Kissy face
A Kiss is Just a Kiss...
Unless one of these authors is writing it! Then a first kiss becomes a most memorable experience. Come live vicariously through Severus and Hermione and some kisses that could make your knees buckle, your heart race and your head spin. Don't forget the smelling salts. We wouldn't want you swooning away before the story ends.
Thanks to all the quizlings who gave us their suggestions for fabulous first kisses! This wasn't just one of our theme title requests. This quiz required remembering specific passages of swoon worthy FIRST kisses between Severus and Hermione. And, boy did the fangirls come through! We thought they deserved individual acknowledgement.
The first fangirl who posts a perfect score will get to choose the next quiz. Who's our hopeful romantic?!
This week's quiz was chosen by dreamy_dragon73 who knows an awful lot about Professor Granger.
Match the quote to the story title:
Heart Over Mind by regann is one of somigliana's favorite first kisses.
Matrimony by ladyofthemasque is one of sshg316's favorite first kisses.
Calling Card by bambu345 is one of lady_rhian's favorite first kisses.
The Fire and the Rose by Abby and Domina is one of leandra713's favorite first kisses.
Master of Enchantment by subvers is one of writermerrin's favorite first kisses.
Cloak of Courage by wendynat is one of duniazade's favorite first kisses.
A Slip of the Tongue by ginny_weasley31 is one of laiksmarei's favorite first kisses.
The Room of Lost Dreams by mundungus42 is one of morethansirius's favorite first kisses.
Dances With Witches by pearle9240 (WIP) is one of tudorpot's favorite first kisses.
Fair Exchanges by fawkes_07 (WIP) is one of voxangelus's favorite first kisses.
Enraptured by sshg316 is one of mollyssister's favorite first kisses.
His Draught of Delicate Poison by subvers is one of ginny_weasley31's favorite first kisses.
1. “With a little forewarning, I can do better.”
He slowly advanced toward her, causing her to step back until she came up against the wall, his close proximity forcing her to crane her neck to meet his gaze. Her breath caught in her throat, and she was incapable of looking away from him.
He raised his hands, resting them upon the wall on either side of her head as he lowered his own, his hot breath wafting across her cheek as he moved to murmur in ear, “Shall I consider myself forewarned?”
She gasped, then whimpered when he lightly nipped her earlobe with his teeth.
“Y-yes!” she breathed, her eyes drifting shut.
“Good.” He retreated from her slightly, causing her to cry out in desperation, but then his mouth was on hers, and she was lost in a wave of overwhelming sensation.
***
Severus exulted in her surrender as he pressed his lips to hers once, then twice before removing his hands from the wall. She melted into his arms easily, her hands clutching the front of his robes as he drew her to him. Giving in to the desire that had plagued him for weeks - or maybe it was years - he plunged his hands into her hair, angling her head to allow him to deepen the kiss. He slipped his tongue in between her parted lips, slowly tangling it with hers. Ambrosia, he thought vaguely, the word somehow penetrating the fog of desire that was clouding his thinking. So succulent, so sweet. He wished he could taste her forever.
After several long, languid kisses, he lifted his lips from hers, a small smirk appearing as Hermione’s mouth attempted to follow him.
2. ‘I feel your fingers when you touch the pages. I felt you today when you touched me, and I felt your warmth, and I felt in you what I feel. If this isn’t real, Hermione, I don’t want to know what real is.’
And then he was kissing her, his mouth hot against hers and his hands pressed against her cheeks, as if to convince them both that she was really there. She wrapped one arm around his waist and threaded the fingers of her other hand through his hair, touching him, caressing him, trying to touch him as much as possible.
Severus flung his arms around her and pulled her fiercely to him. ‘Gods, Hermione,’ he gasped.
She breathed deeply, revelling in the way he smelled of balsam and something indefinably masculine. She nibbled the pale skin of his neck just above the collar of his robe, eliciting a low rumble in his throat that made his entire body vibrate.
Their mouths met again, feeling to Hermione like a heady combination of arousal and wonder, of declaration and exploration. His lips were firm on hers, his tongue gentle, and his hands stroked her hair, her shoulders, and her arms. Hermione felt as if she were flying, spiralling upwards into the sky as Severus kissed her.
3. In that breathless moment, when reality began to bleed into fantasy, there were no twinges and pangs for Hermione. Instead, there was only a hum in her veins and an unexpected surety of movement as she gathered all her courage and hope into a burst of action and closed the infinitesimal space between their mouths.
