Part Four

Anti-Litigation Charm: I do not own these characters, nor do I make any money from them, nor do I own any stock in the manufacture, promotion or distribution of Murtlap Essence.

Bed in Summer, A Child's Garden of Verses – RL Stevenson

He led her into his bed chambers. At first, had been a bitter demotion from the plush surroundings of the Headmaster's massive barge of a bed to this smaller one, but as the days wore on, and his indifference and war-trauma burn-out set in his heart like an anvil, he stopped caring so much about how far he had fallen.

Now, he felt a momentary squeamishness. What was he doing? He was the worst sort of shabby little pervert, with nefarious plans toward fucking his student. Toward his brilliant, sexy, troublesome, perfect student. Oh, Merlin. All the feelings of unrequited love, guilt, anger and envy over Lily unravelled from his head like a puff of smoke.

Lily might have jilted the fuck out of him, but he had a feeling this randy little witch was going to fuck the jilt out of him. He examined that feeling for a moment. Yes, he was, in fact, perfectly happy with that. She had already shifted a lot of things back into perspective.

No sooner had she entered the room than he locked and warded the door within an inch of his life. She drew near to him, and with a soft, knowing smile, she began to undress him. She undid each button with slow, secretive pleasure, as if she'd given the act a lot of thought on more than one occasion.

He was breathing hard as she removed his white linen shirt, and she smiled at his pale, slim torso. It was scarred, but that seemed no more important to her than their age or their status. She pressed against him lovingly. "You're beautiful. Do you know, Severus?"

"No, I'm not." His voice sounded sullen to his own ears. "There is no need to patronise me. I know what I look like."

Hermione just shook her head and gave him a look of infinite patience. "No, this is no time to feel insecure. I like what I see. I want to see more." She planted soft kisses over his chest, her breath whispering across his skin, and he thought for a moment he might hyperventilate.

He fumbled at his belt buckle, but Hermione playfully pushed his hands away, scolding, "Oh, no; this is my treat. I've wanted this. Don't deny me." She smiled up at him. "I'm enjoying this. I want you to enjoy it as well."

He closed his eyes. "To be perfectly honest, I can't tell you what my present emotion is. I'm fairly sure it's positive, but we're so out of the realm of my experiences right now I might as well be classified as another species."

He was babbling, and he felt like an idiot. Where was the brilliant, urbane wizard who'd engaged in such frothy conversation with the young witch sitting atop his ball-bursting erection not ten minutes ago? He was gone. Why? He gazed down at Hermione. Why shouldn't he enjoy himself with this pert little witch? She was crazy about him; he'd obsessed over her. And what, really, was worth ruining that? His insecurity? Fuck that.

She continued to undress him as if he were some sort of present to open. She knelt, and as she slid his trousers and his underclothes from his slim hips, she looked up at him with wonder, like beholding a god ready for worship. She gently removed his boots; when he lifted his foot, he placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned on it to keep his balance. She felt surprisingly solid. He felt appallingly dizzy; women did not touch him like this, nor did they look up at him with such longing and desire.

He was trembling as she gently stroked his calves and thighs. Warm, soft hands moved over his arse and gave it a playful squeeze, and when she grinned up at him and announced, "I bet I could bounce a Sickle off your bottom, Severus," his old feller opened a sleepy eye and decided to have a stretch and look around.

To his astonishment, she leaned down and kissed his feet. He gasped and closed his eyes. Watching her obvious adoration of his body would send him tumbling over the edge too soon, even after coming in his trousers like a fourth-year Hufflepuff at a Yule Ball. He had never recovered from an orgasm this quickly, except, perhaps, when he was her age. He cringed a little at the thought.

Now she rose back on her knees and took his foolishly bobbing cock in her hand. He hissed; it didn't matter that he'd just ejaculated shortly before, the feel of her soft hand closing over his rapidly inflating prick made his legs feel weak and he thought for a moment he needed to sit down. She moved to cup his balls in her hands, as if holding a prize, and looked at his cock with eyes that were dark with arousal and warm with adoration.

She smiled affectionately. "I think you're beautiful. Come here, sweet baby," she crooned, and pushed toward him until he penetrated her mouth in one long, exquisitely slow stroke. He made a gasping, strangled sound. She grasped the base of his shaft, moving his cock in and out of her mouth very slowly, gently, drawing out the pleasure. His heart was beating hard and heavy, and he could feel it pound in his shaft against the inside of her mouth as she painted him with her warm wet tongue. It felt like his entire body was melting in a pool of lava.

