Epilogue

August 8, 1999

Snape and Hermione lounged, sharing tea, under their favourite tree in the Manor's garden.

"Honestly, Severus, I can't blame you for wanting to stay home today. I'd rather celebrate the anniversary of the end of the war like this anyway...even if we did manage to have fun at all those parties and balls and galas."

He snorted and quirked a lopsided grin. "I prefer our own celebrations. What was it you said back at Christmas? 'Decorum and all that'? Well, bollocks to that. Besides, I have more to celebrate today than just the end of the war."

"What's that?"

He set his tea aside and crawled closer, kissing her deeply and pressing her back onto the grass. He covered her body with his, and they settled into the comfortable rhythm of touching and snogging, hips rocking and grinding against each other. His lips trailed back to her ear and he murmured, "You saved me. And now you're with me here, all the time. I couldn't ask for anything better."

Hermione smiled at him, radiant with love, then bit her lip before purring, "Mmm, I could."

His eyes narrowed in thought. "Really? What would you ask for?"

Her grin turned predatory and she said, "You. Spread-eagled on the bed with those scarves. Cinnamon-flavoured oil rubbed into your skin. And me having my way with you."

His nostrils flared as he sucked in a deep breath, eyes flashing with desire. "My lady, your wish is my command."

Heat raced over her and she undulated beneath him, grinding her hips against his burgeoning erection. "Is that so, my lord? Well then, make it so."

A deep rumble answered her as Snape scrambled backward, pulling her up as he got to his feet. "Always."

They hastened to their bedroom, matching smiles of anticipation spreading their lips. As soon as they entered, Snape locked and silenced the door and flicked a spell at the bed that turned down the covers. Hermione Summoned the set of scarves, wafting them to drop at the foot of the bed, and pulled the potions bottles from the drawer in the nightstand to line them up within easy reach. The speed and efficiency with which they accomplished this division of labour implied a deep-seated familiarity, as did the utter lack of hesitation in the way they stripped down, eager eyes watching each other.

Hermione tilted her head toward the bed, and Snape nodded, climbing on and lying in the centre, stretching his arms and legs toward the four corners. His cock strained upward, bouncing slightly with his elevated pulse. Hermione flashed a wolfish grin and sent the scarves slithering over his body and down to his wrists and ankles, winding around and securing them to the bedposts.

She crawled over him, smirking as his body reached toward her, his muscles tensing and standing out along his lean limbs. Teasing, she met his lips for a languid kiss, pulling back when he groaned into her mouth.

"Hush now, love." He sank back onto the mattress, eyes dark as he watched her reach for the cinnamon massage oil and settle between his legs. She poured it into her palm, then rubbed her hands together as she surveyed the delicious sight before her.

She began just above the silk wrapped around his ankles, working her way up his legs with slow, smooth, kneading strokes. When she reached his hips, she skirted his groin, voicing a low chuckle at his growl of frustration, watching the glistening moisture as it welled up and trickled down his twitching cock.

Hermione shifted to one side, continuing her ministrations down one arm and then the other, slowing her strokes even more as she caressed his chest and circled his nipples, eliciting another deep, rumbling groan from her captive lover. Finally, she reached the end of the dark line of hair that trailed down his belly, spreading out to frame his now-desperately-throbbing erection. She crawled back between his legs and met his heavy lidded gaze as she gently grazed her fingertips over his balls and up his shaft.

His body seized, pulling at his restraints as he sucked in a ragged gasp, his head slamming back onto the pillow. Hermione grinned and wrapped her hand around him tighter, pumping his cock in her fist, causing more liquid to spill over onto her fingers, mixing with the remaining oil. She stroked him for a long moment, then backed away, knowing his responses so well that she could play his body like an instrument.

He panted, rebuilding his composure, knowing what was coming next. When she could see that he was ready, she retraced her path, only this time, with her tongue. The light, tickling sensation, followed by the cooling of his dampened skin, sent waves of goose flesh over his body and made his muscles spasm, jerking against the scarves.

As many times as they had done this, she always thrilled to the ecstatic moan that answered the first swipe of her tongue around the slick head of his cock. The taste of his precome mixed with the cinnamon flavour was like a sinfully decadent dessert, and she only allowed herself a few bobs down his length before backing away, making sure that it all wasn't over too soon. She slid up his body, dragging her stiff nipples over his chest and pinning him to the bed with a fierce kiss, letting him plunder her mouth in return, tasting himself on her tongue.

