Chapter Seven

VII.

...

"I am not your professor right now, Mione. Not in here," Severus reminded her, lifting a hand to stroke her curls. The weight of her body against his chest was warm and comforting. As intimate as he'd imagined. "Within these walls, I am merely your husband."

"You couldn't be 'merely' anything, even if you tried," Hermione retorted, unwrapping and unscrolling the missive. She glanced over the contents, and blushed. "Erm...you want me to read this aloud?"

"Please."

A polite, respectful, request from the sour bastard of the dungeons wasn't something one normally expected to hear. Hermione wondered for a moment at how different he really was, in private. Licking her lips to moisten them, she began.

"Instructions for the Care of Severus Sebastian Granger-Snape when in Private:

"Treat gently, unless begged to be playfully, consensually rough.

"Hug frequently. A minimum of half a dozen hugs per day are necessary to keep your Granger-Snape healthy and happy...please remember to embrace high on the chest, or very low around the waist, to avoid putting pressure on a certain scar.

"Kiss frequently. Suggested areas include the lips, the nose, the forehead, the throat, and the hands, in no particular order. Other areas should not be neglected either, ranging from nipples to knees, nape to groin.

"Worship the nose. Your Granger-Snape is sensitive about its size and shape, and thus must be reassured constantly it isn't overly hideous."

Severus slid his hands from her shoulders to her ribs, massaging her lightly through her nightgown as she continued to read his handwriting aloud.

"Stroke the hair. Your Granger-Snape is unable to change its plainness and greasiness (a result of hovering over steaming potions all day long), but loves having his locks gently tugged, petted, and to be scratched behind the ears and along the nape. Also, gentle scratches under the chin are not amiss, especially late in the day when the evening's stubble has reached that dreadfully itchy stage, and early in the morning before your Granger-Snape has had a chance to shave.

"Massage the back. Granger-Snapes are notoriously high-strung, with stiff, proper posture. Backrubs are necessary to induce bone-melting pleasure.

"Licking the Granger-Snape is usually recommended in most instances, but not after eating liver-and-onions, milk-based products, or other odiferous foods, unless proper dental hygiene techniques have been utilized as well. Suggested locations for licking the Granger-Snape include the lips, the throat, the ears, the elbows and wrists, between the fingers, the sternum and nipples, the navel, the loins, the knees, the ankles, and the toes.

"Suckling on the fingers, toes, nipples, throat, earlobes and loins of your Granger-Snape is highly recommended.

"Care should be taken to avoid tickling the soles of your Granger-Snape's feet; spasmodic jerking, shouts of laughter, and dangerous thoughts of retaliation may ensue."

His hands shifted from her ribs to her breasts, gliding up under her arms. Using just his fingertips, Severus circled the nubs that were her nipples, stimulating them. Her voice faltered, her breath hitched, and her head arched back a little. He could see little goose-spots prickling down her arms, and was content with his effect on her. Cupping her breasts fully in each hand, he gently massaged her flesh.

"E-Endearments should be used spontaneously and somewhat frequently, but not excessively, nor gratuitously. They will be treasured all the more by your Granger-Snape if they aren't overused.

"Teeth should definitely be used on your Granger-Snape, but used relatively gently; he enjoys love-bites during foreplay and lovemaking, but cannot risk being bruised or marked at this point in time, even if his normal mode of dress would hide almost any mark his owner cares to make..."

Hermione's eyes fluttered closed at the word 'owner'. Well, it was a combination of that and the way he was gently rolling her silk-covered nipples between his forefingers and thumbs. Her eyes flew open again as he scraped his thumbnails over the tips of her breasts.

"Continue, my wife. Read the rest of the instruction manual," Severus murmured, enjoying her reactions to his written words and his careful caresses.

Dazed, Hermione eyed the scroll somewhat warily. The instructions grew increasingly more explicit, the further down she skimmed. It was the final instruction that made her pause, however. Licking her lips, she read it silently, memorized it, then lobbed the scroll at the low table in front of the settee before reciting the last line in a husky voice,

"...Love your Granger-Snape with all of your heart, for he loves you with all of his."

Severus smiled, shifting one hand to her forehead, smoothing her curls out of his way. Pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, he slid his hand down her cheek, throat, and shoulder, winding up with her breast caught in his palm once again. "Ah. The best part. Do you like the manual? Do you think it will be quite useful?"

