most of all, the memory of his voice, richly suggestive, telling her that she looked delicious… Before Severus could begin to work the charms on the door to his rooms, she caught at his robes with the hand he didn't hold captive under his arm and pulled him towards her. Her kiss was demanding; she found that their dancing had taken care of most of the preliminaries…at least for now. She pressed against him, her head beginning to spin as his tongue met hers. Her hand moved lower to graze the front of his trousers (she loved that sound he made when she managed to surprise him), and as her palm rubbed slowly up and down, she felt him begin to stiffen against the layers of material… His firm grip was gentle on her wrist, his whisper insistent silk. "Unless the thought of my desk has some strange appeal for you, do you think you could let me open the door?" She gave him a mischievous grin. "It has possibilities…but not tonight, I think. You may proceed." It amazed her how he could turn her on with just the raise of an eyebrow. Perhaps his most overused facial expression, somehow it never lost its power--to silence, to question, to ridicule. And, of course, to drive her mad with wanting him.
Once inside, her mouth claimed his once more, and he had to aim his wand at the fireplace three times before he managed to break free long enough to ignite the flames. He had thought he was in control, especially after Hagrid's revelation about Lockhart. The look on her face when he asked her to dance…yes, he'd definitely had the upper hand. Until he'd found himself backed up against the filing cabinet, one arm trapped by her breasts against his own chest, her tongue demanding entrance to his mouth…and before he knew it, her other hand… Merlin's balls. As she backed him into the room, her hand again found its way to the fly of his trousers while her tongue explored his mouth slowly and thoroughly. He needed to sit down… He broke the kiss, took hold of her by her forearms, closed his eyes, and breathed. "Why, Professor Snape, you look flushed. Are you all right?" He opened his eyes to see her Cheshire-cat grin. "I'm perfectly fine, my dear. I just need to catch my breath so that I might…tend to you properly." She began to advance, he to back up slowly, as her words melted in her mouth. "That sounds perfectly delightful, Professor. I look forward to that…a little later. Meanwhile, I thought you understood? At present, I'm the one who's going to tend to you." With that, she took a quick step forward. When he tried to compensate, his foot met the sofa, and he had no choice but to sit down. She leaned over him, placing one hand on his shoulder, and trailing the index finger of the other down his cheek. "Now…let me see. Where to begin…?"
Truth be told, Hermione wanted nothing more than for him to take her to bed and make love to her. Severus was an incredible lover, and he took the most exquisite care of her. Never domineering, he let her guide him more often than not. But as sex with him became more familiar, she found herself more at ease, more confident--and she did like surprising him. She wanted to make him feel taken care of…and his response to her kisses was promising indeed. Besides, there was a little something that she truly enjoyed, and that she wanted to practice…. Having traced his cheek with her fingertip, she began to outline his lips. With another small grin, she paused, reached to adjust her skirt, and put one knee between his leg and the arm of the couch. The other one found its place opposite, and she straddled him, leaving enough room between them for her fingers to toy with the buttons of his jacket--and ensuring that any friction generated would be at her instigation. She felt his hands come to her waist, rubbing small circles against the velvet, and she leaned in to kiss him--hot, wet, hungry kisses. He would not simply submit, she knew, and his tongue met hers with equal insistence, before escaping to flick at the roof of her mouth. Willing herself not to simply sink into his embrace, she began to unbutton his jacket as his hands roamed over her lower back, her hips, and her bottom. When she felt him pulling her forward to close the slight gap between them, she removed her mouth from his and placed her hands against his chest. "Ah, ah, ah, Professor. That's not exactly what I had in mind." He had recovered, a bit, and matched her tone. "And what, pray tell, do you have in mind?" One hand trailed slowly down his shirtfront; her fingers eased inside his waistband and paused for a teasing moment before she began slowly to pull his shirttails from his trousers. The grin never left her face; her eyes never left his. As she started on the buttons of his fly, she leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "That's for me to know, and for you to find out…"
He had a good idea where she was headed. It didn't make the anticipation any less. In fact, it was probably worse. He took advantage of her whispering to move one hand to her breast, while the other splayed across her back in a vain attempt to hold her in this closer position. He could feel her smile as his thumb began to tease her nipple. She murmured, "Nice try, but I promise you're going to want to give me some room to work," and then ran her tongue around the edge of his ear, finally sucking the lobe in between her teeth--just as her hand (Gods, how had he forgotten about her hands?) reached in to cup his balls. He moaned, both of his palms coming to rest on her thighs as the fingertips of her other hand fluttered against his aching cock. His head fell back, his eyes closed, and she chuckled softly. "I thought you'd see it my way." Her feather-soft caresses continued for a few moments, and just before he could voice a protest against her torture, she wrapped her fingers around his hard on and gave it a questioning stroke. In answer, he felt himself begin to leak. Her thumb lazily drifted up the underside of his penis, and then smeared the fluid around its swollen head. He moaned again, muttering something under his breath even he couldn't distinguish. Her voice came to him as if from a great distance. "Relax, my love. You're going to like this…"
