Verse 3

I was determined that we wouldn't consummate our passionate yearnings on my sofa, so when we came up for air, sometime later, I wrapped my arms around her bum and lifted her from my lap and our comfortable repose in front of the fireplace. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around my neck. Rather impishly, she began nibbling around my earlobe and down my neck.

“Dammit, girl! Do you want me to drop you?” I snapped playfully. I felt her smile against my throat before she blatantly disregarded my warning. Wench.

Shifting her weight slightly, I gave her a playful swat on her arse cheek. She started and then giggled against my skin. Her fingers resumed their explorations of my scalp and neck, and her lips and tongue mapped my throat and jaw. A pleasant chill stole up my spine and much to her delight, I'm sure, I shivered. Her fingers stilled themselves and she laid her cheek on my shoulder as we stepped through the door to my bed chamber.

“I must say, Severus,” she intoned as she slid from my arms, “I'm glad I caught you without your frock coat on... If I'd had to undo all those buttons, we'd never get anywhere!”

“Hmmm... I've got a better use for that mouth than smart comments,” I growled at her. It had the desired effect. Her soft cheeks were stained pink, and I reached out and traced her jawline. Her eyelids closed halfway and she swayed towards me. I drew my fingers down her neck and then reached to push her dressing gown to the floor. She inhaled sharply and with daring hands reached for the ties on my smoking jacket... Slytherin-green, of course. To my utter humiliation, I jerked and convulsed as she drew her fingertips up my ribcage.

“You're ticklish!! I can't believe you're ticklish!” she chortled and covered her mouth with her hand, but not really making an effort to hide her mirth. Menacingly, I crossed my arms over my chest and gave her my best Potions Master glare. It did NOT have the desired effect. She laughed even harder and then reached out to grab onto my shoulder because she could no longer hold herself upright. I waited for her to catch her breath, and to my surprise, once she wiped the tears from her eyes, she threw her arms around me.

“You've just not been touched enough, that's why you're so ticklish. You're not used to the contact. Come closer and we'll remedy that.” I let her draw me into her arms as she worked my jacket off and kissed my chest.

“I still don't see what's so funny,” I mumbled. She smiled against my skin and began licking her way down, her wicked little tongue wandering down my stomach.

“Whose leading this dance anyway?” I wondered aloud.

She smiled again and stood back from me, flushed and beautiful, with rosy lips and dancing eyes. I studied her for a moment, and then reached for the buttons on her woolen night rail. She laughed nervously and explained that we were in an old castle in Scotland.

“Do tell, Hermione," her name rolled off my tongue like dark chocolate. "I am very aware of where we currently reside,” a bit of snark helped reset my equilibrium. She had the cheek to roll her eyes and smile back at me. Perfect sarcasm, perfectly wasted.

The thick wool parted down to her enticing belly. Slightly concave beneath her ribs with smooth pale skin... utter perfection. I pushed her gown from her shoulders and it slid heavily to the floor. As my gaze raked her body, it got stuck on her knickers.

“White cotton... waisties?!” I had at least expected something with satin... or a bit of lace.

Blushing furiously she attempted to explain comfortable sleeping attire and the different degrees of knickers... I'll never understand women. “I prefer to sleep nude, Hermione. Care to join me?” Miraculously, her mouth closed, although she still leveled a glare at me. Her arms crossed enticingly under her breasts as she gestured for me to undress first. Wench!

I gave her an artfully arched brow and smirk and divested myself of clothes. She visibly swallowed and seemed to devour me with her eyes. Yet another ego trip courtesy of my tricksy Gryffindor. She crossed the few steps to me and folded herself into my arms. I returned the embrace long enough to be considered affectionate and then set about ridding her of those damn offending knickers.

The eroticism of our bare skin caressing before our lips met raised the temperature in the room exponentially. How we wound up on the bed is beyond me, but I think it had something to do with her knees giving way out of sheer passion. I knew I couldn't tell her that I loved her, or at least suspected that I did, but I did intend to show her.

There wasn't a safe or off-limits centimeter anywhere on her body. By the time I made it back up to her lips she was beyond speech, and if I say so myself, coherent thought. She tasted of the sweetest ambrosia, no matter where I kissed, and by the time I found my way to her heated core, I hung on to my control by hook and by crook. I needn't have worried for my lovely vixen; she matched me stroke for stroke and when I finally let go and spilled into her, she followed me into passion's throes soon after.

I covered her in kisses, pressed her head into my chest and covered our sweat chilled bodies with the sheet and coverlet. Wrapped in my arms, she sighed into sleep. I watched her for a bit, and like that bloody Grinch, my heart seemed to grow 'till it wouldn't fit in my chest anymore. Soon after I joined my Hermione in slumber.

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The Foggy Dew vs. 3

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