If there had been anything tentative left in Snape's reaction to her, it was lost in that moment; Hermione felt his arms tighten around her and his lips move against hers in ways she had only dreamed of; and there was fire in her blood and sparks of light in her brain and there was nothing but a singing triumph in her heart replacing the cold, wild fear of moments ago. The vino she had always loved tasted sweeter on his tongue than it ever had on hers, the subtle almond she had always missed in the flavor now exploding in her mouth. She could feel the slickness of his hair against her hands, the heavy roughness of his robes against her knees and she couldn't breathe because she was drowning but she was happy to die.
4. "Last chance, Hermione." His eyes were dark with lust as he watched her. His body was responding to the closeness of the witch in his arms. Her scent, the softness of her skin, the press of her breasts, and the hard nub of her nipples against his chest were overwhelming his senses. He found it hard to believe she wanted him as much as he wanted her. But her eyes reflected his lust, his desire. Her hips rocked against his hardened member in a dance as old as time.
Her eyes fluttered closed as she rose up on her tiptoes to meet his lips. He lowered his head to hers, embracing her passionately. The sparks flew, fanning the fire between them.
Their kiss held the promise of unrestrained passion as it moved them into uncharted waters. Severus had meant to take it slow. This was not to be a one-night stand but the heat of the moment seemed to be devouring them. He wanted more than just sex from her, however his straining member was vehemently protesting that thought. The voice in his mind spoke up, 'You may not be some hormonal teenage, but just feel the heat coming from this witch. Just think how good she will feel wrapped around you. Just lift her up and go for it I say. Do you think she is wearing The Thong?' A small portion of his mind wondered how he could go about exorcising the voice in his head. The rest of his mind and all of his body was focused on Hermione. Slow or not, a bit of snogging could not hurt.
Severus's tongue pressed against her lips, seeking entrance. His tongue found its way into the hot, wet cavern of her mouth. Their tongues danced against one another, learning the feel of each other, tasting one another. His hands played over the gentle curves of her body, enjoying the sound of her moans as they kissed. His hand drifted to the side of her body as he slowly brushed his fingers against the side of her breast, drawing a groan from the aroused witch, a groan that seemed to travel straight to his groin. His hand continued its path down her side to caress her hip before drawing her forcefully back into his embrace.
Electric shocks were coursing through Hermione's blood. She could feel the pounding of Severus's heart as he crushed her to his chest. Her head swam with the intensity of her feelings, with the undeniable feeling of pleasure as her body responded to his touch.
5. Hermione sucked in a startled breath as her unexpected husband abruptly tucked one arm around her waist and swept her over that arm, bending her just enough that, when he stooped over her, the differences in their heights evened out. Which, given how short she was and how tall he was, left them braced at a very dramatic angle.
"Try to look like you're enjoying yourself, Miss...Mrs. Snape," he corrected himself, and captured her mouth with his. He half-swallowed her gasp of surprise as they kissed, amazed a little himself at the sweet flavour of her lips. He heard the door open with a burst of sound as the justiciar-witch's silencing charm was broken, but didn't really hear a word of the harridan in question stammering to a halt mid-tirade, upon being confronted by the sight of her great-niece half-dangling in a clinch with a stranger.
He heard his wife's--his wife's!--faint whimper of what sounded like enjoyment, the moment their lips parted from the first kiss; he heard it and pressed her closer for a second taste, lifting her body into his, rumpling the soft cotton of her nuptial outfit. He felt the twining of her arms around his shoulders, the looping of her wrists over the back of his neck, felt the threading of her fingers through his hair as she returned the kiss with equally increasing enthusiasm. Lust blossomed in his veins, drugging his unprepared, unsuspecting senses. Knowing the girl had a true passion for learning wasn't the same as knowing she had another kind of passion buried deep within her bookish exterior; it was a rather pleasant discovery.
With great reluctance, he finally ended the kiss, straightening the two of them. She clung to him, lifting herself almost off her toes in the need to keep the nibbling of their lips going for as long as possible, but finally their mouths parted. Eyes opened slowly, their toffee-and-licorice depths meeting, each a little dazed at the depth of the experience.
6.
Hermione’s eyes shone like sun-graced topaz, almost golden in their incandescence, and the heat of her regard charred Severus’ doubts into ash. A frisson of awareness shot through him, and he held his breath for the words that would make or break him.
This time, Hermione didn’t abort her inclination, and her small, neatly-manicured hand rested on his forearm - his tainted left forearm. Her voice was almost breathless, and slightly trembled from the intensity of the moment. “My feelings? My feelings. Severus, my feelings for you have only deepened with time, so much that I can scarce tell if any of my heart remains my own.”