Hermione looked at him for a moment--eyes closed, lips parted, face flushed. The starched white of his collar in stark contrast with the color that now tinted his throat. His hands tensed on her legs, and his lips formed her name… "Hermione…" She realized that, in her distraction, her fingers had stopped, and she smiled to herself. That torture, at least, had been unintentional. She took her hands away and his eyes floated open. "Hermione…" Audible, this time. One hand on his thigh, she reached forward to place a fingertip against his lips as she rose. "Shh…close your eyes…" He obeyed, and she nudged his knees apart, settling herself on the floor between them. She played with the idea of pulling his trousers down, but decided to save that for later. They were comfortably tailored, and gave her plenty of room to…negotiate. Leaning closer, she breathed his scent in deeply and then exhaled her warm breath over his swollen head, slick with his need. She nudged her nose against the side of his shaft, and then quickly flicked her tongue across the head, thrilled at the sounds he made from above. His hands clenched at the sofa cushions, and she covered them with her own. "Hermione…" She knew that it was part praise, part pleading, and she rewarded him by licking the underside of his cock from root to tip before placing her lips over the head and beginning to suck gently. After a moment, she released him. She couldn't help but tease, just a little. "Do you like that, Severus?" "Angels and ministers of grace defend us," she heard him murmur, and could swear that she saw the corner of his mouth turn up. In answer, she moved her hands to help in her cause. The left slid back into his trousers, gently caressing his sac, while the right circled the base of his shaft. With another flick of her tongue, she took him into her mouth again, swirling her tongue around the head and teasing the spot just underneath before taking him deeper. She sucked languidly for a few minutes, moving slowly up and down, and then turned her head to lick and kiss her way up one side of his cock and down the other as her thumb began to trace the now-familiar ridges. Glancing up at him, she saw his hooded eyes watching her. The intensity of the look only added to the wetness between her legs, and she sighed with pleasure as she let her hand slide up his erection before settling at the base once more. Knowing that he couldn't take much more teasing, she took him into her mouth and began to move in earnest. Her hand moved in time with her mouth, up and down, but with that slight twisting motion that drove him mad. His hips began to shift in response, one hand flew up to entangle itself in her hair, and, after a moment's consideration, she shifted her head, dropped her jaw, and took him deep into her throat. As she instinctively tried to swallow, his hips came off the sofa and she tried not to tense. Sliding back up, she moved more quickly, greedily sucking at his throbbing cock, and when she felt his balls begin to draw up, she reached the tip of her finger back to press gently against that delectable spot just behind them… He called out her name and shuddered. He came hard, and she backed off slightly, her hand still stroking, so she could swallow every drop. She coaxed him with mouth and fingers until he was completely spent, and then cleaned him gently as he softened. He was silent, and she moved to sit next to him on the sofa. He smiled slightly before opening his eyes. At the look on her face, he noted, "You're certainly proud of yourself." She giggled softly, and kissed him before resting her head on his shoulder. "I am at that." "Hmm. Well, my dear, if you give me a minute…or five…to recover, we'll see if I can manage an…appropriate response…"
They sat in silence for several minutes, as it happened. He rested his cheek against the top her head while his fingers traced up and down her arm. She had pulled her legs up into his lap, and absently played with a buttonhole on the front of his shirt as she rested against his shoulder. "I love you, Hermione." It was barely a whisper, but she heard every word. "I love you, too." She shifted in his arms and tilted her head up to kiss him, but he stopped her with a finger to her lips, just as she had done before. His eyes searched hers, and then he kissed her lips--the barest of kisses--before drawing her head to his shoulder again. "I…" He stopped himself, and paused for so long that she wasn't sure he would continue. "I am not at all used to needing someone…anyone. I am certainly not used to trusting without reservations." She raised her head to look in his eyes once more, and was startled at the intensity she saw there. "Severus…I…" He silenced her with a shy smile, a slight shake of his head, but his eyes were still troubled. "Let me say this, my love." He placed his palm against her cheek, ran his thumb along her bottom lip, and took a deep breath. "I do not know what I would do if I ever lost you. Please, promise me. Whatever happens…" His voice caught, and he swallowed. "Please, Hermione, be careful." The hint of another smile, as he echoed her own words from what seemed like a lifetime ago: "Please don't leave me." "I won't," she murmured, and then he kissed her.
