Chapter Six

This chapter contains strong language and sexual situations.

You have to learn the rules of the game. And then you have to play better than anyone else. Albert Einstein

Almost reluctantly, Severus wrenched his will out of Hermione's mind and stared in her eyes, slightly disoriented, shocked at the revelation of what he'd seen. It was then he realised she did not want the darkness of the man; she wanted the man of the darkness. It was not the robes that excited her; it was him in them. For several seconds, wizard and witch stood, staring at one another, eyes hot and dark, breathing hard. Severus swallowed. "And you never told me."

Hermione lowered her chin. With a weak smile, she countered, "I didn't know how to tell you. I certainly couldn't say anything that day." She tossed her head in a parody of her teenaged self. "'Oh Professor Snape, thank you for that impressive display of defensive magic, and by the way, could you roger me in technicolour, because you're so fucking sexy when you're scaring me into knicker-soaked oblivion?' You would have ripped me into so many pieces I'd still be looking for them." Her smile took the sting out of her words, but her eyes still burned into his.

Severus looked down at his lovely wife. She was so beautiful, and fine and good. Too good for him, he thought, and then decided to stop worrying about her in those terms. She thinks I'm good enough. She's here, now, wanting this. He would be lying to himself if he said he, too had not been aroused, sharing the memory of that long-ago moment.

He realised had been allowing his own insecurities to draw some rather inaccurate conclusions about her. Seeing her now, sharing her thoughts, he knew he could have her the way he'd always wanted, and that she would allow it because she wanted it as well. He was now convinced a part of her needed it as much as he did.

He favoured her with a slow smile. "So, the good little Gryffindor girl was wet for her greasy professor?" A shard of lust slid into his spine and bloomed, dark and malignant, in his blood, making his heart beat hard and heavy against his skin. It made his voice as sinister and as dangerously soft as the velvet belt of his robe. "Were your wet that day, Miss Granger?"

She closed her eyes in a slow blink. "Yes, sir," she whispered. She unconsciously swayed toward him. Her eyes flew open as his large hands grasped her arms tightly, and she looked up into eyes that blazed with black fire.

He looked down at her haughtily. "And are you wet now, Miss Granger? Shall I see for myself? Better yet, why don't you show me?" It was not possible that a man's voice could hold so many colours, and scents and flavours, but Hermione felt as if she could see and scent and taste them all. She had never felt so much pure, distilled lust trickle-feeding under her skin.

With a hot little smile, Hermione gathered her robes in her hands and slowly pulled them upward, revealing her low heels and her every day, ordinary knickers. She kept her eyes locked on his as she stood, waiting, silently begging him to find out for himself.

For a moment, he looked at her, unsmiling. His hand slid over her skin, down her flat belly, and down to her knickers, where he eased a single fingertip into the waistband, enjoying the satiny skin that rivaled the softness of the fabric. Hermione closed her eyes and waited, breathless with anticipation.

"I gave you an order, pet," he murmured, his voice deceptively sweet and soft. "Show me how wet you are."

He could hear her breathing increase as she tentatively slipped her hand down past his, to the dark patch of curls between her thighs, and gasped as her fingers brushed over her slick folds and teasingly flickered across her distended clitoris. She was shamefully wet, as randy as a teenager, and thought she might come with a few whispered words and a single, insistent finger.

Severus scowled. In a mildly reproachful tone, he reprimanded, "I did not give you permission to pleasure yourself, Hermione." At the sound of her name, she reluctantly withdrew her fingers, slick with the evidence of her arousal. He caught her wrist in his hand, and with a smile of anticipation, he sucked the moisture from each finger slowly, his eyes closed, as if enjoying the most delicious delicacy.

Whimpering, she watched him as he rolled and cradled her fingers with his tongue, the warm slippery muscles gliding over her fingertips with practiced sensuality. The saddle between her thighs grew thicker, and that sweet little ache in her cunt made Hermione shudder. She nuzzled against her husband's neck, his scent making her mouth water. "Severus, please, make love to me."

He finished his sensuous repast, then allowed her hand to drop by her side. Looking into her eyes, he cupped her chin, so that she had no choice but to meet his fathomless gaze.

"Is that really what you want me to do? To lay you down like an empty dress, feeding you sweet kisses and ending out the evening with the simple satisfaction of a man coupling with his woman?" His hand on her chin was gentle but firm. "You led me to believe you wanted ... more."