She liked the way his hands were caressing her through her Transfigured nightgown, making it a little difficult for her to think. Still, Hermione gathered her wits, covering the backs of his hands with her own. "I'm afraid I didn't read all of it. I was...distracted by someone playing with his own new Granger-Snape without reading her instruction manual, first. Of course, I haven't written it, yet..."

"Well, until you do, I suppose I'll have to experiment very carefully in the meantime, and see how my own Granger-Snape reacts. I do have one question," Severus murmured, the organ in his chest beating a little faster, in trepidation.

"And that is...?"

"What...what does the last line of your own manual say?"

There. He had asked the question foremost in his mind. In a roundabout manner, but it was asked. Does she love me yet? Severus wondered as she didn't move, and didn't respond. Not for a while. ...Or am I pushing this moment too fast, and too far?

Hermione knew she hadn't answered, yet. She knew also that the man she reclined against was all but holding his breath, he was so still and quiet himself, waiting for her answer. He had leapt out onto a limb this morning, declaring that he loved her. Of course, he had done so in an arrogant way, claiming the right to protect her for her own good without consulting her...if she had chosen to retreat from their relationship, now that she knew who Rus was. But I didn't choose to retreat, she remembered. I chose to leap, too. And really, why should he be any more courageous than me?

Am I in-love with him? ...Yes, a bit...more than a bit, she acknowledged with a blush as his hands moved slightly underneath her own, sliding the silk of her gown over her areolas. But do I love him? She'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop this afternoon and this evening, for him to revert to his usual nasty self when they were alone...but he wasn't being nasty.

She knew Professor Snape was a private man, keeping his true thoughts and feelings very much to himself, but it occurred to her that she really was beginning to see Severus' actual innermost thoughts and feelings, through his letters to her as Rus, and through his actions now, holding very little back from her. And I like this man, Hermione decided. I like this man very much. But is that love?

Squirming carefully around in his embrace, she twisted onto her hip, turning her upper body so that she could look up at his face. It wasn't a handsome face, no, but it had character and strength. This wasn't a boy she'd chosen to marry; this was a man, experienced, intelligent, and confident, all traits that she admired. Those midnight eyes weren't cold; they were warm, warmer than she had ever seen them before today, though there was a trace of worry in them, too.

Goodness! He actually fears my answer; he's lowered his defenses for me, farther than I've ever seen them, and he knows he's taking a serious chance in exposing his vulnerabilities. I think I could honestly break his heart, with the wrong word or phrase... Her heart ached at the thought, and that made up her mind. Squirming just a little bit more, she wrapped her arms around his chest, resting her cheek on his skin as she embraced him. His own arms closed hesitantly around her. Poor thing, Hermione thought as his arms tightened after a moment and a sigh escaped his chest. He hasn't been hugged very often, has he? No one to give him any affection, physical or otherwise...no wonder hugging was listed so high in his silly, wonderful 'instruction manual'!

...I'd better answer him, shouldn't I? Before he thinks the wrong thing. A final squeeze, and she lifted her head, meeting his gaze. Some of the fear and worry had eased, but not all of it. Holding him with eyes and arms, Hermione revealed her choice. "My manual says almost the exact same thing as yours."

He licked his lips. "...Almost?"

"Yes. Just some different pronouns, nothing to worry about," she dismissed as lightly as she could, given her heart was pounding in her chest.

Severus felt his heart squeeze in a harder than normal beat. Lifting his hand to her hair, he smoothed a few of the curls back from her face, cupping the back of her head. If he read her right... It wasn't enough. He needed the actual words. "Say it. Please..."

She couldn't resist such quiet pleading. Wriggling a little higher, so that their heads were almost level, Hermione looked into his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and said it. In fact, she said it several times, in several ways, to make sure he understood her. Instinct said this self-contained man was secretly a man of many emotional insecurities, and her feminine instincts said the best way to heal those insecurities was to be very, very thorough when addressing them. So Hermione firmly and irrevocably addressed them.

"I love you, Severus. I choose to love you. I am in-love with you. However many ways it can be said, Severus Snape, I do love y..."

The hand at the back of her head tightened in her curls, pulling her mouth to his. His lips captured hers, conquered and plundered her mouth. The lump digging into her stomach, which had diminished somewhat over the past few minutes, soon prodded her with increasing insistence once again. It was hard and somewhat uncomfortable, but exciting to her, too. She could have given in to the moment very easily...if it weren't for the way he clutched her to him. That put a little too much stress on her back, for her shoulders and chest were aligned with his, but her hips and legs were still lounging sideways between his thighs.

