astopperindeath - Black Hole Chaser

"Lust is to the other passions what the nervous fluid is to life; it supports them all, lends strength to them all. Ambition, cruelty, avarice, revenge, are all founded on lust."

~ The Marquis De Sade

Lust

If he was ever going to make those images reality, he'd better repair the damage he had created...quick!

Except, Severus could not bring himself to do anything quickly. As much as he wanted to, he knew that crushing her to him and plundering her mouth would do nothing more than enrage her further. "Taking things slow," she had said. He just stood there, staring at her and willing himself not to move. It was either that or force matters to a head.

Hermione stared back at him, chest heaving, hair pulled loose from its confines. He could not interpret the look on her face...was it lust? Hatred? Attraction?

Thoroughly confused and baffled, he spoke, knowing it would probably just make everything worse.

"I am truly sorry for entering your home unannounced and uninvited, Miss Granger. It shall not happen again."

And in spite of her gasp and her shocked face, he threw a handful of Floo powder into the fire and quickly exited her home.

He stormed through his house, his robes billowing so hard they threatened to fly off. Ripping the robes off and throwing them into a corner, he entered his living room and, hands shaking with anger, managed to pour a healthy glass of brandy.

He was angry for so many reasons. Angry at his inability to pause in any stressful situation before flying off the handle; angry at Weasley for bringing his slow wooing of Hermione to a climax far earlier than was prudent; and mostly, angry he was here drinking brandy instead of capitalizing upon Hermione's fiery wrath.

He had to think of an entirely new plan, and quickly. Had her words implied that she wished for me to introduce my products into our relationship? Or was she merely implying she would prefer me to all others? Or did she just mean that between Weasley and me, she would prefer me?

Admitting he was as confused as ever as to the inner workings of the fairer sex, he began pacing and drinking, losing himself in his stream-of-consciousness musings, and hoping for inspiration.

Instead, his brain felt as if it had been sprayed with Doxycide. All of his careful planning had been killed and wiped clean by Weasley's behavior.

Tired of pacing, he sunk into the wing chair next to his bed. Knowing he would not come up with a solution tonight, he settled for thinking about her. When he had encountered her at her home, sulking in her own self-indulgence, he had truly been worried about her. And that worry had hit him like a sucker punch to his diaphragm.

Their short moment of shared passion the night before had almost been too much. Sinking onto the couch with her, he had felt relief like a dying man might feel upon finding an oasis in the desert. As much as he had loved drinking in her kiss, he'd had to touch her. He had felt such lust for her, such all-consuming desire, he'd thought he might go mad. In fact, a part of him had felt... empty when she pulled away. "Taking things slow," she had said.

Had the look she had given him earlier, before he fled her home, been the signal he ought to take things less slow? He didn't know. He hated not knowing.

And he hated the idea of "taking things slow." The bulge in his trousers indicated just how much he hated that idea.

Groaning in frustration, he opened the drawer in the table next to his bed and lifted one of his Sensuality lotions from inside.

I very much doubt the upright Miss Granger will be giving into her most base longings this evening.

*******

Severus hadn't even given her a chance to say anything. Before she could respond, before she could grab his arm and beg him to stay, he was gone in a swirl of robes and Floo powder.

Hermione stormed into her bathroom, slamming all of the doors in her wake. She let out a frustrated howl as she slammed her hands against the vanity counter. Looking in the mirror, she studied her face. I know I gained a stone during my temporary swim in my own self-pity, but I've lost most of that. I'm not the most attractive woman, but I'm sure as hell the most attractive woman that jackass might ever end up shagging!

She stomped out of the bathroom and into her bedroom, stalking across the room to stand before her full-length mirror. Ripping her clothes off in a fit of pique, she stared at her figure hypercritically, looking for any flaw. Her stomach, though not as flat as in her school days...not chasing after Dark wizards and living off mushrooms in the Forest of Dean had some drawbacks...was not as bad as it could be. She knew she would never be as graceful or poised as some witches, but she had much to offer some lucky wizard.

Realizing her self-inventory would cause more self-loathing than self-praise, she threw herself down on her bed.

Why am I even attracted to the insufferable man? He made my job a living hell; he mocked my home... Well, I have to grant him mocking my home; that first day he came, the piles of curry containers weren't the most attractive knickknacks... but still!

In spite of everything, she was attracted to him. Her altercation with Ron today had made that even clearer. How could I ever have been attracted to... What was it Snape had called Ron over dinner a few nights ago? That "gormless hair pile." The description was apt; certain parts of Ron definitely lacked in vitality and were stuck inside an untrimmed mass of hair... ugh. Between that and his constant malapropisms, it was a wonder I never physically harmed him!

She rolled to her side and spooned a pillow, trying not to drown in her miserable thoughts. She could hear Luna telling her not to let the Glumbumbles and their evil treacle get to her and tried to smile. But happy thoughts ultimately would get her nowhere.

