The long-awaited smut chapter. Have at it my darlings. Also, this is completely unrelated, but with all of the SS/HG fic I read, can I just say how bloody sick I am of the word "dunderhead"? He said it one time.

Warnings: AU, OOC, Angry Desk Sex, Spanking, Language, Snark, Sarcasm, Excessive Italicizing, Eyebrow Raising, and Awkward Post-Sex Talk

Anti-Litigation Charm: I don't own any of the Harry Potter franchise, because if I did, Severus Snape would be alive and well and shagging Hermione Granger into any and all surfaces of his home, at every opportunity. And they'd have bushy haired, black-eyed babies. Also, I make no money from this. None. Shame.

Song Rec: Closer by Nine Inch Nails because c'mon.

Her brain, deprived of oxygen, was incapable of creating any words more profound than a gasped, "What the fuck?"

There was that damned eyebrow again. "Language, Miss Granger," he drawled. "We must remember to be polite. And as I recall, you rather enjoyed it." The last bit he whispered in her ear with a voice low and soft and dangerous in the extreme. Verbal torture to her already frazzled mind. Later she would wonder where she found the mental capacity to form complete sentences.

No, what we must do is figure out why you thought it prudent to shove your tongue down my throat, she thought, but the words never reached her mouth. She was far too focused on his predatory gaze. Was he legilimising into her mind? Look away fool, her subconscious chided.

He laughed as he played witness to her internal battle. "You may ask me to leave at any time, if you're uncomfortable." Leave? Why would she ask him to do that? And gods, but his laugh. It inspired all sorts of inappropriate and depraved imagery in her mind. Imagery he had a front-row seat for.

His gaze was hooded as he watched her fantasies play themselves out. When he was satisfied, he broke the mental link, leaving Hermione gasping and clutching for her desk behind her.

"What a filthy mind you possess," he sneered. "Lucky for you, I'm willing to indulge the twisted little fantasies of your school days." At her look of shock and gasp he smirked down at her. "Oh yes, I saw the crush you harboured for your Potions professor. What would Minerva say if she knew that her prized Head Girl left the dungeons with wet knickers ever Wednesday and Thursday afternoon?"

His eyes well ablaze with lust now. A quick glance down at his trousers confirmed it. Presented with the incontrovertible proof that Severus Snape, Potions Master and Bastard Extraordinaire, wanted her, Hermione's mind quickly weighed the pros and cons of letting him "indulge her twisted little fantasies". He wouldn't cling, there'd be no expectations of a call the next day or future dates, and based on what was before her she'd definitely enjoy it. Oh he'd be rude and crass and no doubt, he'd enjoy rankling her about it in the future, but what did she really have to lose?

"Alright then," she whispered. "Indulge me."

He had the gall to smile then. As if he'd been expecting her to throw all caution to the wind and say "Fuck me." He turned and silently warded the office.

When he finished, he turned back to her. "I want to see what you look like now. Unbutton your blouse."

It killed her to admit it, but Hermione couldn't disobey him. Didn't want to. He was leading her somewhere with that sexy voice. Somewhere she'd never been. Somewhere she wanted to go. Hermione unbuttoned her blouse and drew it off of her shoulders.

"Beautiful," said Severus, a note of approval in his voice. "Exactly how I'd pictured it on you. But your hair's all wrong. It should be piled on your head. Do it."

That last phrase came out stronger, more like an order. Without thinking, she filled her hands with her hair and pulled it to the top of her head. It felt thick and silky against her hands. She'd never been quite so aware of the feel of her hair before. Snape walked across the office with deliberate slowness. When he got to her side, he walked around and from behind, felt his finger touch lightly on the back of her neck. There was an involuntary shiver as he traced his finger along the side of her neck, down the rounded front of her shoulder, into the crevice between her breasts, creating a trail of fire wherever he touched. Then he delved under the lace of her bra. Unbearable excitement filled her as he lifted her nipple away from the fabric.

"Mm," he said noncommittally as he examined her nipple. He reached around her back and brought the other one out of its nest. His body, strong and smelling of some kind of aftershave, pressed against her. In the office window, she saw their reflection. His intent face bent over her shoulder, his hands at her front, tugging at her nipples.

"You've had an interesting morning, haven't you," he murmured in her ear. "Look how these juicy little morsels swelled up. I bet that lace teased you hard, didn't it? Rubbed up against you like a rough little kitten tongue. I thought about you from the moment I walked in here, thought about these breasts stirring under your blouse. Thought about how wet it must be making you. Thought about how your nipples would feel against my hands, all hard and excited and…" He trailed, almost as if he were unwilling to admit any more.

He pulled her nipples again, hard, and her body arched back against him. She felt his erection press against her ass. The thought that she'd given him that hard-on made her even more excited. She wanted him to ravage her with it.

"All in due time," he whispered in her ear as she moaned.

"More?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, please," she said as politely as she could with her wobbly voice. "Sir," I added, for extra points.

He raised an eyebrow at that and pointed to the desk.

"Go."

Hermione went. Apparently, she had no ability to resist a command from him.

"Bend over and put your hands on the desk." His voice right behind her made me jump, but also made her unbearably happy.

He was silent for so long, Hermione wondered if he'd left. Her pussy was throbbing with anticipation.

Just as she was about to call his name she felt a sharp slap on her ass. The fabric of her skirt protected her, but it didn't stop the heat from slamming into her and leaving her breathless.

"So many times I've wanted to do that," he muttered. "If only to shut you up."

Her protest caught in her throat when his hand landed yet again. And again. Hermione anticipated another slap, but none were forthcoming. Instead he reached under her and unzipped her skirt. He pulled it and her tights down, following his progress to his knees. Her breath hitched when she felt his warm breath on the backs of her trembling thighs. He tapped her right ankle to signal her to lift her foot out of her shoe so he could remove her tights. She lifted the left with no prompting and he laughed.