“Gods, Hermione…”
Severus couldn’t continue and his voice broke. The rapier-witted Potions Master of Hogwarts let his actions speak for him as he pulled his willing witch roughly into his arms and crushed her mouth with his, savoring the reality of her sweetness. He completely disregarded the fact that they were standing in the middle of a sacred shrine in a country which frowns upon public displays of affection. He ignored the fact that he frowned on public displays of affection. He forgot that he was the staid, taciturn black bat of the dungeons, one who’d deduct house points for any student he found in as public an embrace. Instead, he marveled that the one witch who mattered most to him in the world -- regardless of how recent that epiphany had been -- was in his arms.
Hermione was here, in his arms, and nothing else mattered at that moment.
Or the next.
After several long, very satisfying minutes of mutual exploration, when the necessity for oxygen seemed paramount, they broke their kiss. Hermione gave a small and happy sigh, nestling her face against his neck. Severus could feel her inhale his scent and a primordial sense of male pride rippled through him with the thought that she actually found him appealing.
Hermione snuggled closer to him and, even though she’d loved her husband, her desire for this wizard was something she felt in every cell of her body. He’d been her ideal in terms of selfless, tenacious perseverance, and she’d loved Severus for a very long time. He called to her soul in a way nothing and no one else in her life had. She was mesmerized by the rumble of his voice, even as she felt it through his chest.
“I wanted to thank you for your gift. I cannot express how much it has meant to me.”
7. Snape’s avid eyes drank in her face, her dark eyes flashing in indignation, her chin lifted in her familiar combative attitude. She was magnificent. He told her, “What I said was that it would be quite something to know you in private life - and I was right; it has been quite something.” The arm placed innocently along the back of the seat behind her head moved to her shoulders and he jerked her to him, his face descending. “It has been maddening, appalling, beguiling - and I want to know more,” he breathed, his lips plunging to capture hers in a bruising kiss.
Hermione felt the pressure of his mouth upon her own, was overwhelmingly aware of his hair swinging down to curtain them both, and could not prevent her eyes from closing in sheer abandon as her greedy hands reached out to signify her approval of this course of action. One hand grasped the lapel of the Muggle mack he wore as the other hand slid under his hair to caress the back of his neck.
When he felt her fingers on the bare skin at his nape, he gasped, his lips leaving hers to trail a path to her throat, where he groaned, “Hermione,” before lifting his head to look down at her face. Seeing her closed eyes, her dark eyelashes feathered across her fair skin, he kissed her again.
Hermione thrilled at the sensation of his lips on her throat, felt as a physical sensation his uttering of her name in that broken groan, as if he was speaking a holy thing aloud. For a moment, he moved away from her, but she scarcely had an instant to grieve his absence before his lips came to hers again. Very soon, she was clutching at him as the only solid entity in an inexplicably swirling universe. The despicable man began to move his lips over hers, the pressure of the last kiss gone, now kissing the corner of her mouth, now nibbling her lower lip, teasing, coaxing, until she gasped. Taking the opportunity offered by her parted lips, his tongue slipped into her mouth and the sensations of the kiss multiplied ten-fold with the increased intimacy of this caress. She felt as if he was devouring her and she eagerly offered herself up for his delectation, timidly moving her tongue to touch his, unsure if he would welcome this active participation on her part. His reaction to this move was to moan directly into her mouth, as if he was unwilling to relinquish his possession of her lips for the space of time necessary to do the thing properly. Soon, though, he raised his face from hers and her eyes opened.
Snape’s heart was racing as if he had just run a sprint and his breathing was a bit uneven as he looked at Hermione’s lips, swollen from his kisses; her head lay against his shoulder and she watched him with wondering eyes. The only sensible course of action seemed to be to kiss her again.
8. The music and babble of the Hall faded rapidly away until the only sounds were his soft footfalls and softer breathing. Snape's heart thudded in his ears, though.
He slipped through the office and knocked on the private chambers' door, suddenly uncharacteristically shy.
The door swung silently open and he entered, hearing the catch click shut as the door swung back behind him. Hermione stood by the fireplace; her hair was more disarrayed than usual, as though she had been dragging her hands through it. The room was warm, the fire lit and built up. She looked up as he stood there, and he saw her eyes glittering in the candlelight; not tears, but something more elemental - and Snape tried to convince himself that it was nothing more than a reflection of his own feelings.