Hermione froze. "You know what I want. You know what I need. You've always known, haven't you?"

"Yes. But I had to be certain you knew, as well."

Hermione closed her eyes, and an almost painful expression clouded her features. In desperation, she knelt at his feet, and in his Death Eater robes he seemed twice as tall. "Do you want me to beg? Do you want me to be your slave? I'll do it. I want it, too." She felt close to tears. The thought that he might spurn her again was almost unbearable.

"Severus, I love you, and I'll do anything you ask, just please, please allow me in. Allow me to be what you need as well. I want to know what it feels like to completely surrender to you. I want to know what it feels like to be your slave." When he did not answer, she cried recklessly. "Please say yes, Severus, please! I promise I'll do anything you want!"

He knew he should stop this; he had vowed never to feed that sleeping tiger again. But this is Hermione, that slow, sludgy voice insisted, the one that still had power over his cock and balls. She wants it, she craves it, give her what she wants she wants you she'll do anything you ask make her make her fuck get her –

Severus looked down at her for a long time. When he at last spoke, his voice was cool, distant. "What about what I want, Hermione? Do I want to dominate, humiliate and demean you? Do I want to hurt you, break your spirit? Do I want you to crawl to me, so that I may punish you and reduce you to an automaton, existing only to do my bidding?"

She looked at him, her face full of doubt and conflict. Finally, Severus shook his head. "No. I wanted those things once. They were given me, and they were as irresistible as a drug, and I took them. But it is a shallow, hollow power, to force someone to do those things in spite of their will to do otherwise."

She slumped briefly, and he could see the confusion mixed with worry clouding her eyes. Severus took her by the arms and pulled her to her feet, his heart aching to see her obvious apprehension at the thought of displeasing him. He gentled his trembling wife.

"I would never subjugate your will to mine. However," he hesitated, and sighed. "I would be lying if I said the thought of playing these games with you doesn't arouse me. But you must understand it would be on my terms. If you truly wish to submit to me, you submit to me completely. Can you do that?"

"Yes, sir," she said immediately. "Please give me the chance to prove it. Please," she whispered, and leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She had done and said all she could. The rest was up to him.

Finally, he touched her face, his fingers warm and familiar, and Hermione turned her head and pressed her lips to them. He made a soft little sound.

"Yes, pet," he soothed, his voice dark and honeyed, "If you choose to submit to me, I will give this to you. If I deem it necessary to discipline you, you will consent to it or it will not happen. I will spank you and reward you, and give you the pleasures I should have given you long ago. You will be pampered and petted as well as dominated and punished. I have held back in fear and doubt. I will not do so now."

Weak with relief, Hermione put her arms around him and pressed against him; rubbing against his robes shamelessly, inarticulate with the need to touch him, to be touched. Inexplicably, she felt tears prick her eyes. "So you will do this? You won't hold back from me?" She pulled back and looked up at him. "Will you be my – my..." Her face flushed. "My Master?"

He brushed a stray curl from her forehead, and traced her delicate brows with his long fingers. "I can be. But you must trust that I know best." He began to stroke her hair, her arms, her waist, and suddenly he lifted her in his arms, and carried her to the edge of the bed. He sat down and enfolded her in his lap. "Oh, yes, my little one. I know exactly what you want." His large hand caressed her cheek, and he pulled her down to his lips in a searing kiss.

He had never kissed her this way. In ten years, never like this!

It was a kiss that made her fully aware of her entire mouth, and his possession of it. There was no teasing, cajoling glide of tongue against lips, requesting entrance. It was a kiss that broke her open like a treasure chest bursting with secrets. He plundered her mouth greedily, his tongue hard and penetrating, stealing her breath and her will. There was no pulling away from it; he wouldn't allow it. She felt lightheaded; she needed to breathe ...

Somehow he was laying her down on the bed, punishing her with kisses that tasted of fire and burnt sugar and elf-made wine, and she could do nothing but revel in them and pull him closer.

She made a startled, gasping sound that frightened her, especially when she realized her fingers were wrapped in his long hair, pulling him deeper into her mouth with an eager desperation that left her writhing, held down by his embrace. When he finally pulled away, she tried to follow him, but he would not allow it. They were both panting like runners.