Uncomfortable, Hermione pulled back, breaking their kiss. The confusion and worry in his eyes made her heart ache. He must be thinking I'm trying to put an end to this... Shifting her hand to his lips, she murmured, "Shh...I just think there's a better place to do this than on the settee...don't you?"

Midnight eyes darkened and gleamed. Releasing her, Severus helped her to sit up, then stand. Rising after her, he made her squeak in surprise when he swept her up into his arms, cradling her against his bare chest, wand clutched in the hand hooked around her knees.

Blinking in surprise, clutching quickly at his shoulders, Hermione managed a coherent, "...Severus, put me down! I'm too heavy!"

"You're not too heavy, Hermione. And even if you were, I'd be glad of it; you're certainly not a child anymore...a fact for which I am deeply grateful," he muttered, striding into his bedroom. A thump of his heel closed the door. "It's bad enough you will still be my student for all intents and purposes for several more months...I look forward to the day when we are free to be ourselves."

Setting her on her feet next to the bed, he released her arms from his neck, kissed each of her palms, then reached for a pair of small silver goblets set on his nightstand next to a small, empty bottle, and a shallow little jar. Picking up the goblets, he dropped his wand in their place. Offering her one, he saluted her with the other and knocked back its contents. A shudder of distaste, and he set the emptied metal cup back down.

In a show of absolute trust, Hermione swallowed her own as well, and did so without asking first what it was. She, too, grimaced and licked her lips in disgust at the flavour. Copying him, she returned her cup to the nightstand next to his own. Only then did she finally enquire, "...So. What was that?"

"A contraceptive. I wasn't sure if we'd go this far, tonight, but I didn't want to leave anything to chance." Catching her hand, Severus tangled her fingers in his, tugging her gently up against him. His dark eyes searched hers, half-shuttered but glittering with emotion, with need. "This is your last opportunity to leave, Mione. If you stay...I may slow down if you ask me to, but I do not think I will be able to stop. If you do stay, Hermione, this marriage will be consummated. I'm only a man, and I can only withstand the temptation of you for so long."

His voice, low and husky, promised a night of things she didn't even know, yet. Shivering, Hermione freed her hand from his. This was the point of no return, for both them. She did feel a little nervous, even scared, but looking up into those dark eyes, into a gaze that had terrified her in years past, Hermione suddenly felt calmness welling up from somewhere deep within her soul. This was the right moment, the right man, and the right thing to do.

Holding his gaze steadily, without any trepidation, she reached up with both sets of fingers and tugged gently on the bow-ties of her nightgown. The satin cords slipped free of their knots...and the silvery dress slithered down over her body, puddling at her feet. Baring her from head to hipbones, from thighs to feet, and showing off the silvery, bow-tied knickers girding her loins.

Every inch of Severus' body hardened. Her nipples had budded, rasped by the falling material; her breasts were neither overly large nor undeservedly small, handfuls begging to be caressed. He wanted to trace his fingers, his lips over the line of her ribs, the dip of her waist. Those satiny little ties to either side begged to be drawn free, silently pleaded for that scrap of material guarding her final secrets to fall as well as her gown. Every muscle and pertinent organ of his body hardened with the conflicting desires warring within him. To grab her and take her and sate himself within her, and yet to take his time, an eternity if need be, to bring her own passions to an equal, feverish boil.

Her hands lowered to her sides, then plucked at the ties of her knickers, preparing to release them. Severus struck quickly, catching and holding her wrists. Manacling them, he gave her a dark, fiery look, and a single, growled word.

"Mine."

Breathless at the primitive, fierce, primal expression carved on his face, Hermione watched as he dropped to his knees. Shifting her hands away from her sides, he released them and feathered his own fingertips over the satiny bows. Resisting the urge to giggle, Hermione held her breath, watching those long fingers toying with the ties. Slowly, he pinched one of the ends dangling from one knot and tugged, until the bow unraveled with a little jerk. His other hand did the same as he switched attention to that side, until only the half-knots of the ties and the positioning of her legs kept her knickers in place.

"Part your thighs."

It was a soft command, but it speared straight through her belly, igniting twists of lightning through her nerves. Lips parted as she panted in anticipation, Hermione shuffled her feet apart until they were spaced wider than her shoulders. Unsure where to put her hands, she finally lifted and clasped them behind her neck.

Severus made the mistake of looking up, tracking the movement of her arms. The position she unconsciously took, the stance of a surrendering prisoner, shot a fierce, possessive lust through him. His control snapped. Grabbing the front of her knickers, he tore the ties free and flung them away with his right hand. Twisting, he ducked between her thighs, bracing his weight on his left hand. She squeaked at the touch of his cheeks between her thighs, instinctively widening her knees, giving him more room to maneuver. Perfect. Groaning, drugged by her scent, Severus buried his face in her delicious, thoroughly damp folds.