That conviction was rendered impossible as they met without speaking in the middle of the room and Snape found himself, for the second time in half an hour, enfolded in an embrace and the touch of lips on his.
This time, though, there was no disgust and nothing to make him pull away; only a burning need to get closer and to open to both the embrace and the kiss.
The fire cracked and hissed behind them as a log split on the fire; neither noticed and Snape felt only Hermione against him, around him. All sensation narrowed to her, the sensation of completion and utter abandonment of each in and to the other; the pressure of her warm, soft, mouth on his - tension dissolving between them as they came closer still and, in the end, Snape knew only Hermione. Nothing else existed and nothing else mattered, right here and right now.
9. “Hermione…” the silky tones of his voice caused her heart to speed its rhythm. He took her hands in his and gazed down at her intently, an unreadable look in his black eyes. “I am aware that this is not the most… ideal… situation for either of us. But I do promise you that I will do whatever I can to make it as… painless… as possible. Trust me.” He had bent his head towards her as he spoke, and she licked her lips unconsciously.
In a shaky voice, she whispered. “I told you earlier - I do trust you… but… thank you, still.”
That familiar calculating expression appeared on his face, but it was gone even before she could begin to analyze it. Gone, and replaced with another expression entirely. An expression which made her mind go numb, unable to remember to breathe, much less analyze anything. Her breath froze in her lungs, and she watched him with wide eyes as he spoke.
“Hermione…” He leaned over slowly, very slowly… slow enough that she could pull away without embarrassment, but she didn’t want to pull away… no, she didn’t want to pull away at all…
Her eyes drifted shut as he brushed his lips against hers… softly… so very softly… his lips were warm, smooth… he pressed them against hers once, twice… a chaste pressure, but so much more to her mind…
She was swimming, floating… enjoying the chaste kisses that had her head whirling far more than any so-called passionate kiss she had ever experienced. She leaned into him, her hands tightening in his, an excited flutter in her stomach accompanying the answering pressure of his fingers against hers.
They pulled back slowly, and she kept her eyes closed for a time. When she finally opened them, she saw him watching her with that calculating gaze again… and a strange feeling of uncertainty stole over her. He seemed to sense this, and pulled one hand away from hers to stroke her cheek silently. Her eyes fluttered closed once more, and she heard him murmur, “I will do what I can.”
10. “You didn’t want me.” It was presented as a statement, but he heard the hurt, the uncertainty.
“Whether I wanted you or not was immaterial.”
She stared at him. “Immaterial to whom, exactly?”
She had the satisfaction of seeing his lips tighten, and some vestige of his usual scorn. “Oh, use your brain, girl! What thirty-eight year old heterosexual male with a PULSE would not want a beautiful eighteen year old female?”
Her look became contemplative, and in the manner inimical to all the members of her sex, she chose the one extraneous word in his entire question to pursue. “Beautiful?” she asked.
The annoyance left his face, his mouth relaxed, and his lips parted slightly, his eyes warming to a searing gaze as he slowly looked his fill at her wondering eyes, her trembling lips, her proud breasts in the crimson dress, down to her embraceable waist, her mesmerizing hips, all the way down her shapely legs to her pretty feet. Then he took his time, letting his eyes make the return trip up her body, letting her see every emotion and desire upon his face as it crossed his mind, until he was looking into her eyes, unmasked and unreserved.
“Beautiful,” he reiterated, his voice hoarse.
He could barely breathe as he watched her crawl across the bed, and then he had an armful, and a lapful, of crying, laughing, caressing, kissing Hermione. Severus put a hand to the back of her head and returned her kiss very thoroughly, slipping his tongue through her parted lips, teasing and tasting her mouth, caressing her tongue with his own, showing her how it felt to be wanted by him -- how it felt, to be so beautiful. The shared pulse was pounding in them, her sweetly timid tongue was in his mouth, her hands in his hair, her delicious little bum resting on the hardest erection of his entire life; when he gently sucked her tongue, she moaned audibly into his mouth, and it took all of his self-control to tenderly end the kiss. He embraced her trembling body for another moment, then he stood and sat her down on the edge of the bed.
Her voice made a small sound of protest as he broke the contact between them, pressing a final, wrenching kiss on the palm of her hand, and stepping back away from her.
Her impassioned gaze questioned him without words. “We haven’t said all the things we need to say,” he said softly, letting her hear his own longing, not trying to hide from her the evidence of his arousal. “If I’m touching you, I won’t be able to speak to you coherently.”