After another several minutes, she felt the arm that held her relax, and smiled up at him, putting the playful gleam back in her eye. "I have a confession to make." The eyebrow lifted. "Hmm." "I did not buy you anything for Valentine's Day. But I do have something--I'd almost forgotten about it--that I thought might be, as you say…appropriate?" "I'm intrigued." "Yes, I rather thought you might be." She kissed his cheek and extricated herself from her place on the sofa. "Wait here," she added, on her way to the hearth. With another thought, she stopped. "Or…do you think you could face away from the fireplace, until I get back and tell you to turn around? It's just that coming through the fire isn't the most graceful of entrances." He chuckled, and covered his eyes with his hand. "Will this do?" She smiled even though he could no longer see her. "Yes. Promise you'll let me back through?" "I won't have to." This drew her up short. "Pardon?" "I changed the wards. You can come through any time." He had not moved his hand, and gave no further explanation. Surprised, she said nothing. After a second, she went through the fireplace to find his surprise.
When she returned, Severus was not on the couch, but his jacket was draped over the arm and his boots and socks were placed on the floor near the end. "Where did you go?" she asked, wondering if he was up to something. "Is it safe to come out now?" he called from the bathroom. "I thought I might…tidy up a bit, myself." She took a deep breath, then answered, "Yes, it's safe." Why was she so nervous? He'd seen her in fancy lingerie before…though it had sort of been an accident. She giggled to herself as she heard him running the tap, reaching for a towel. This time, she thought, she'd chosen her ensemble just for him, and with a better sense of her own taste in such matters; the other things were purchased on a dare while shopping with Greg and Bill (who firmly believed that she deserved some tasteful-yet-slutty underthings, even if she wasn't dating anybody at the time). "Severus?" The noises had stopped, but he hadn't appeared. "Sorry, I was just…" His words trailed off at the sight of her. "My Gods…" he whispered, as he stood and stared. She flushed, but let him look. And she didn't mind the chance to look, either: cuffs and collar unbuttoned, the latter falling open to reveal a tempting stretch of collarbone; shirttails pulled out; hair rumpled just a bit, the ends damp from where he'd leaned over the sink to wash his face; and best of all, bare feet… She felt the heat inside her flare up, and she was no longer nervous.
She was a vision. The gown appeared to be satin, of the darkest midnight blue he had ever seen. The material draped between her breasts, suspended from almost nonexistent straps, and then floated down her body, the play of light from the fireplace giving the most torturous hints of what lay beneath. And then she turned. He almost missed her seductive glance, fascinated as he was by the sheen of the satin, the curve of her hip, the shadow and cream of her décolletage. The back of the gown left less to the imagination, but was no less enticing. The infinitesimal straps criss-crossed her back, her hair fell in waves, but the material plunged to the base of her spine. Her skin glowed in the light from the fire. He had to touch her, but he could not move. She turned again, and smiled at him. "I take it you approve?" "Hermione…" She came towards him slowly, dropping her eyes once, for a moment, as if she could not bear the intensity of his gaze. One hand floated up to stroke his cheek, to brush a strand of hair behind his ear. At her touch, he could move again, and he took her into his arms and kissed her deeply. One hand on her back, to feel the warmth of her skin and the silk of her hair; the other at her waist, slowly drawing up her side to cradle her breast… "Take me to bed, Severus…"
He obliged her willingly, scooping her up and carrying her the few feet to the bed. The sight of her had left him breathless, shocked, but now it was as though he couldn't get enough air into his lungs. His breathing was heavy, and his body tingled as if his blood had stopped flowing for that moment, before continuing on its path. He sat with her on the edge of the bed, took her face in his hands and kissed her. Gently first, and then hungrily. When they came up for air, she smiled at him--the goddess of temptation was in her smiles tonight, he thought--and eased back to lie across the bed, languorously stretching her hands up above her head. With a quick grin of his own, slightly on the lascivious side (at least that was the effect he intended; he wouldn't be surprised if it had looked more