5

Ok, so that last bit was very emotionally intense for me. Don't laugh, I do get emotional, just not as much as other women because I tend to be so rational. Hell, can you imagine Sev with an emotional woman? No? Good. Don't go imagining my husband with any other women. Ever. He's mine, damn it.

Anyways, this next bit will be tricky for me to put down. Not because of the kinky parts, but because the majority of that next day seriously sucked. We'd just had this wonderful night...and then he turned back into a little shit the next day. I mean, serious stick-up-his-ass, bite-your-head-off stuff. And the worst thing was, I hadn't a clue what I'd done to earn his ire. It actually brought back to mind my days in school, which was a little disconcerting let me tell you, because no one wants to think back to the time when the man you're currently fucking was your teacher. Its just...grodie. I mean, I can't ever forget the years he spent as my snarky potions professor. Nor would I want to. But I try to disconnect the scary man I met when I was eleven from the loving, sometimes still snarky man that is my husband. Our age difference doesn't bother me at all, but its just odd for me to think of him back when he was still in love with my best friend's dead mother. I'm not jealous of what he felt for Lily- its what kept me and my friends alive, and its what turned him back to the light all those years ago. But that doesn't mean that I want to spend any time thinking back to when he was in love with her.

So there I was, baffled and getting more miffed by the minute. Ever since he'd stormed out on me that morning, I had tried to turn my mind to other things. Usually I am very good at compartmentalizing. How else do you think I got such good marks in school whilst trying to save the world? But that day I couldn't focus on anything but the way Sev had been acting. He didn't make my tea. I tried to tell myself that he just forgot. Which actually hurt much more than it should have. So what if he forgot my tea? But it stung. And worse was the thought that he'd done it intentionally. Purposely hadn't made it because it was something I liked and he was punishing me somehow. But what had been my crime?

He ignored me at lunch and snapped at me that he wasn't coming to dinner. I was practically tearing my hear out by the time night fell. What the hell was going on? I pulled another comfort book out to flip through (Hogwarts, A History this time...another one I'd memorized every line of six years ago) and settled into my chair to wait him out. It got later and later. I stifled a dozen yawns and glared determinately at his door. Was he hoping I'd be in bed when he finally came out? That I would run away rather than face him? Fat chance. The Gryffindor in me, as well as the woman in me, wouldn't allow that.

Finally, the door to his study opened. Despite my earlier convictions, I felt a frisson of trepidation. He was a very powerful man. I trusted him, but he could be scathing when he wanted. I had no desire to come under the lash of his tongue. I didn't feel quite up to verbally sparring with him after the day I'd had. Instead of storming up to him and demanding an explanation which had been my original intention, I pretended to be absorbed in my book. It wasn't exactly the cowards way out...but it wasn't exactly courageous either. I saw him stop just inside my peripheral vision. He was staring at me. I couldn't quite read his expression. He ran a hand through his hair, which I'd learned he only did when extremely agitated. I still pretended to be wholly engrossed in my book. Only when he cleared his throat to get my attention did I finally look up. I offered a small smile- as if I hadn't seen him come in, as if I hadn't spent the whole day agonizing over what could possibly be wrong, as if he hadn't treated me like a second class citizen from dawn onward. He didn't smile back. Shit.

I went to him when he asked (ok, well he actually ordered, but I like to pretend it was a polite suggestion) and as we went up the stairs I tried to ask him what was wrong. He seemed even angrier and told me nothing was wrong. Riiiight. And they serve popsicles in hell.

When we got upstairs he gestured me through the door and didn't follow me. I turned and saw him standing just outside the doorway. He had his hands braced on doorjamb, his head down as if fighting some terrible inner battle. I could see the muscles in his shoulders and arms flex and bunch. I was struck by just how powerful this man really was. When he finally looked up, there was a look of desolation and pain so acute on his features that it made me ache for him. It was gone in a millisecond, replaced by single minded determination. I flashed him my half-smile again. He kept his face carefully blank then and came into the room, closing the door behind him. I actually jumped a little at the sound, I was so worked up. I gave a nervous laugh, hoping to lighten the mood.