She put her arms around his neck to bring him closer, but he held her back. "My kiss, my pace." His lips were so close to hers she could feel the movement of them as he spoke; she could feel the soft puff of his breath. He smiled. "I think I'll have to fuck that mouth." His tongue flicked across her bottom lip and darted away elusively. "It's so very sweet; all pink and plump and swollen from my kisses. Would you let me fuck your mouth, pet?"

She tried to insinuate her hand into his robes. "Yes, please, fuck me -"

His large hand closed on her wrist and pulled it away. "It is enough that I know what you want. You have to trust that."

Hermione undulated against him, and reached for his buttons. Almost gently, he pushed her hand away, his tone mildly admonishing. He had never denied her before.

"No, no, my girl. This is not the time to give in to weakness. We have to talk about this. You must exercise a bit of self-control."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but quickly shut it. She had just declared she wanted him to dominate her, and now she was about to challenge his decisions. She took a deep breath and laughed shakily, again fighting unexpected tears. "Well, you certainly have my attention!"

He nodded sagely, and she could see that he, too, was forcing his needs in check; he was making a much better job of it than she.

He allowed her a few moments to calm herself before he rose from the bed, and pulled them both into a sitting position. When he spoke, his voice rolled through her like the deepest river, and she allowed herself to be swept away, even when his words troubled or shocked her.

"Hermione, before we proceed, I will tell you now that outside these walls, we are the same wizard and witch we were yesterday or the day before. You are a strong, passionate, caring woman, and I would have you no other way. You are stubborn, willful and intelligent, and I will stifle none of that. Those are reasons I love you. But here, in the sanctum of our privacy, you will be my treasured babe, my little one. And I will give you what you need so badly."

His hands drifted across her skin, and parted her robes with a wandless spell. She shivered to feel his hand caressing her collarbone, her soft thigh. "First and foremost, this about trust. You must trust me to give you everything you need. Secondly, this is about obedience." He trailed his fingers over her breasts with a touch so feather light her skin goosebumped. "Are you ready to trust and obey me?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes." She felt painfully aroused. Before she could stop herself, she whispered, "Will you talk dirty to me?"

To her surprise, he graced her with a knowing smile. "I won't be calling you a little slut, if that's what you want." Without warning he pinched her nipple, causing her to yelp in surprise, and he bared his teeth in a lecherous sneer. Purring like a large black cat, he smirked, "I will tell you your cunt smells delicious, and if you are very good girl, I might just have to give it a little lick."

He pronounced each word with the slow, compelling click of a stiletto on a stone floor, a mélange of tongues and teeth and lascivious intent. When Hermione licked her lips, he pinched her bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her mouth open. He sneered as her tongue darted out to lick the tip of his finger.

His eyes narrowed slightly at her flushed face. His voice grew cooler. "Tell me the truth, Hermione. In this bed, do you truly wish to be stripped bare of everything but the desire to trust me, to submit to me?"

Hermione was shaking; she had not been this nervous the first day she arrived at Hogwarts. Finally, she swallowed, and whispered, "Yes, sir."

Severus hummed his approval. "Very good, little one. And will you consent to be punished and soothed by my hand when I deem it necessary?"

Hermione could barely move. As concerned as she was by this aspect of their games, she spoke as if compelled. "Yes, sir. I promise I will."

He took her hand, and turned it face up, and placed a warm, soft kiss in the centre of her palm, touching his tongue to her flesh. "I am pleased. You're a good girl," he crooned lovingly.

Hermione whimpered at his praise, and Severus knew he had her. Hermione could not resist praise, and when he repeated that she was his 'good girl,' her eyes dilated and her nipples grew rock hard.

He leaned toward her, and she moaned softly as he caught her earlobe in his teeth and bit gently. In a voice silvery as smoke, he purred in her ear, "Will you allow yourself to be seduced and rewarded by me? To be subdued and pleasured by my cock? To come at the sound of my voice?"

She felt like a butterfly, pinned to him by a hypnotic, seductive spell. "Please," she whispered, her voice almost whining with need.

"Very good, pet. I do so enjoy hearing you beg." He made a motion for her to stand, and Hermione rose to her feet on unsteady legs. Severus held her until she was able to stand on her own. He looked down at her, and began to slowly unbutton his robe. "Then we will begin soon."

Hermione fell back to earth with a thud. She looked up at him, her eyes bewildered. "S-soon? But-"

The eyes that looked down on her were no longer snapping with fire. They were her husband's eyes, dark, liquid and patient. "I want you to think about this and be sure, Hermione. If this is what you truly want, I will give it to you. I want only your happiness."