Hermione gasped and wobbled. This was...this was... This was a hell of a lot more intimate than she'd ever experienced, before! A groan dragged its way out of her throat as she lowered her hands for balance. All she could grasp was his chin, as he licked and sucked, so she slid her hands up her stomach, instinctively cupping her breasts. She needed, stronger than she'd ever felt any other, similar need before under her own self-explorations. Flicking, licking, moist and warm and wet, circling, suckling...her hips bucked. Unable to take any more of it and still keep her balance, Hermione staggered free and half-fell, half-crawled onto the bed.

Down on the floor, Severus growled as his prey staggered away, escaping him. But she wasn't escaping him; she was climbing onto the bed, flushed and panting. Severus' eyes glittered with possessive emotions as she flopped over onto her back, knees parted, hands stroking her breasts, her belly, her thighs with a soft, needy moan. Shoving his boxers off so that he wouldn't have to contend with them later, Severus crawled after her, licking his lips to savour her salty-sweetness. She was his to pursue, after all.

Catching her by the ankles when he reached the side of the bed, Severus pulled her firmly across the coverlet, making her squeak. Kneeling on the floor next to the bed, he hooked his hands under her knees and pulled her thighs up and wide. Without preamble, he reburied his mouth in her crevasse, suckling and licking, claiming his prerogatives. Hermione shouted in surprise, a wordless cry followed by a gasping shudder. Her hands clutched at his head, digging into his hair. Little massaging motions and sharp tuggings encouraged him as he loved her flesh with his mouth, savouring her taste, growling softly as he marked her with his lips and his teeth. The one thing he carefully did not do was penetrate her vaginal opening, but everything else, yes, he did plenty of that.

Hermione writhed as pleasure speared through her nerves. Abandoning his hair, she clutched at the covers, trying to anchor herself as her world spiraled dizzily out of control. Words crawled out of her throat, half-delirious, half-pleading. "Oh, yes...yesss...higher...harder! Sev...Severusss, oh god! Almost...almosssst...more more more moremoremoremoremohhhhh god! Oh god, Rus!"

Head arching back against the bedding, body stiffening, Hermione cried out wordlessly as her orgasm swept over her, the most powerful one she could remember enduring. Breath shuddering in her lungs, every muscle trembling, she quivered as she soared. Then slumped as she fell. He didn't stop, though. Quivers rippled through her body, triggered almost randomly by the effects of his continued feasting.

Severus couldn't stop himself. Her feverish cries incited him, and her flavour enticed him. She was here, she was in his bed, and she was his; he was finally doing what he had fantasized about for the past few months, what he had finally allowed himself to fantasize about after her birthday, and it was as good as he had hoped. With her thighs draped over his shoulders, twitching occasionally in time with the clenching of her depths and the grunting of her inarticulate cries, his hands clutching her hips, he carefully, hungrily, greedily nuzzled her moisture from her depths with his mouth.

It had been too long since his last sexual encounter, not counting this morning's little adventure. Shortly after drinking that complex, revealing draught, Severus had debated visiting a wizarding brothel down in Diagon Alley that he had used in the past when his physical needs had grown too bothersome to ignore. He had debated the matter, and finally discarded it. If Hermione was slated to be his true love...if he even had a fated true love, a truly mind-boggling concept...Severus had decided he would not muck about with that fate by fooling around with someone else who would mean nothing to him. Even before they'd exchanged more than half a dozen letters, he'd known instinctively that it would not 'mean nothing' to her. Self-administration had become his only outlet.

But now she was here, in his chamber, in his bed, in his arms, and his long spell of celibacy was blissfully at an end. One thing was absolutely, unequivocably certain in his mind: he'd give his wife the best damned time of her life while she was in his bed, even if he had to castrate himself to do it. Luckily, he didn't think that would have to be an option. Severus sucked her juices from her skin, then withdrew his attentions. Later, he'd do more of this to soothe her femininity, but that would be after her deflowering.

Whispering a collection-spell against her inner folds after several moments, Severus removed his face, licking his lips to savour the last lingering bits of her unique, musky flavour. With the pads of his fingers, he tickled her labial folds, swirled and teased the peak of her clitoris. But this position wasn't conducive to what he wanted to do next; it was time to move both of them fully onto the bed.