Unless one of these authors is writing it! Then a first kiss becomes a most memorable experience. Come live vicariously through Severus and Hermione and some kisses that could make your knees buckle, your heart race and your head spin. Don't forget the smelling salts. We wouldn't want you swooning away before the story ends.
Thanks to all the quizlings who gave us their suggestions for fabulous first kisses! This wasn't just one of our theme title requests. This quiz required remembering specific passages of swoon worthy FIRST kisses between Severus and Hermione. And, boy did the fangirls come through! We thought they deserved individual acknowledgement.
The first fangirl who posts a perfect score will get to choose the next quiz. Who's our hopeful romantic?!
This week's quiz was chosen by dreamy_dragon73 who knows an awful lot about Professor Granger.
Match the quote to the story title:
Heart Over Mind by regann is one of somigliana's favorite first kisses.
Matrimony by ladyofthemasque is one of sshg316's favorite first kisses.
Calling Card by bambu345 is one of lady_rhian's favorite first kisses.
The Fire and the Rose by Abby and Domina is one of leandra713's favorite first kisses.
Master of Enchantment by subvers is one of writermerrin's favorite first kisses.
Cloak of Courage by wendynat is one of duniazade's favorite first kisses.
A Slip of the Tongue by ginny_weasley31 is one of laiksmarei's favorite first kisses.
The Room of Lost Dreams by mundungus42 is one of morethansirius's favorite first kisses.
Dances With Witches by pearle9240 (WIP) is one of tudorpot's favorite first kisses.
Fair Exchanges by fawkes_07 (WIP) is one of voxangelus's favorite first kisses.
Enraptured by sshg316 is one of mollyssister's favorite first kisses.
His Draught of Delicate Poison by subvers is one of ginny_weasley31's favorite first kisses.
1. “With a little forewarning, I can do better.”
He slowly advanced toward her, causing her to step back until she came up against the wall, his close proximity forcing her to crane her neck to meet his gaze. Her breath caught in her throat, and she was incapable of looking away from him.
He raised his hands, resting them upon the wall on either side of her head as he lowered his own, his hot breath wafting across her cheek as he moved to murmur in ear, “Shall I consider myself forewarned?”
She gasped, then whimpered when he lightly nipped her earlobe with his teeth.
“Y-yes!” she breathed, her eyes drifting shut.
“Good.” He retreated from her slightly, causing her to cry out in desperation, but then his mouth was on hers, and she was lost in a wave of overwhelming sensation.
***
Severus exulted in her surrender as he pressed his lips to hers once, then twice before removing his hands from the wall. She melted into his arms easily, her hands clutching the front of his robes as he drew her to him. Giving in to the desire that had plagued him for weeks - or maybe it was years - he plunged his hands into her hair, angling her head to allow him to deepen the kiss. He slipped his tongue in between her parted lips, slowly tangling it with hers. Ambrosia, he thought vaguely, the word somehow penetrating the fog of desire that was clouding his thinking. So succulent, so sweet. He wished he could taste her forever.
After several long, languid kisses, he lifted his lips from hers, a small smirk appearing as Hermione’s mouth attempted to follow him.
2. ‘I feel your fingers when you touch the pages. I felt you today when you touched me, and I felt your warmth, and I felt in you what I feel. If this isn’t real, Hermione, I don’t want to know what real is.’
And then he was kissing her, his mouth hot against hers and his hands pressed against her cheeks, as if to convince them both that she was really there. She wrapped one arm around his waist and threaded the fingers of her other hand through his hair, touching him, caressing him, trying to touch him as much as possible.
Severus flung his arms around her and pulled her fiercely to him. ‘Gods, Hermione,’ he gasped.
She breathed deeply, revelling in the way he smelled of balsam and something indefinably masculine. She nibbled the pale skin of his neck just above the collar of his robe, eliciting a low rumble in his throat that made his entire body vibrate.
Their mouths met again, feeling to Hermione like a heady combination of arousal and wonder, of declaration and exploration. His lips were firm on hers, his tongue gentle, and his hands stroked her hair, her shoulders, and her arms. Hermione felt as if she were flying, spiralling upwards into the sky as Severus kissed her.
3. In that breathless moment, when reality began to bleed into fantasy, there were no twinges and pangs for Hermione. Instead, there was only a hum in her veins and an unexpected surety of movement as she gathered all her courage and hope into a burst of action and closed the infinitesimal space between their mouths.