"Oh Merlin," he moaned, shuddering. He was torn between wanting to thrust in her hot wet mouth, and desperately trying to hold on for as yet unannounced delights. She took pity on him and kept her slow, sensuous pace, swirling her tongue over the head as she pulled away, licking the tip, bathing it with long languid strokes, savouring each lick as if sampling an exquisite morsel to be slowly enjoyed.

As she pulled back, she placed tender kisses on the head of his cock, calling him filthy things no woman had ever called him. The crippling pleasure intensified until he was moaning with each breath and holding onto her hair hard enough to hurt. He wanted to tell her it was indecent to be able to suck dick this well, but he could not clear his mind of this endorphin-soaked bliss long enough to form the words. Her head rolled sensuously against his crotch with each inward stroke, and her nose tickled his pubic hair.

Very gently she caressed his perineum, until she insinuated her hand fully between his legs. With a silent charm, she lubricated her first two fingers, and gently encircled the tight bud of his rectum. With one fluid motion, she inserted her fingers into his waiting hole and began to suck him harder, even as she finger fucked him.

He was thrusting in her mouth with abandon now, holding on tightly to her hair. He could feel a deep, melting sensation blooming in his groin, tightening his balls and saturating his body with unspeakable pleasure, and he grabbed her head and babbled, "Oh, suck it, girl, oh, gods, I'm going to come in your mouth... make me come - make me come -"

His words were lost in a tidal wave of sensation that robbed him of breath, sight and hearing, and he howled his release into the room. Hermione moaned ecstatically as he spurted into her mouth. He cried out her name, and she could feel his legs trembling. She removed her fingers from his body and cleaned them with a quick spell, holding him around the waist with her free hand.

"Oh, fuck me, that was incredible," he moaned, stumbling back until he was sitting on his bed, breathless, flushed and dazed. He collapsed back, fighting tears.

With a stunned, troubled look on her face, Hermione moved onto the bed and took him in her arms. Deftly, she leaned over him and offered him her breast, and he latched on, whimpering, sucking her nipple, wetting her skin with his tears. He stroked his deflating cock with one hand, as if soothing it. Gradually, he calmed, and the fierce hold on her breast relaxed, and he put his arms around her and pulled her against his chest and kissed her forehead hard.

As he came down from the dangerously addictive high she'd given him, she wiped the tears from his face and kissed him, easing her tongue into his mouth. He could taste his own salty, bitter flavour, and held her against his mouth for a long time. "You taste good, don't you?" she whispered huskily, and he nodded. He did taste good in her mouth.

For a while, they were silent, lying sprawled on his bed like exhausted cats, all tangled arms and legs. Finally, when enough blood flowed back into his brain to re-engage his thinking processes, Severus cleared his throat. In a surprisingly normal voice, he announced, "While I'm reveling in your desire to give me a new lease on life, not to mention recovering from the best blow job I have ever received, I feel I need to redress the balance. And although sucking those delicious little nipples has no doubt been mutually beneficial, I cannot help but think that I've been a monster of selfishness."

Hermione giggled, a sound which he found rather pleasing. "That's amazingly erudite for someone who's just received the best blow job of his life."

"Indeed. I'm rather pleased with myself."

"So it really was the best one you've ever had?"

"Don't trawl for compliments. I already told you it was. And I'll have you know I've experienced professionals." His eyes, large and black like lozenges, slid languidly over her body, and he peered into her face. "I'm almost afraid to ask where you learned to do that so well."

Her smile was both pleased and secretive. "I'll do you a deal. I won't ask about your 'professionals,' and you don't ask about my 'instructor.' Isn't it enough we have one another now?"

He raised his head from the bed and looked at her. "I will concur. Deal." He tucked one arm behind his head with a contented sigh. He caressed her back and she cuddled up to him softly, making him hum.

"You are quite a kitten. A dirty little pussy, make no mistake. I'll bet you're dripping wet right now."

Hermione pressed against him. "Very." She smiled, lightly running her fingers over the trail of hairs that rose above his groin. "I've had wet knickers since I kissed you."

"Indeed. Never fear. I did promise to redress the balance, didn't I?"

"Oh, yes. Where were we?"

"It's quite simple, pet. I have a sudden, almost irresistible urge to hear you howling my name in the throes of passion." He rolled over until they were facing one another on the bed. Stroking her cheek, he purred, "So, tell me what you want. Do you want me to lick you or fuck you?"