Abandoning her lower half, Severus rose, scooped her into his arms, and placed her in the center of his bed. But on the coverlet wouldn't do. As she pushed up onto her elbows, he pulled the bedding down, making her squirm to get it out from under her. Stretching out beside her, Severus reached toward her thighs as she twisted onto her side. He intended to stimulate her some more. Her own arm got in the way, as did the startling, thrilling feel of her own fingers brushing against his turgid flesh. Desire burned through him, making him suck in a sharp breath. She hesitated, uncertainty clouding her gaze about whether or not to continue her explorations.

Severus debated the moment, her uncertainty versus her curiosity, and made up his mind in a single heartbeat. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel inhibited in their marriage-bed. Clasping her wrist, he kept her from retreating. "Please continue, Mione. I liked that."

She searched his gaze, as if gauging the sincerity of his urgings, then shifted her eyes to his nakedness. Relaxing onto the bed, Severus released her hand, giving her free rein to touch him. Another hesitation, and she shifted her hand to more neutral territory, high up on his chest. Her fingers played with the fine dusting of dark hairs that feathered across his pectorals before gathering into a thin dark line that plunged down past his navel to his groin. She didn't follow that path yet, though. Instead, she shifted a little closer, and examined his chest more intensely.

He'd known it would be erotic to be the focus of her concentration; she was very much like him in that regard, passionate about whatever she chose to study. Now she was studying him, and it was arousing and titillating to be the focus of her attentions, coupled as they were with her innocent, exploratory touches. His breath sucked in again as she ghosted her fingertips over one of his nipples; that made her glance quickly at him for confirmation. Normally a taciturn man...it was never wise for a spy to be verbose...Severus forced himself to say the words she needed to hear. They emerged in a rough, aroused tone.

"That felt very good, too. I...felt it up in my throat, under my chin...and down in my belly, into my groin. They're very sensitive," he added, gesturing vaguely with one hand at his chest.

She blushed, but caressed his areola a second time. Her fingers took their time, circling the tiny nub of his nipple. Tiny, compared to hers. Severus found the idea of reaching over to caress her own nipples in return a tempting one, but resisted. Instead, he tucked his arms beneath his head. This was her opportunity to explore him, and he would let her do so unhindered and undistracted. She flattened her hand against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart, then slid it over his pectoral muscles. Meandering down to his abdomen, she traced the line of his ribs; the leanness of his muscles made each ridge stand out a little bit more, giving her little dips and swells to investigate.

Her fingers tickled the fine line of hairs down the center of his stomach, then dipped into the shallow well of his navel, exploring its semi-puckered state. That made him shudder; all the nerve-endings of his lower stomach, so close to his jutting arousal, warned Severus just how close he was to embarrassing himself again. Debating briefly, he decided it was wisest to let her fondle him to a climax; right now, he couldn't trust himself to take her maidenhead properly, as he had planned in advance, nor to last long enough to teach her to enjoy the delights of intercourse. Better to climax first, and be able to last longer on the second bout...Merlin, won't she ever get around to touching my ruddy prick?

Impatient with the way she stroked his left hipbone carefully, almost shyly, which was near enough she didn't run the risk of brushing against his rampant manhood, Severus shifted his right hand free of his head. Reaching down and across his body, he caught her wrist, lifting her hand in his. "As delightful a torment as your explorations may be, Mione, you need to summon your Gryffindor courage and...grasp the most important issue at hand."

Suiting action to words, Severus moulded her fingers around his shaft, squeezing them just a little to make sure she grasped him firmly. Releasing her fingers, he re-tucked his hand behind his head, stomach tensing with pleasure as she tentatively squeezed him again.

"Erm... This is embarrassing," his young wife confessed, blushing, "but...what do I do? All the trashy novels say I'm...um...supposed to stroke you, but...I don't know how."

Severus let out a silent sigh of relief. At least she didn't find the actual touching of him to be embarrassing, just her own inexperience. Honesty, he decided, was probably the best policy in handling this matter. "To be blunt, you could touch me right now in any way short of trying to physically yank the damned thing off, and I would probably find it highly arousing. But...the liquid, at the tip, smear that around to moisten your hand, clasp me just firmly enough to apply a little pressure, and stroke up and down, circling my shaft as much as you can with your fingers."

Face still charmingly pink, Hermione complied, spreading the droplets of precum over his glans, then attempting to stroke him. His skin caught and pulled, somewhat pleasurably, somewhat painfully, as her hand transitioned from the damp areas to the dry. That made his breath hiss through his teeth, and she looked up at his face quickly. "It's...it's not wet enough, I think."