If there had been anything tentative left in Snape's reaction to her, it was lost in that moment; Hermione felt his arms tighten around her and his lips move against hers in ways she had only dreamed of; and there was fire in her blood and sparks of light in her brain and there was nothing but a singing triumph in her heart replacing the cold, wild fear of moments ago. The vino she had always loved tasted sweeter on his tongue than it ever had on hers, the subtle almond she had always missed in the flavor now exploding in her mouth. She could feel the slickness of his hair against her hands, the heavy roughness of his robes against her knees and she couldn't breathe because she was drowning but she was happy to die.
4. "Last chance, Hermione." His eyes were dark with lust as he watched her. His body was responding to the closeness of the witch in his arms. Her scent, the softness of her skin, the press of her breasts, and the hard nub of her nipples against his chest were overwhelming his senses. He found it hard to believe she wanted him as much as he wanted her. But her eyes reflected his lust, his desire. Her hips rocked against his hardened member in a dance as old as time.
Her eyes fluttered closed as she rose up on her tiptoes to meet his lips. He lowered his head to hers, embracing her passionately. The sparks flew, fanning the fire between them.
Their kiss held the promise of unrestrained passion as it moved them into uncharted waters. Severus had meant to take it slow. This was not to be a one-night stand but the heat of the moment seemed to be devouring them. He wanted more than just sex from her, however his straining member was vehemently protesting that thought. The voice in his mind spoke up, 'You may not be some hormonal teenage, but just feel the heat coming from this witch. Just think how good she will feel wrapped around you. Just lift her up and go for it I say. Do you think she is wearing The Thong?' A small portion of his mind wondered how he could go about exorcising the voice in his head. The rest of his mind and all of his body was focused on Hermione. Slow or not, a bit of snogging could not hurt.
Severus's tongue pressed against her lips, seeking entrance. His tongue found its way into the hot, wet cavern of her mouth. Their tongues danced against one another, learning the feel of each other, tasting one another. His hands played over the gentle curves of her body, enjoying the sound of her moans as they kissed. His hand drifted to the side of her body as he slowly brushed his fingers against the side of her breast, drawing a groan from the aroused witch, a groan that seemed to travel straight to his groin. His hand continued its path down her side to caress her hip before drawing her forcefully back into his embrace.
Electric shocks were coursing through Hermione's blood. She could feel the pounding of Severus's heart as he crushed her to his chest. Her head swam with the intensity of her feelings, with the undeniable feeling of pleasure as her body responded to his touch.
5. Hermione sucked in a startled breath as her unexpected husband abruptly tucked one arm around her waist and swept her over that arm, bending her just enough that, when he stooped over her, the differences in their heights evened out. Which, given how short she was and how tall he was, left them braced at a very dramatic angle.
"Try to look like you're enjoying yourself, Miss...Mrs. Snape," he corrected himself, and captured her mouth with his. He half-swallowed her gasp of surprise as they kissed, amazed a little himself at the sweet flavour of her lips. He heard the door open with a burst of sound as the justiciar-witch's silencing charm was broken, but didn't really hear a word of the harridan in question stammering to a halt mid-tirade, upon being confronted by the sight of her great-niece half-dangling in a clinch with a stranger.
He heard his wife's--his wife's!--faint whimper of what sounded like enjoyment, the moment their lips parted from the first kiss; he heard it and pressed her closer for a second taste, lifting her body into his, rumpling the soft cotton of her nuptial outfit. He felt the twining of her arms around his shoulders, the looping of her wrists over the back of his neck, felt the threading of her fingers through his hair as she returned the kiss with equally increasing enthusiasm. Lust blossomed in his veins, drugging his unprepared, unsuspecting senses. Knowing the girl had a true passion for learning wasn't the same as knowing she had another kind of passion buried deep within her bookish exterior; it was a rather pleasant discovery.
With great reluctance, he finally ended the kiss, straightening the two of them. She clung to him, lifting herself almost off her toes in the need to keep the nibbling of their lips going for as long as possible, but finally their mouths parted. Eyes opened slowly, their toffee-and-licorice depths meeting, each a little dazed at the depth of the experience.
6.
Hermione’s eyes shone like sun-graced topaz, almost golden in their incandescence, and the heat of her regard charred Severus’ doubts into ash. A frisson of awareness shot through him, and he held his breath for the words that would make or break him.
This time, Hermione didn’t abort her inclination, and her small, neatly-manicured hand rested on his forearm - his tainted left forearm. Her voice was almost breathless, and slightly trembled from the intensity of the moment. “My feelings? My feelings. Severus, my feelings for you have only deepened with time, so much that I can scarce tell if any of my heart remains my own.”