"Eager little thing, aren't you?"

Finished, he rose again and pressed himself against her. With a jolt, Hermione realised that he was still fully dressed. Surely he wasn't going to fuck her whilst fully clothed?

She forgot all about her concerns when he pulled back and vanished her bra and knickers with a muttered Divesto.

"I would ask if you're ready," he said, his voice roughened by lust, "but I can see that you are, even from here." Without warning, he grabbed her arm and pulled her off the desk. At her confused look he rasped, "I want to see you when I fuck you."

Hermione couldn't help but close her eyes as a fresh burst of heat raced down her spine. The man was wicked and unrepentant to the core. Coupled with that voice, he could do serious damage to a woman if she wasn't prepared.

"Sit back on the desk," he ground out. "And spread your legs."

She did so and watched with poorly concealed curiosity as he finally unbuttoned his trousers. No pants then, she thought. Looking up then she saw the fire burning in his eyes and she steeled herself for what she knew would quite literally be the fuck of her life.

Severus Snape was no fool. He knew this witch could have any man she wanted with a crook of her wand. And yet, here she was. Spread for him. Well gods be praised, because for once in his life, he was going to enjoy something in this wretched life. Oh, he'd leave here followed by a cloud of self-loathing for fucking a student, former or not, and she'd move on with her life to Weasley or Krum or any number of other, more appropriate, suitors. But for now, he'd simply enjoy the gift that was Hermione Granger. And if he died tomorrow, well then he'd die the happiest and best-laid man in Britain.

Part of him still couldn't believe he had her here, so close. Stretched out, bare. Wet. All that lush, heated flesh inches from his fingers.

He bent his head, moving his tongue over her damp skin with a soft, heated caress. Exploring. Tasting the skin of her neck. Learning the taste and texture of the woman who would be his lover. Arms no longer able to support her, Hermione collapsed onto the desk with him between her thighs.

"You're beautiful." He'd never had the gift of words, but he'd try his damndest for her.

"Please," she whimpered. Begging for something. She might not know what for, but he did. "What are you asking me for?"

"F..fuck me, suck me, anything," she cried, "please…"

His cock was thick, harder than it had ever been. Already, fluid wept from the plum-colored tip of him. God, he wanted her. And she wanted him. He drank in the tiny moan she gave him as she stretched beneath him, seeking more contact.

Never one for intense bouts of staring during sex, Severus found himself unable to look away as he reached down to angle himself properly. He wanted to know her every thought as he took her. Was it as good for her as it was for him? Better?

He drove into her mind as he slid his cock into her body. Her hot, wet pussy was clamped desperately around him, squeezing his cock in a velvet grip, and the sexy little whimpers she was making in his ear were driving him insane. Driving him over the edge. And God, the sense of welcome. Of homecoming. Nothing had prepared him for this. Her mind opened before him as he slid inside her thoughts. Now he truly had all of her. Her emotions overwhelmed him, calmed that terrible thirst.

He wrapped one hand around the back of her neck, holding her still for his kiss. His tongue plunged between her lips, stroking and licking her mouth as if it fascinated him. As if she fascinated him. His hand tangled in her hair, using the long mane to angle her head backward for his deeper kiss. His tongue stroked the roof of her mouth, pressed against her own tongue. Deep, slow strokes that made her grow wetter. Fuller.

Told her exactly what he wanted.

He smelled so damn good. Of outdoors and heat and some tangy musk that belonged to Severus and Severus alone.

From her perch on her desk, Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist. The change in angle forced him deeper and she broke her mouth away from his as she inhaled sharply.

"Fuck," she gasped.

"Indeed," he grated in reply, thrusting harder now.

Her fingers stroking over the harsh planes of his face, his cheekbones, dragging his face down to hers drove him crazy. Burying his mouth against her pulse, he drew her scent deep inside his lungs.

Mine, his mind railed. Mine.

Her hips twisted against his, her pussy squeezing his cock with a delicious urgency.

Pleasure twisting through him, he lowered his head to her shoulder and bit. The skin broke and he tasted blood. Her blood. He took her essence deep into himself. Savored the wild, unfamiliar taste of his sweet female. "Mine," he growled, voicing his riotous, lust-driven thoughts. His mouth moved over the small wound, surrounding it in an erotic, wet heat.

Her breath caught. "Yes," she inhaled. "Severus," she wailed. "Now, damn it."

Desperately now, he pushed his thick cock deeper. Intoxicated with the feel of her, he set a demanding rhythm, but her hips were already rising and falling to meet his. When he came, he felt as though he were flying. Flying apart as he desperately poured himself into her. Desperate for her.

The shadow of his Dark Mark burned into life on his forearm. A sexy slide, like invisible fingers stroking along the maddened length of his cock. It must have been the same for Hermione. She shrieked, sliding upward desperately to meet his next thrust. Connected. Came for him in mindless climax, crying out his name.

The moment his breathing returned to normal he lifted himself off of her and withdrew, leaving Hermione with a disturbing sense of emptiness. He buttoned his trousers and set about picking up her discarded clothing.

As he presented them to her, along with her lost and forgotten underwear, Hermione struggled to find something, anything, to say.

Bloody good fuck, Severus. Thanks.

Well thank you for shagging me silly, sir. I'll send an owl along with a card sometime this week shall I?"

Each suggesting her sex-addled brain provided was dismissed as more ridiculous than the last.

In any event, words were unnecessary as he'd left the moment she took her clothing from him without so much as a by your leave.

Well then, she thought as she re-dressed. And when she finished, she sat down at her desk and resumed her work.

Well I guess I set myself up for a sequel, didn't I?

Review and leave me love, please.