He stroked her face, his long fingers trailing across her cheek softly. "If you say no, it will be as if none of this had happened. We will be as we always were, and I will love you as I always have and always will – with my whole heart.

"If, however, you say yes, then from now on, when we come together as lovers, you will submit to me. I will give you this gratification, and you will give me your trust and obedience." He managed a smile. "However, I am not such a bastard as to give you reason to disobey. But if I wish to spank you, I will, with your full consent. You will trust me that I know what you need, and I will reward you with pleasure."

Hermione shivered. How could one man give one word so many facets and possibilities?

He placed a warm kiss on her forehead, and stepped back. "Three days from now, Hermione. Between now and then, you will do something for me."

"Yes, sir." She looked up at him with such breathless anticipation, waiting for instructions, and in spite of all the years that had passed, Severus could still see the eager, young Gryffindor who had irritated him with her endless hand-waving, and had later earned his grudging respect with her relentless, stubborn resourcefulness.

A wave of affection filled his heart, and at that moment, he fell in love with his wife over again. She was such a lovely little swot. Even being assigned homework excited her. It made his heart nearly burst with the knowledge that this gorgeous little witch loved him so much. He came very close to pulling her back down onto the bed with him.

Instead he said. "For the next three days, you will have a writing assignment. If you complete it each day, then we will proceed."

Hermione bit her lip. Tentatively, she replied, "Yes, sir." He nodded, then walked toward the bed. Unable to stop herself, she blurted, "Does this mean we won't – you won't-"

"Make love to you? No, I won't. Until you give me your answer, yes, or no. Then we will. The way you want." He saw her shoulders droop, and he smiled indulgently. "It doesn't mean I won't touch you, or kiss you, or be any less of a husband to you." He held out his arms to her. "Come here, little girl."

She all but leapt into his arms. He embraced her, enfolding her completely against his chest. His embrace told her so many things; his warmth soothed her and eased her agitated mind. The hands that stroked her back reminded her that he desired and needed her as much as she wanted him. The warm mouth that slid against her cheek promised so many delights, and when she pressed hard against him, he was hard and hot and familiar against her belly.

"Yes, witch," he crooned, acknowledging the evidence of his arousal. "Yes, I want you. There are moments in my study in which I am overwhelmed at my need, my craving for you. Do not mistake me, Hermione. I have held myself in check for the last six years, afraid of frightening you with my own base urges. I want this as well."

He pulled away from her, and his cock surged painfully at the sight of her upturned face, her trusting, hopeful expression. At that moment, he wanted her so badly he almost broke his own rule. With a mental shake, he pulled himself together.

He favoured her with an indulgent smile. "Tomorrow evening, I want a foot of parchment. I want you to tell me, in detail, a fantasy you would like for us to enact. I require place, time, dialogue, clothing. Leave out no detail." He watched her absorb this information, and nod her agreement.

He continued, "Each night for three nights. A different fantasy. I want you to be completely honest. There are no taboos here, Hermione." He stroked her cheek, "You will be safe in the knowledge that nothing you say or do will shock or repulse me; nothing will be denied you. I will make all of your fantasies come true. There is no safer place to explore your desires than with me."

Hermione nodded, thrilled at his words. "Thank you." They were actually going to do it. "I understand, s -" She stopped, confused. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to call you." He chuckled, and she felt a little less foolish. "Well, I don't! I feel like such a neophyte, all of a sudden." She sobered. "I'm afraid of doing something wrong."

He tilted his head again, a gesture she found imminently sweet. "Don't be. Call me Severus." His eyes grew warm. "I have always enjoyed the sound of my name on your lips, especially when you are coming undone around my cock."

Hermione felt her face grow warm. To distract him from her blushes, she replied, "Just Severus? Not Master, or Daddy, or sir or professor -"

He smirked. Silkily, he drawled, "Do feel free, my love. Call me as you see me. Call me what fits your fantasies and your need at that given time." He stroked her cheek. "Whatever I am called, that is how I will respond.

"And how would you like to be addressed? Miss Granger? Pet? Little one?" His voice dropped slightly. "My very good girl?" Her eyes told him his answer. He turned away from her, and began to remove the Death Eater robes.

"At the end of each day, for the next three days, you will turn in your written assignments to me, and then I will ask you if you wish to proceed. If you say no, we will put the matter behind us, and we will return to our old life."

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip. "And if I still say yes at the end of the three days?"