“Gods, Hermione…”
Severus couldn’t continue and his voice broke. The rapier-witted Potions Master of Hogwarts let his actions speak for him as he pulled his willing witch roughly into his arms and crushed her mouth with his, savoring the reality of her sweetness. He completely disregarded the fact that they were standing in the middle of a sacred shrine in a country which frowns upon public displays of affection. He ignored the fact that he frowned on public displays of affection. He forgot that he was the staid, taciturn black bat of the dungeons, one who’d deduct house points for any student he found in as public an embrace. Instead, he marveled that the one witch who mattered most to him in the world -- regardless of how recent that epiphany had been -- was in his arms.
Hermione was here, in his arms, and nothing else mattered at that moment.
Or the next.
After several long, very satisfying minutes of mutual exploration, when the necessity for oxygen seemed paramount, they broke their kiss. Hermione gave a small and happy sigh, nestling her face against his neck. Severus could feel her inhale his scent and a primordial sense of male pride rippled through him with the thought that she actually found him appealing.
Hermione snuggled closer to him and, even though she’d loved her husband, her desire for this wizard was something she felt in every cell of her body. He’d been her ideal in terms of selfless, tenacious perseverance, and she’d loved Severus for a very long time. He called to her soul in a way nothing and no one else in her life had. She was mesmerized by the rumble of his voice, even as she felt it through his chest.
“I wanted to thank you for your gift. I cannot express how much it has meant to me.”
7. Snape’s avid eyes drank in her face, her dark eyes flashing in indignation, her chin lifted in her familiar combative attitude. She was magnificent. He told her, “What I said was that it would be quite something to know you in private life - and I was right; it has been quite something.” The arm placed innocently along the back of the seat behind her head moved to her shoulders and he jerked her to him, his face descending. “It has been maddening, appalling, beguiling - and I want to know more,” he breathed, his lips plunging to capture hers in a bruising kiss.
Hermione felt the pressure of his mouth upon her own, was overwhelmingly aware of his hair swinging down to curtain them both, and could not prevent her eyes from closing in sheer abandon as her greedy hands reached out to signify her approval of this course of action. One hand grasped the lapel of the Muggle mack he wore as the other hand slid under his hair to caress the back of his neck.
When he felt her fingers on the bare skin at his nape, he gasped, his lips leaving hers to trail a path to her throat, where he groaned, “Hermione,” before lifting his head to look down at her face. Seeing her closed eyes, her dark eyelashes feathered across her fair skin, he kissed her again.
Hermione thrilled at the sensation of his lips on her throat, felt as a physical sensation his uttering of her name in that broken groan, as if he was speaking a holy thing aloud. For a moment, he moved away from her, but she scarcely had an instant to grieve his absence before his lips came to hers again. Very soon, she was clutching at him as the only solid entity in an inexplicably swirling universe. The despicable man began to move his lips over hers, the pressure of the last kiss gone, now kissing the corner of her mouth, now nibbling her lower lip, teasing, coaxing, until she gasped. Taking the opportunity offered by her parted lips, his tongue slipped into her mouth and the sensations of the kiss multiplied ten-fold with the increased intimacy of this caress. She felt as if he was devouring her and she eagerly offered herself up for his delectation, timidly moving her tongue to touch his, unsure if he would welcome this active participation on her part. His reaction to this move was to moan directly into her mouth, as if he was unwilling to relinquish his possession of her lips for the space of time necessary to do the thing properly. Soon, though, he raised his face from hers and her eyes opened.
Snape’s heart was racing as if he had just run a sprint and his breathing was a bit uneven as he looked at Hermione’s lips, swollen from his kisses; her head lay against his shoulder and she watched him with wondering eyes. The only sensible course of action seemed to be to kiss her again.
8. The music and babble of the Hall faded rapidly away until the only sounds were his soft footfalls and softer breathing. Snape's heart thudded in his ears, though.
He slipped through the office and knocked on the private chambers' door, suddenly uncharacteristically shy.
The door swung silently open and he entered, hearing the catch click shut as the door swung back behind him. Hermione stood by the fireplace; her hair was more disarrayed than usual, as though she had been dragging her hands through it. The room was warm, the fire lit and built up. She looked up as he stood there, and he saw her eyes glittering in the candlelight; not tears, but something more elemental - and Snape tried to convince himself that it was nothing more than a reflection of his own feelings.
