The Burning Pen

Yuleride
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 42

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 42 ~ Under the Stars Continued

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Snape’s eyes locked to Hermione’s undulating body and he slowly lowered the wrap around his head as she swung her hips back and forth, then extended her arms on either side, palms up and sensuously shimmied, her breasts, then turned to the side, exposing her leg and winding her body before slowly dropping to her heels, moving her body in a perfect imitation of the cowgirl position, then slowly easing up, turning her back towards him and shaking her arse.

Severus Snape had never experienced this before, a woman purposely tantalizing him in such a manner. He was thoroughly smitten, and not just because of Hermione so wantonly advertising her wares, but because she had gone through so much trouble to do this for him. She was beautiful, delicious, amazing as she glimmered in the torchlight, widening her stance and whirling her hair about wildly before taking a step toward him, thrusting out her hip and winding it slowly, so slowly, then repeating it with the other leg, easing toward him.

It felt as if every muscle in his body was taut and tense. He wanted to spring on her as she came closer, finally stopping about five feet away, her eyes heated as she saw how tight his jaw was, his hands clenched into fist and desire so plain on his face. She had the power here, and he had to acknowledge it as she danced for him beneath the stars, almost close enough to touch. Not touching her was a delicious torture. Snape’s cock was so full of blood that it was nearly painful and he shifted on the ottoman, swallowing, his Adam’s apple working up and down as Hermione danced. She turned again, her round buttocks swinging side to side, then she bent over, her hands touching the ground, giving Snape a luscious view of it’s roundness before she dropped down to her heels again, slowly gyrating upward and turning to face him.

”Do you like my dancing?” she asked him softly, still moving, rolling her belly as best she could as she looked at the wizard.

”Yesssss,” Snape hissed. “Come here, witch.”

Hermione gave him a naughty smile.

”Not yet. I think you need a bit more teasing,” she replied with a wicked toss of her hair, which was now wild around her head, the curl slowly falling.

”You don’t want to tease me too much, Hermione,” Snape said thickly.

”I’ll take my chances,” she purred at him, increasing her movements.

Hermione tantalized and taunted Snape this way for twenty minutes, the wizard jerking slightly as he fought to remain seated. It was when she took another step forward and danced directly in front of him that he lost it and leapt to his feet, grabbing the witch. But instead of taking her down to the bed, he backed her up against a palm tree, kissing her passionately, overwhelming her with his ardor and desire, pressing against her body almost desperately, his breathing harsh.

When he broke the kiss, he was still breathing hard, leaning his forehead against hers as he caressed her shoulders, sides and hips, running one pale hand down her exposed thigh.

”I haven’t yet begun to love you, Hermione Granger and already I feel I can’t go deep enough inside you,” he said to her, his voice raw. His mouth found her throat, and Hermione tilted her head to the side, her eyelids half closing with pleasure as he suckled her tenderly, but she could still feel the urgency of his body as he pressed against her.

What Snape said managed to register with Hermione’s desire-soaked brain enough for her to dreamily respond. Gods, he felt so good against her. He needed to be closer.

”Love me?” she breathed.

”Yes,” Snape murmured against her ear as he began to rub against her in earnest, his full blown erection pressing into her pelvis from beneath his robes. “Love you, Hermione. It makes no sense to pretend I have no tender feelings for you. If I am capable of loving, then I am most certainly in love with you and there’s nothing for it, even if you do not return my love. I am—am used to that. I can deal with my love being unreturned as long as there are times like this, when you want and need me physically—”

He hungrily covered her mouth again, unable to continue expressing himself verbally. He could show her how he felt—and would.

Hermione thought Snape’s declaration of love was the sweetest and saddest thing she had ever heard, a mixture of hope and resignation, of acceptance and self-depreciation. Instead of opting for everything that love entails, the care, the emotional bond, the loyalty, Snape was willing to take whatever he could get, as if he were unworthy and deserved nothing more.

And he had the nerve to call Gryffindors martyrs.