like sheer giddy joy), he bent his head to kiss her stomach through the slick fabric. His hands found her hips as his mouth traveled upwards to tease one nipple through the cloth. He heard her breath catch in her throat, could almost feel the heat radiating from her. "As much as I love this gown, my dear, I'm afraid it's getting in the way…" Clutching the material at her thighs, he began to pull it up slowly; she lifted her hips slightly to allow its passage, and he slid it off over her head. "Gods, but you are perfection," he whispered, half to himself, and bent towards the other nipple. She actually snorted. He looked up at her in amazement, eyebrow (of course) raised in question, to see her covering her mouth with her hands. "Did I say something amusing?" "I'm…sorry…" Her words were interrupted by giggles, and he waited for her to regain composure, knowing from experience that anything he said or did might serve to extend her fit of laughter. After a minute she bit her lip and looked at him. "I'm sorry. It's just that sometimes…when you say those things…well, I have to admit that the thought of me as the perfect anything is rather…" At his look of irritation, she broke off. "Severus, I'm sorry…it's not you, really. I…" "I see that I have my work cut out for me," he noted, ignoring her apology, "if I'm to show you just how perfect you are to me…" He slid up to stop her from saying anything more--or from giggling, for that matter--with a kiss, as the hand on her hip began again to track small circles.
After that kiss, it was clear that she was in no danger of a return of the giggles. The sounds she was making now were…Gods, he thought he could come just from the sound of her sometimes. Urging him on, occasionally, but usually just soft, earnest moans of pleasure that drove him to distraction. He had been teasing her for a few minutes, in return for her previous torture. His hands and lips had roamed her body, mapping every inch of her, save for the place at which they both wanted him to arrive. Finally, for his own sake, he allowed himself to slip one finger in between her folds. She was hot and wet, and she moaned his name as the finger glided inside her. He added a second, and then a third, as his other hand traced upwards. One finger circled her clitoris, and she squealed, her hips rising to meet his touch. He smiled to himself, and then closed his eyes. He loved the smell of her, the taste of her, and moved slowly at first, enjoying both. As she began to wriggle impatiently, he chuckled, knowing the feel of it would only tease her more. "Severus, please…" He, too, knew a plea when he heard it, and he obliged her yet again. His fingers began to move in and out, his tongue to knead her clit in earnest, and he moved his other hand to her thigh to help keep himself in place as she… "SEVERUS!" She screamed his name as she came, and he sucked at her until she settled once more into the bed. Now her hands came to his hair, and she massaged his scalp as he cleaned her, as she had done for him before. She pulled gently at his hair, and he moved to lie down beside her. For a moment, they lay in silence.
She didn't want to come down completely, and she could feel his rock-hard cock against her hip. So it was only a short moment before she kissed him, her hand moving down to wrap around his erection. It twitched at her touch, and his hips shifted forwards instinctively. She moved her hand to his hip, then, and pulled him towards her. Wordlessly, he rolled with her, coming to rest between her thighs. He gazed down at her for a long moment, then shifted slightly and entered her. Her eyes fluttered closed. Never would she get used to this feeling; she could not imagine anything better than this, than him filling her up, than the two of them linked, like this, together. He held her close as they began to rock, but he was near to release, and she felt him quicken the pace almost immediately. She wrapped her legs around him, drawing him in deeper, and when he came, she came with him.
Later, when they were nestled together under the covers and he was on the edge of consciousness, he heard her murmur, "I will never leave you." He kissed the top of her head, and they fell asleep.
A/N: Hermione and Severus danced to Etta James's "At Last" at the Valentine's dance in the chapter to be read just before this scene--thus the title. The Cheshire cat is, of course, visiting from Alice in Wonderland. "Angels and ministers of grace defend us" is from Hamlet. I couldn't resist. ;) And there towards the end, the bit about her never getting used to the feeling is an echo of a line from Kathy's Màrrach.
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