That conviction was rendered impossible as they met without speaking in the middle of the room and Snape found himself, for the second time in half an hour, enfolded in an embrace and the touch of lips on his.
This time, though, there was no disgust and nothing to make him pull away; only a burning need to get closer and to open to both the embrace and the kiss.
The fire cracked and hissed behind them as a log split on the fire; neither noticed and Snape felt only Hermione against him, around him. All sensation narrowed to her, the sensation of completion and utter abandonment of each in and to the other; the pressure of her warm, soft, mouth on his - tension dissolving between them as they came closer still and, in the end, Snape knew only Hermione. Nothing else existed and nothing else mattered, right here and right now.
9. “Hermione…” the silky tones of his voice caused her heart to speed its rhythm. He took her hands in his and gazed down at her intently, an unreadable look in his black eyes. “I am aware that this is not the most… ideal… situation for either of us. But I do promise you that I will do whatever I can to make it as… painless… as possible. Trust me.” He had bent his head towards her as he spoke, and she licked her lips unconsciously.
In a shaky voice, she whispered. “I told you earlier - I do trust you… but… thank you, still.”
That familiar calculating expression appeared on his face, but it was gone even before she could begin to analyze it. Gone, and replaced with another expression entirely. An expression which made her mind go numb, unable to remember to breathe, much less analyze anything. Her breath froze in her lungs, and she watched him with wide eyes as he spoke.
“Hermione…” He leaned over slowly, very slowly… slow enough that she could pull away without embarrassment, but she didn’t want to pull away… no, she didn’t want to pull away at all…
Her eyes drifted shut as he brushed his lips against hers… softly… so very softly… his lips were warm, smooth… he pressed them against hers once, twice… a chaste pressure, but so much more to her mind…
She was swimming, floating… enjoying the chaste kisses that had her head whirling far more than any so-called passionate kiss she had ever experienced. She leaned into him, her hands tightening in his, an excited flutter in her stomach accompanying the answering pressure of his fingers against hers.
They pulled back slowly, and she kept her eyes closed for a time. When she finally opened them, she saw him watching her with that calculating gaze again… and a strange feeling of uncertainty stole over her. He seemed to sense this, and pulled one hand away from hers to stroke her cheek silently. Her eyes fluttered closed once more, and she heard him murmur, “I will do what I can.”
10. “You didn’t want me.” It was presented as a statement, but he heard the hurt, the uncertainty.
“Whether I wanted you or not was immaterial.”
She stared at him. “Immaterial to whom, exactly?”
She had the satisfaction of seeing his lips tighten, and some vestige of his usual scorn. “Oh, use your brain, girl! What thirty-eight year old heterosexual male with a PULSE would not want a beautiful eighteen year old female?”
Her look became contemplative, and in the manner inimical to all the members of her sex, she chose the one extraneous word in his entire question to pursue. “Beautiful?” she asked.
The annoyance left his face, his mouth relaxed, and his lips parted slightly, his eyes warming to a searing gaze as he slowly looked his fill at her wondering eyes, her trembling lips, her proud breasts in the crimson dress, down to her embraceable waist, her mesmerizing hips, all the way down her shapely legs to her pretty feet. Then he took his time, letting his eyes make the return trip up her body, letting her see every emotion and desire upon his face as it crossed his mind, until he was looking into her eyes, unmasked and unreserved.
“Beautiful,” he reiterated, his voice hoarse.
He could barely breathe as he watched her crawl across the bed, and then he had an armful, and a lapful, of crying, laughing, caressing, kissing Hermione. Severus put a hand to the back of her head and returned her kiss very thoroughly, slipping his tongue through her parted lips, teasing and tasting her mouth, caressing her tongue with his own, showing her how it felt to be wanted by him -- how it felt, to be so beautiful. The shared pulse was pounding in them, her sweetly timid tongue was in his mouth, her hands in his hair, her delicious little bum resting on the hardest erection of his entire life; when he gently sucked her tongue, she moaned audibly into his mouth, and it took all of his self-control to tenderly end the kiss. He embraced her trembling body for another moment, then he stood and sat her down on the edge of the bed.
Her voice made a small sound of protest as he broke the contact between them, pressing a final, wrenching kiss on the palm of her hand, and stepping back away from her.
Her impassioned gaze questioned him without words. “We haven’t said all the things we need to say,” he said softly, letting her hear his own longing, not trying to hide from her the evidence of his arousal. “If I’m touching you, I won’t be able to speak to you coherently.”