Hermione pulled away from his kiss and looked up into his pale face. He was no handsomer than the night she first engaged him, but as far as being desirable, there was no one else on the face of the planet that could hold a torch to Severus Snape. Volatile, snarky, courageous, dangerous, argumentive, sarcastic and positively addictive, he was the ideal wizard for her. Life would never be dull or routine with him. Ever.

”I’m going to want and need you for a long, long time, Severus Snape,” Hermione told him softly, brown eyes locked to black eyes, “and it will be for more than just physical reasons. You’re a bloody bastard most of the time, and I love you that way.”

Snape stared down at her for a moment, then gave her a small smirk.

”At last. A woman who understands me,” he replied, then covered her mouth again with his own and scooped her up into his arms. Snape was elated at her response, but hid it well. She’d know how he felt once they engaged. He’d make sure of it.

He turned toward the ottoman, kissing Hermione hungrily as he quickly approached the most important piece of furniture at the oasis. He gently lay her down among the cushions and pillows and looked down at her thoughtfully for a minute or two, Hermione getting impatient.

”What are you doing?” Hermione demanded as the wizard ran his forefinger over his lips while he considered her.

”Trying to decide if I want to take you with or without that costume on,” Snape replied, frowning slightly. “On or off? On or off?”

Suddenly Hermione grabbed him by the wrist and yanked the surprised and off-balanced Potions master into the bed with her, rolling on top of him. The startled wizard looked up at her.

”You can decide that while we get comfortable,” she breathed, kissing him passionately.

Snape was caught completely off-guard. This was something else entirely new to him, a witch who took charge. Where had this Hermione come from? She was a far cry from the young woman who came to him Christmas night needing to feel what it was to be truly desired and surrendering to him. This Hermione was on the attack and apparently taking no prisoners.

No Hermione wasn’t taking prisoners. She just felt it time to flip the script and let Severus Snape know what it was to be truly desired for a change. It was wonderful to be able to give pleasure, but everyone deserved to be pleasured as well. As far as Hermione was concerned, Severus Snape the teacher was now—the student.

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Now, Hermione didn’t suddenly develop any super sexual skills. She was still the same witch that had been with Ron in a rather routine relationship. But it was only routine because of the lack of passion. There was no lack of passion with Severus. In fact, he was very compelling because she knew he probably never had a woman want him the way she did, and any act she performed on him would be elevated to the Nth power. And she was going to perform acts. She definitely wanted to blow him, well as best she could. He was too huge to really do much to mouth-wise, but that’s why she had hands. She was also going to kiss him all over, much like he had done to her that first night. What was good for the witch was good for the wizard. She stopped kissing him and felt rather naughty as she looked down on his pale visage.

”You certainly are—aggressive,” he said to her, an odd look in his eyes.

”You have no idea,” Hermione said, sitting up on him and starting to unbutton his robes. He just watched her, not protesting as she slid back and pulled them open, revealing his thin body and huge erection wrapped in worn, slightly threadbare but comfortable grayish cotton briefs.

Hermione blinked at them, then looked up at Snape.

”Don’t you have anything other than worn-out underwear?” she asked him. “They’re not sexy, you know.”

Snape scowled at her for insulting his undies.

”What you call ‘worn’ I call comfortable. With a cock as big as mine, comfort is an issue,” he snapped at her. “These briefs are worn in all the right places and no matter how I shift and move about, I am not restricted and don’t chafe. You can’t purchase that kind of comfort. It has to be developed. I will go for ‘comfort’ rather than ‘sexy’ any day of the week. Besides—”

Snape suddenly pulled his huge cock out of its graying confines.

”It’s what’s in my briefs that is sexy—don’t you agree?” he purred at her, grasping the base and shaking his cock like a slightly rubbery club.

If Hermione hadn’t seen his long, thick tool before, she probably would have fainted or at least fled the bed. Snape smirked at her lewdly as she slowly shook her head as he shook his.

”With you shaking it like that, it’s more scary than sexy,” she said, although knowing what he could do with it was sending thrills through her.

Snape let it go, his black eyes softening as he gripped her waist and pulled her downward, brushing her hair out of her face as he gazed up at her.