Severus turned the full battery of his stormy eyes on her. They glistened like hematite in the dim light. "Then we will begin. I confess, pet, I find the idea of presenting our normal selves out there," he gestured toward their door, and to the rest of the world beyond, "and knowing the unspeakable things I am going to do to you in here, to be very ... arousing."

She watched him hungrily as he dropped the robe from his shoulders, and stood bare-chested in the middle of their bed chambers. The robe still hung from his waist, from the velvet and satin belt. He looked like a decadent, debauched version of Merlin, pale and ascetic, with appetites too deep too fathom, too tempting not to explore. He seemed to glow in contrast to the deep black of the robe, and Hermione looked away.

Sometimes Severus Snape was too beautiful to look at.

That night, when they went to bed, he spooned against her and kissed her gently. "From now on, pet, no knickers under your robes. Not even while teaching."

He felt her stiffen, and almost laughed. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head, and he mentally counted to five.

At four and a half, she blurted, "May I ask why?"

Severus smiled, and caressed her flat stomach. His fingers slid down to her labia, and it parted effortlessly, coating his fingers with her moisture. She whimpered, and thrust against him. As she rubbed relentlessly against his fingers, he murmured soothingly, "No, no, no. Mustn't come yet. That will be later. Self-control. Not wearing knickers will remind you that you have been obedient, and you will be rewarded for it. It will also remind you that I will make you come the moment you tell me 'no' in the next three days, as well."

Hermione tried to calm her taut body as his fingers slid from her. She turned to watch him lick his fingers, a look of orgasmic satisfaction on his face. She could feel his erection pressing against the cleft of her arse. He was rock hard. She muttered ruefully, "You're making it very tempting to say no."

He smiled and put his arms around her again. "This is one-time offer, Hermione. One 'no' is all you get. But if you are willing to be patient and self-disciplined, I promise you I will ensure it will be worth the wait, in every way."

Hermione grew quiet again, and just as Severus reached nine, she blurted, "This is part of it, isn't it? You have already begun, haven't you? This is a test of my submission!"

To her surprise, he laughed. "Is it?" He rewarded her with another warm kiss on her shoulder. "Goodnight, little girl." She heard his whispered, "Nox", and the light was extinguished.

Soon after, Hermione heard his breathing slow down and deepen, and as much as she wanted to rest and sleep, she could not. Her mind raced. She thought of everything she knew about her husband. Severus had never disappointed her, never lied, never even looked at another woman. He was quiet, fair and blissfully virtuous. Their marriage was solid, serene and stable to the core.

He had changed since the dark days of the war. He had grown into a calmer, less volatile version of her former professor. It was true, he had never managed to suffer fools gladly, and he could be positively snarky when the need arose. Oh, yes, he could still be the biggest, most belligerent, obstinate, unreasonable git in the Wizarding world, when he so chose. Still, male students sometimes emulated him, and female students often crushed over him.

Did she trust him? Yes, more than anyone - more, even, than Ron and Harry. Did she want to give herself over to his ultimate sexual control? She thought she might. She also thought of his past and realised he might truly be capable of doing some rather degenerate things to her without worrying too much about them.

Three days didn't seem to be enough time to settle her turbulent mind over something that could affect the rest of their lives.

The next day Hermione and Severus rose with no discernable deviation in their usual routine. They rose and dressed as always, except that Severus caught her arm as they were about to leave their rooms. "Wait, Hermione."

She turned to him, puzzled, and he held out his hand imperiously. Hermione stared at him blankly, then made a little "oh!" sound, as realization dawned. Sheepishly, she gave him the hem of her robe, and he raised the edge diffidently, almost clinically. Beneath, he saw her lovely little flat shoes, and nothing else.

He nodded. "Good girl, well done. I am very pleased." The robes dropped from his hand, and he kissed her; soft, enticing, slow kisses that caused her crotch to throb in time with her heartbeat. He pulled away very gently until she was clinging to him. His obsidian eyes were soft, but there was a heat behind them that made Hermione shiver.

He shook his head, and his voice was slightly less steady that he would have liked. "I will expect your assignment to be completed and handed in to me at the end of the day."

Hermione smiled at him. "I'll work on it during my break, sir." She favoured him with a cheeky grin. "I trust I will not disappoint."

He smirked. "It never occurred to me you would, my little swot." He kissed her again, and together they headed for the Great Hall for their breakfast.