Her body was tense...far too tense. That look he had given her before he'd left... She'd thought he was going to make a move. She'd been desperately willing him to make a move, but no, he had left. Left her there, body thrumming with unresolved tension, about to pull her hair out, she was so angry. And turned on, Granger. Don't forget turned on. Lusting after your old Potions master... How attractive.

Knowing she would not sleep without relief, she reached into her bedside table and removed her vibrator. Hoping she wouldn't regret giving into her need the next morning, she clicked it on. I suppose I could have used those Sensualityproducts after all...

She traced the vibrator over each of her nipples before passing it between her breasts. Ghosting the vibrator over her stomach and thighs, she slid her other hand up, pinching and rolling a nipple before palming an entire breast.

Hermione's fantasies about Snape were generally the same...she was Snape's case manager, chasing him from Apparition point to Apparition point before finding him in some far-off country.

She Apparates into an opulent room, red, a large, four-poster bed at the center. He approaches her from behind, pressing his body into hers and ghosting his hands over her frame. Turning her abruptly, he snaps his fingers, divesting her of her clothing in one magical rush.

She inched the vibrator closer to her core.

Snape throws her to the bed.

"Touch yourself for me, Granger," he growls.

Her hand moved to her other breast, while she traced the vibrator over her clit.

He slowly removes his clothing as she watches, frigging herself with abandon. He stands before her in all his naked glory, his cock pointing towards her like a compass points north.

The moment he realizes her need is peaking, leaning down and nipping her neck, he slides into her smoothly, his right hand holding fast to the left side of her arse.

As she finally slid the vibrator inside, she cried out, her hips lifting slightly off the bed.

"Oh, Severus," she whispered as she achieved the climax she so desperately needed.

*******

Giving into his own longings, he unbuttoned his trousers, liberating his semi-erect cock from its confines. Pouring a healthy dollop of the lotion into his left hand, he rubbed his hands together to release the essential oils.

He had formulated the lotion to increase sensitivity in any place it was administered. The lotion also increased the length and intensity of orgasm in both sexes. Few realized, however, that he laced the potion with a drop of Amortentia, enhancing one's sensual experience.

Taking a deep breath, he imagined what should have happened the night before.

His mouth travels down her neck as his hand feels its way up her side to her breast. She arches into his palm, her hands sliding into his hair and pressing his lips harder into her neck. He chuckles softly as he slowly lays her down onto the cushions, leaning over her.

He ghosted his hands over his nipples, groaning at the immediate stimulation to his nerve endings. He had formulated the lotion with magically enhanced eucalyptus, which imprinted upon the skin ghostly traces of the physical sensations experienced. His hands skimmed over his body, leaving a tingling path in their wake.

Untucking his shirt, she unbuttons it with trembling fingers before pushing it off his shoulders. He lowers himself further, kissing her forehead, her temple, before catching her lips between his own. He sinks further into her kiss as her hands run across his back, her nails digging in slightly as she pulls him even closer.

He slowly rolls with her off the couch and onto the carpet.

His hand skimmed down his body before clenching the arm of the chair as his other hand descended to his cock. Pulling back his foreskin, he massaged the tip for just a moment, waiting for the lotion to intensify the sensation. Satisfied with the results, he firmly grasped himself and began sliding his fist up and down his length.

Hermione leans down and kisses him, her hands on either side of his face. Straddling him, she grinds herself into him.

Removing her shirt, she reveals her lace-clad breasts, pushed high by her brassiere. His fantasy Hermione's behavior changes abruptly, as does the pacing of their lovemaking. No longer the shy girl from the last two months, she becomes the bold woman from last night, who took the initiative. Unbuttoning his trousers, she slides them and his underpants down just far enough to release his erection. Moaning in need, she lifts her skirt and slides the flimsy fabric covering her mound to the side before quickly sinking onto him.

His left hand moved faster as his other flew off the arm of the chair to cup his balls. Head rolled backwards, eyes closed, his thrusts became faster and more shallow.

Her hands grab his shoulders tightly to balance herself as she finds her rhythm. His hands find her hips and guide her motions, moving her harder and faster over his cock.

As the sensations caused by his hands and the lotion mounted, he pictured her lovely, lust-filled face.

"Hermione!" he groaned. With one final thrust, he spilled his seed.

AN: Thanks are entirely necessary to my team...all of you were so helpful and your comments helped me so much. Thanks especially to kittylefish and clairvoyant12 for your many read-throughs and for the conversations that helped keep me sane during this process.

Word count: 1953

Prompt words used are bolded: 1. Triskaidekaphobia 2. Malapropism 3. Maggoty Haggis 4. Doxycide 5. Glumbumble Parts 6. The Serpentine 7. Stream

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