Merlin, I'm going to go insane... Carefully, resisting the urge to clear his throat, Severus suggested as gently as he could, "Then perhaps you should find some other way to lubricate it?"

Half expecting her to leap off the bed and duck into the bathroom in search of a jar of pomade or something, Severus nearly wept when she stared at it speculatively for a moment, licked her lips...and shifted position on the bed, lowering that glistening mouth to his groin.

Don't cum don't cum don't cum don't cum... It was a groin-tightening, buttock-clenching mantra, absolutely necessary from the moment those warm, damp lips, and that soft but textured tongue of hers moistened the head of his penis. She licked her lips again...he could see a frown as she analyzed the flavour of his pre-cum...and paused for a moment, then dipped down again, licking his shaft all the way around. When she took him into her mouth again, the pressure of her lips was lighter than he wanted to feel.

"Mione...harder. Suck a little, and stroke a little harder with your lips, and your fingers...holy!" Streaks of pleasure lanced through his body as she complied. She was a fast learner...he hadn't told her to swirl her tongue over the tip of him like that! "Sweet Merlin!"

His stomach muscles crunched. His bollocks tightened, and tingled in warning. He had two, maybe three seconds to save her from himself. Freeing a hand, he delved his fingers into her hair, tugging gently with a barked command.

"...Up!"

She sat up a little, startled as she tried to look at him.

"Stroke!" Severus commanded. Demanded, as she blinked. Pleaded, as she tentatively wrapped her hand around him again, "Stroke...stroke stroke stro...ohhhh...Goddess!" His testicles tightened sharply as she complied, his gut clenched, his prick twitched...and the pulsing, shuddering spasms swept his semen out of him, spurting it up in milky-white jets that started a gasp out of her, and dragged a groan out of him as her hand stilled. "More...more, Mione! Keep going!"

He could feel, vaguely through the pleasure rioting through his nerves, the semen splattering warm and wet on his belly as she quickly fumbled her way back to stroking him again. A few drops landed on his thighs, some of it even striking his ribs as her hand stroked him a bit wildly in her startled inexperience. It was all he could do to not clutch her hair painfully tight. Refraining from doing so meant spreading his fingers wide, but he managed it, not wanting to hurt his wife. Severus moaned in pleasure as she continued to stroke him, stiffening his limbs as he thrust up from the hips, rubbing himself against the slick ring of her fingers to prolong his pleasure. She wasn't gripping him as firmly as before, but that was alright; it suited the post-orgasmic sensitivity of his skin.

"Mione...Mione...my own," he breathed as the need to thrust slowly diminished, until it was only her own fingers that continued to gift him with such delightful friction. Sighing as even that slowed into uncertainty, Severus slipped his hand out of her hair. Gently caressing her shoulder and the arm propping her upright, he tugged lightly on her elbow, encouraging her to lie down next to him. When she complied, he arranged things so that his left arm cradled her close. From this close, he could see her uncertainty over the mess he had made on her fingers, her palm, and his own skin. Chuckling, he nudged her close enough to kiss her forehead, enjoying the post-orgasmic bliss seeping through his limbs. "Thank you. That was wonderful."

"Is it...erm..." She gingerly took her hand away from his semi-deflated shaft, eyeing the liquid coating her palm.

"Always this messy?" he asked lightly, and enjoyed her blush. "When that happens, yes. At least to some extent. When I do it to myself, I often cover the tip with my other palm, and try to catch most of it in my hand. That makes it easier to clean up, afterwards." Her face flamed red, and Severus smirked. "What, didn't you think I attended to my own needs? Surely you've masturbated yourself in the privacy of your own bed, late at night?"

"Well...yes, but...it's embarrassing to talk about it," she confessed, speaking to his chest rather than looking up at him.

Severus tugged her a little closer and kissed the curls on the top of her head as the nearest part of her. He quelled the impatient urge to retort that she was a grown woman now, reminded himself firmly that she was still a virgin, and instead said mildly, "It may be embarrassing to talk about right now, yes, but it's completely natural, and perfectly healthy. I'd be more worried about those idiots who denied themselves the task and its delights. That would be unnatural and unhealthy. Especially as it's excellent for relieving stress."

She stiffened for a moment. Then giggled, surprising him. A peek upwards, and she blushed, but giggled again. "I, um, don't think you do it nearly often enough, given how stressed-out you normally act..."