”Never be scared of anything about me, Hermione,” he said softly. “I would never intentionally hurt you—although there will be less than perfect moments between us. You know how I can be. It is my nature, witch. But I have nothing but the best intentions towards you. As I said, you have my love, for what it’s worth.”

”It’s worth a great deal, Severus, believe me,” she told him, kissing him again before pulling away from his mouth.

”Let me show you how much,” she breathed as she tilted his head back and kissed his pale throat. She was still straddling his body, his robes still on his arms and opened, spread under him. She slid the fabric off his shoulder and kissed it, feeling him shudder as her lips moved over his skin. Her eyes cut to his face, and his eyes were tightly closed and his mouth slightly pursed as he savored the feel of her mouth on him this way.

Slowly Hermione pulled his arm out of the voluminous sleeve, kissing it, and bringing his hand to her mouth. She had a wicked thought and suckled his fingers. The wizard’s eyes flew open and he looked up at her, his digits in her soft warm mouth. He swallowed audibly, but said nothing as she licked his palm, and slipped her tongue between his fingers. She had never done this to Ron, but was moved to do it for Severus. He tasted like the desert, clean and hot.

She returned to his mouth, claiming it, the wizard letting her do what she wished and reveling in her attentions. This was so much more than he was used to and he wanted to see just how far she would go in her foreplay before he took over.

As Hermione began to kiss and lick his chest, suckling his nipples, nipping at his skin and slowly shifting lower, her lips and hands moving over his jerking belly and sides, he thought maybe she intended to go the distance. As she kissed his body, Snape caressed as much of her body as he could reach, his hands moving over skin and fabric. Suddenly, he gasped and arched as Hermione’s lips kissed the top of his thigh, and he felt her hot hand wrap around his organ. He quickly adjusted the pillows, moving upward, his breath quickening as she looked up at him.

”Do you want me to?” she asked him, holding his cock before her lip, her warm breath washing over him

Snape’s eyes were rather wet now. He almost couldn’t process all the emotions the witch was drawing out of him. He wasn’t used to such attention and it was almost overwhelming. He fought to keep from taking over, from moving back into the familiar, comfortable role of sexual aggressor. Up to this point he never realized how much giving was required to be taken, how much trust it required, how much toning down of the self was necessary to accept another’s control. It truly was a learning experience, and he wanted to learn, to experience more of what Hermione was showing him.

”Yes,” he said softly, then his eyelids fluttered as her warm mouth slipped over the head of his cock, all heat, softness and suction.

“Ahhhh,” he sighed with pleasure at the sensation and at the erotic sight of Hermione with her mouth wrapped around his organ. She began to bob gently, one hand catching the wetness of her saliva slipping down his shaft and spreading it over his skin like lube, then fisting him slowly.

“Hermione,” he purred, that rich voice dripping pleasure as she kissed her way down his length and took his balls into her mouth, rolling them gently, caressing them with her tongue, listening to him groan with pleasure. She had never really enjoyed fellatio with Ron. There was always a sense of him taking—with Severus, it felt like giving, as if she were in control.

And she was, as the wizard gently caressed her hair, not pushing her down or forcing anything, just accepting and appreciating her for the gift, and it was a gift. She didn’t have to do this. She wanted to, and that went straight to Snape’s heart, opening it even more for Hermione to enter. She kissed her way back up his shaft, nipping it lightly with her teeth, causing him to shudder, borderline nervous and borderline orgasmic. When she reached the tip, she kissed it and looked up at him.

Snape traced her lips with his finger-tip.

”You beautiful, sexy witch,” he said softly.

Hermione gave him a tender smile and returned to her worship of his body, Snape’s eyes rolling up into his head as she applied herself even more ardently, bringing him to the edge, his back arching, belly tightening. Helplessly, he locked his fingers in her hair and let out a quiet, ecstatic groan as he climaxed into her mouth, pleasure and surprise pouring through him as he released, Hermione staying with him until the last, dying pulse.

He hadn’t known she’d swallow.

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A/N: Thanks for reading

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