The Drabbles continue

Hermione simply wanted to get into their room, behind a closed door.

Closed, and locked.

The Muggle standing in front of that door was impeding her goal.

His enthusiastic greeting included thrusting a piece of shiny paper towards them. His toothy smile didn’t quite mask disapproval at their obvious intent to abandon decorum as soon as possible.

Severus looked the man up and down dismissively.

“Unnecessary. We’ve got plenty of reading material.” He gestured to Hermione’s bulging bag of books.

Hermione stifled a giggle and tried to steady her shaking hands as she struggled to unlock that damned door.

**

She felt the heat of his body behind hers. Her shaking hands fumbled, his steadied them.

Finally.

The instant the lock clicked shut his arms were around her again.

His were trembling, too.

She wrapped herself around him, her breath hot against his neck. She brought her lips to the juncture of his neck and jaw and impulsively swept her tongue across his skin.

Salty.

She heard his growl of pleasure in the same instant that she felt his hands move to cradle her face, thumbs stroking her cheekbones.

He looked like he was trying his utmost to restrain himself.

**

He has so many shields...

“Severus, come here.” Hermione stepped away from him and tugged lightly on his hand.

Despite his confusion, he followed her into the large bathroom. Silently, she reached into the tub to turn on the water.

“What are you doing, Hermione?” he asked nervously.

“Well,” she replied, “we’ve been travelling such a long time; I thought that bathing might be refreshing.”

Before he could offer more than a startled nod, she started to unhurriedly unfasten her blouse. His mouth slightly agape, Severus stood, transfixed.

As the room rapidly filled with steam, they reached towards one another.

**

Layer upon layer fell to the floor, fingers unfastening. Reverent.

Unlocking.

Uncovering.

Desire building, still they paused in awe and recognition of shields relinquished.

She drew her hands along his lightly muscled chest and traced the faint line of hair to his navel. He stroked her collarbone and ran his fingertips down her arms until he had both of her hands in his.

Eyes swept hungrily over flushed skin.

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. His breath grew ragged as his gaze followed her tongue.

His eyes glinted with anticipation as he led her to the falling water.

**

The warm water flowed over them both, washing away residue accumulated over years.

Severus wrinkled his nose at the hotel soaps, but Hermione smiled and lathered him liberally until he did the same to her.

Under the flowing tap, drenched with the cleansing water, Severus threw back his head and laughed.

The rich, joyful sound of his delight sent a shiver through her and made her acutely aware that despite the intimacy of their current situation, they had yet to kiss.

She brought her fingers to his lips, stroking, questioning.

“Oh, yes, Hermione.”

He lowered his lips to stroke hers.

**

The first touch of his mouth was electric.

Oh, Circe...

Everything until this moment was preparation, prelude.

His lips were firm and warm, tender tracing of his tongue conveyed every nuance of his desire and bewilderment at his welcome. Each stroke of his tongue, each nip of sharp teeth drew a moan from a point deep in her core.

Primal.

She stood in the rushing water, swept away by the rhythms of their kiss and the tantalizing proximity of his bare skin. His body was so close; she wanted to feel every inch of him.

“Take me to bed, Severus.”

**

He Apparated them to the bed.

“I love magic,” she murmured between ravenous kisses.

“Mmmm, love...” he echoed, distracted by his attention to the swell of her breasts.

It felt as if he was memorising her body, mapping her inch by inch. His mouth, that clever tongue, those nimble fingers—taking her in and worshipping her at once.

“Severus, please,” she moaned, incoherent with need. “Next time we’ll take our time.”

“Next time?” Wonder in his voice.

“Yes, next time. And the time after that,” she murmured, her breath hot. “I intend for this to just be the opening act.”

**

The heat in his eyes seared her soul.

His hands followed the graceful line of her thighs until they reached their juncture and, without breaking his gaze, caressed her until her moans reached a crescendo.

“Oh, please, please. Now, Severus. Now!”

At last, he moved to sheath himself inside her. Fingers laced, eyes locked, they found their rhythm.

At last.

“Oh, Hermione. Oh... oh!” His voice was rough, and his long groan of pleasure sent resonant shivers through Hermione.

Their voices mingled, cries of passion woven with whispers of truths untold.

“Never... never like this before,” he rasped.

“No, never.”

**

“Only you,” she whispered roughly, her lips brushing the shell of his ear as his thrusts became more erratic.

“Yes... yes...” he affirmed, his body shuddering with imminent completion.

Their bodies knew the dance. Bathed in him, she was all sensation. His thrusting body, the scent of Severus and soap, and the taste – oh, the taste of his mouth – drove all thought from her mind.

Then she was there, riding the crest, the intensity of her climax roaring through her as she cried out.

He was there, too, calling out as they both broke into a thousand shards of light.

**

To be continued...