"Such daring cheek!" he mock-rebuked her, smiling. "And yes, that would be the truth. To be fair...a rare state for me, I know...I should warn you that your blushes only further rouse the Slytherin urge within me to see how many more of them I can evoke in you, Hermione."

"Hmph! See if I ever blush again, around you!"

He grinned, at that. Shifting his right hand out from under his head again, he smirked at her, trailed a finger through the ropy puddles on his abdomen, and offered her some of the slightly sticky liquid. "Would you like a taste?"

She blushed, hard and fast, just as he thought she would. But, daringly, his young wife stuck out her tongue, lapping delicately at the liquid on his fingertip. She wrinkled her nose a little. "It's very salty, and kind of...it kind of stings, when I swallow. But it's not bad. Not really. Certainly it's better than sushi."

That made him snort in mock-indignation. "Really! Comparing the taste of me to the Muggle oddity of eating raw fish!"

"No, I think that's called sashimi. Sushi is different; it's rice and seaweed wrapped around cooked fish, for the most part. Fish, salmon-eggs, crabmeat, cucumbers..." Tentatively, she trailed her finger through the mess on his skin, and tasted it again. Entrancing him with the simple, sensual act. A slow nod of her head confirmed it. Even the seriousness by which she examined the sample of jism, the scholarly approach, aroused him. "...Yes, definitely better than sushi. Probably not nearly as healthy or as filling, though."

That provoked another snort from him, this time in laughter. "Only you would think of that, Hermione! ...I thank you for making me laugh," he added, tugging her close with his left arm for another kiss of her curls. "Pass me my wand, will you? I wish to clean up a little."

Stretching, she fetched his wand and watched as he tapped his groin, muttering the cleansing charm he wanted. Cleaned from chest to knees, Severus tapped her hand next, cleaning that as well, then let her put his wand back on the nightstand. When she was done with that, she cuddled up next to him, tucking her forearm on his chest and pillowing her head on his shoulder and bicep. One knee even daringly crept over the top of his thigh. He liked the feel of her cuddled against him, including the softness of her breasts. And he liked the way she was being particularly careful of applying too much pressure to the purplish-red gash that was his curse-borne scar. But there was something about her relaxed pose that made him wonder if she thought they were done for the night.

They most certainly were not.

He didn't do anything for another minute or two, however. Partly to allow himself time to recover, and partly to lull her senses with some simple, naked physical contact. Virgins, in his admittedly limited and less-than-ideal experience, weren't likely to be very comfortable with their own nudity, let alone anyone else's. He wanted her to be absolutely comfortable with both of them being naked around each other, and being naked a lot. They were married now, after all.

Finally, he spoke, addressing her softly. "...Are you ready for more, my love?"

Her head shifted at the endearment, letting her look up at him. Severus had used it deliberately. He wanted her to know he loved her, and know it as firmly as she knew that down was down and up was up...as assured as the tug of gravity was on a magicless Muggle. That was the only way to protect her, after all...and as he had gradually fallen for her over their year-plus of steady, secret correspondence, it was the truth. Endearments weren't easy for him to use; they came to his lips after so many years of sarcasm and scorn awkwardly, almost unnaturally. But that was out there, in the halls of the school. Not here in the privacy of his own quarters, where he could finally be himself after too many years of being otherwise. Where he could practice all the sweet nothings he wanted, now that he had someone to practice with.

"Yes, love. Beloved," she returned, trying out the endearment on her own. The second version seemed to fit better; at least, his heart skipped a beat, and she didn't seem quite as hesitant in using it as she had the first. Rewarding her with another kiss, Severus scooted away from her just far enough to comfortably twist into his side, and pushed her gently back against the sheets. Starting with her nose, he bathed her face in gentle kisses. Pleased when she returned them, brushing her lips over his own features with a lift of her head, he mated their mouths together. Hands cupping the back of her head, supporting it for her, Severus took his time in devouring those sweet lips, in tasting that savoury tongue.

Not until her hands roamed and tugged restlessly at his shoulders, his arms and chest, did he shift his attention to other parts of her body. Once again, he took his time in bringing her back into the full expanse of her arousal; the only thing he did not do was sup the dew from her nether-regions; that was collecting at the entrance to her femininity for a very specific reason. The scent beguiled and tempted him, but Severus resisted, biting gently at the inner flesh of her thighs, licking her knees, even suckling her toes until she gasped and shuddered and clawed at the bedding.