When she pulled away, he strained upward, trying to maintain contact, and she chuckled again. She locked eyes with him and shook her head. He gasped, licking his lips in anticipation. Hermione sat up, then moved up his body, shifting his arms and straddling his head. She could feel his rapid breathing, warm along her slick curls, and murmured, "What do you say?"

His answer was instantaneous. "Please. Oh, gods, please let me taste you."

She smiled and spread her knees, lowering herself further over his face. "Lick me."

He groaned, using his nose to part her lips so his tongue could follow, trailing through the juices coating her curls, evidence of how much she enjoyed having him at her mercy. He gloried in her scent and taste, tracing the patterns he had learned well in the past several months, delving into her cunt and sliding up to suck on her clit. She gripped the headboard, her hips moving to supplement his actions, losing herself to the pleasure. It was torture, being so close like this but unable to sink into her willing heat. He was so hard that he was beginning to ache with it.

Snape sped up as her responses changed. It wasn't much later that she cried out, convulsing and shuddering in orgasm as she ground down on his lapping tongue. He suckled at her swollen flesh, tasting the freshet of juices as they coated his cheeks and chin. He continued until she backed away, gasping at the onslaught and oversensitivity. Gingerly, she unlocked her grip from the headboard and squirmed back down his body, straddling his waist and feeling his dripping cock smearing against her back.

He lay there, panting even more, gazing up at her in adoration. Slowly, she leant down and kissed him, the faint tinge of cinnamon still on her tongue blending with the flavour of her come coating his lips. Snape knew his role now, and murmured against her mouth, "Please, Hermione. Please let me come for you."

She trailed nibbling kisses down his jaw and throat, licking up more cinnamon oil from his collarbones. "Mmm, you've certainly done well, my lord. Perhaps you deserve release. But how would you like to get there?"

Before he could answer, she rocked her hips, sliding her arsecheek along his erection. He voiced a hoarse grunt, then purred, "I need you. I need to be inside you. Please. Please let me fill your delicious cunt."

She shivered and moaned. "Oh, but I love when you say such naughty things with that sinful voice." She paused and kissed him again. "Yes, I would very much like that, too."

He sucked in a breath as she sat up, her knees squeezing around him tighter as she lifted up and angled her hips. His breath soughed out of him on a long note of bliss as she sank down onto his cock in one slow movement, adding a little grind once he was fully sheathed inside her.

They stayed motionless for a moment, staring at each other, reading the burning desire and love in their eyes. Then, they both inhaled and Hermione began a deliberate, slow, sensuous pace of riding him. Snape's eyes closed and he moaned at the sensation, but then he struggled to open his eyes to watch the erotic vision of Hermione's sinuous movements above him.

He had been so hard for so long that they both knew it wouldn't take too long for Hermione to wring his climax from his bound body. She gazed down at him in triumphant delight, her throaty purrs and breathy sighs sounding in counterpoint to his deeper grunts and rough panting. Sinking down onto him, she rocked her hips and squeezed his cock inside her, making him writhe against his restraints with a shout.

She squeezed him in a steady rhythm, watching his expression twist into a rictus of ecstasy, then employed the final step in her plan to make him come undone: quickly, she rose up, letting his erection slide out until only the head was within her, then started slamming down onto him with long, fast strokes, squeezing every time she was fully impaled. At that, Snape's hand clenched around the silk, muscles all over his taut body standing out in stark relief as he voiced a strangled cry, trembling as he came.

Hermione gentled her motions, drawing out every last shudder of his orgasm, then draped herself against him, muttering the spell to release his limbs...a bit of wandless magic she had perfected over the past several months...and smiling as he immediately wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up for a thorough kiss.

They lay quietly, snogging as their heartbeats slowed to a calmer rate, and Hermione voiced a dissatisfied noise when his flaccid cock slipped out of her. Snape took the opportunity to roll them over, then settle alongside her, still pressed tightly against each other, grazing lazy fingers over warm skin. Hermione nuzzled against his chest and inhaled, then said, "Mmm, you smell so good. Cinnamon spicy and sweet and Severus...my favourite combination."

Snape chuckled. "For now. Until you decide that you want a different flavour to be your favourite. Of course, any time you want anything, my skills are at your service."

She squirmed until she had pushed him onto his back and propped her chin on his chest, smirking at him with dancing eyes. "Oh, my lord, I always want your skills, and I do so enjoy you being at my service. Always."

He flashed a lopsided grin and murmured, "And, it is always a pleasure to serve...or service...you, my lady. Always."

They both dissolved into laughter, finally ending it with another scorching yet tender kiss, content to continue this celebration of post-war happiness for the rest of their lives.

*****The End*****