As Hermione panted, trying to find enough coherency to plead with him to finish the burning need he had imbued in her flesh with each stroke, each caress, he parted her restless legs, settling his hips between her thighs. Though his earlier release had taken much of his original urgency from his blood, Severus found himself enthralled now by her whimpering voice, that bitten lower lip, the way her hands clutched at his skin, at his arms and his chest. She widened her thighs, lifting her knees so that she could rock up into him.

Sucking in his breath against the need to thrust before he was prepared, Severus reached down and caught her chin, stilling her restless movements, encouraging her to look up at him, to focus on him.

"Mione...I would like your permission to do something," he told her as soon as her eyes blinked and cleared.

"Wh-what?" she managed to ask.

Taking a breath, he plunged into his question, speaking calmly, but feeling himself tremble on the inside, cringing from the thought of a rejection, or worse, a bad reaction to his request. "I would like to collect your maiden's blood. Freely given, it is a very potent ingredient, yet difficult to acquire, and...very expensive to purchase."

She laughed.

From the puzzled look that pinched his face, Hermione guessed he hadn't expected her to start chuckling. But she did. That was such a...such a Severus thing to think about, in the middle of lovemaking. "You thinking about collecting ingredients during...erm, all of this, is like my researching it...you do realize that, don't you?"

Some of his confusion cleared, and his lips twisted slightly in a rueful smile. "I suppose it is amusing, isn't it? It's just that I have the opportunity to collect the most powerful variant, awakened to the power of your sexuality, but...unpenetrated."

"But...I've, erm, penetrated myself, with a finger," she told him, trying not to blush. "For cleaning and, erm, feminine purposes. Hygiene ones. And been examined by a Muggle doctor, down there."

"Self-penetration isn't a problem. But the doctor...male or female?" he asked her, frowning softly.

"Female, of course! As if I could stomach the idea of a male doctor examining me down there!" she snorted.

"Then you are still pure. Medical examinations do not count, nor do the needs of...feminine hygiene. It is penetration with a sexual purpose, or penetration by a male, that would lessen the quality," he lectured her. Then stopped and flushed slightly. "Not that I would think less of you. This is just strictly from a potions perspec..."

Hermione covered his lips with her fingertips. "I know what you're talking about. And...if you think I qualify for your needs, you have my freely given permission to collect as much as you can."

He shifted his head, freeing his mouth. "If I did that, you would likely kill me for inflicting the sheer pain involved. No, I will be gentle, and only collect what occurs from that much effort, and no more."

"...How expensive is virgin's blood?" Hermione asked, curious.

"Very."

"How 'very' is 'very'?" she pressed. "A galleon a dram?"

"A hundred galleons for a single drop is the cheapest I have ever seen...and there is usually a waiting-list to get even that much." The look he gave her was sardonic at best. "Most witches squander their virginity in quick liaisons with untried youths. Or lose them in Dark Magic rituals, of late," he admitted, not quite meeting her eyes, "but a rape negates most of the potency, requiring that large amounts be used, and forceful means used to collect it. I've...been asked to collect such results more than I care to remember."

"I thought you said you've never...?"

"...I haven't!" he quickly reassured her. "But I had to be close at hand to collect the...results," Severus muttered unhappily, "as the Dark Lord's pet Potions Master."

Lifting her hands to his face, Hermione cupped his cheeks. "You do what you must, and you do it not only to survive, but to help us bring this war closer to a successful end. Your efforts are not in vain, Rus. And this moment is not the same as those." Carefully, enunciating her words clearly, Hermione told him, "I give you my freely granted permission to gather as much of my maiden's blood as you can."

"Hermione...the pain involved...numbing agents, whether they are potions or spells, cannot be used in the moment of rending, because they taint the quality of the ingredient," he warned her. "I cannot collect it painlessly, thus I must collect it gently, and gently is not the same thing as thoroughly!"

"I'm not an idiot; I knew that even doing it the regular way, for regular reasons, it would hurt," Hermione pointed out, giving him a borderline exasperated look. "I even know it will continue to hurt for the first few times afterwards! But all those other times we can use spells or potions or whatever. This one time...I'm telling you that I trust you completely. That I'm giving you my virginity and my virginal blood absolutely freely, as much as you can gather and not actually kill me," she tried to tease. The anguish shadowing his eyes made her humor fall flat. Caressing the cheeks in her hand, Hermione met his gaze steadily. "You can always heal me afterwards, once you've collected what you can. In the meantime, I'm prepared for pain and discomfort. You've given me a level of pleasure I didn't know I could feel, for my wedding-gift. Let this be my gift to you, in return. Take my virgin's blood, Severus."

...Author's Whinge: I want my very own Snape, replete with Snape Instruction Manual!!