Nothing. Talk about a tough room.

He told me to strip and I did, then turned and got into the bed without being told. He strode purposley over to the bed and turned me over to my hands and knees. Nothing unusual yet. He waited a moment, probably making sure I wasn't going to turn back and look at him. When I stared ahead obediently, I heard him taking his clothes off. Then he was up on the bed behind me. After only the slightest touch to see how wet I was, he slammed into me. I almost gasped. It wasn't painful, but I was shocked. He'd never been like this before. Even at his roughest he took more time to get me ready. As he started to move, his hand snaked around my hips and stroked me. My body sat up to attention, swallowing down earlier surprise to focus only on the pleasure now. I adjusted quickly and was just starting to push back onto him, to give as well as I got, when something...unexpected happened.

So, lets get this out of the way right now. I have said already that my sexual experience, while perfectly passable, was fairly simple. I'd heard of lots of different crazy things people did during sex, and I'd formed opinions about a few of them in a clinical way. When he'd been trying to scare me away, Sev had mentioned taking my ass. It had sent an unexpected jolt of pleasure through me at the time. When I'd considered it before, in the abstract and remote way of someone who never expects to really be in that position, I'd never found it to seem particularly exciting. From what I'd read and heard it was something that some guys liked that could be really painful for the woman if it wasn't done right. I'd always assumed that if I was ever with someone who wanted to try it, I would be willing to attempt it—in a very controlled, very slow and cautious manner. So while Sev's dirty talk had been a turn on, having him actually touch me there scared the hell out of me.

Another thing I just want to add on this subject is that I can't suggest this manner of introduction to this act. It worked for me, for us. Sev knew exactly what he was doing and (though it didn't seem like it at the time) was very careful to do it right. I know it sounds hypocritical coming from someone as submissive as me, but don't read this and then go off and tell your boyfriends to hold you down and roughly fuck your ass. Now, if you have your own personal Sev, that's different. And if you have your own personal Sev then you've already done it and experienced the holy-mother-of-Godrick-is-it-possible-to-die-by-or gasm pleasure that can come from it. But if you don't have your own personal Sev like I am lucky enough to have, then don't try this at home boys and girls.

Back to the sex...I gasped and squirmed away from his touch when his fingers touched me there. I could feel a very strange cool, slippery sensation where his fingers touched. It was odd, disconcerting, and I'll admit, a little scary. He pulled me back roughly and touched me again, more insistently. I tried to turn to look at him.

"Don't," he snapped at me. There was such venom in his voice that I didn't even consider disobeying. "We are going to do something a little different tonight, pet. I think when we first discussed this venture I promised to take your ass. And I'm a man of my word."

He sounded so dark, angry and tense, like a stranger. I was tense and frightened and I didn't know what to think. This wasn't how I imagined my first encounter of this sort to go and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. And he didn't seem prepared to give me time to sort it out in my head.

"Severus, I'm not-" I didn't get a chance to try and figure out what I was going to say, because he cut me off.

"Unless you're physically hurt, don't say another fucking word." He thrust deeply into me to punctuate his words. A shudder of pleasure went through me, despite my unease. He had learned my body so quickly, memorized my every sweet spot so that he could pluck my body like a harp and make it sing for him. "This is what I want to do tonight, pet. And so its what we are doing. So either shut up...or get out." Then he stopped moving all together, letting me decide. Always, it came down to my decision. My choice. Stay and submit, or leave. I tried to think clearly, to decide rationally if this was what I wanted but all I could focus on was the hard length of him buried deeply inside of me, the pleasure throbbing inside me building and building. And it all came down to one crystalline point. I didn't want to leave him.

My decision made, my whole body relaxed. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

"You won't hurt me," I whispered. I don't know if it was a reminder to him or to myself. I needed to hear the words out loud and he didn't seem inclined to say them right then. But I knew they were true. Whatever else he was, whatever else he would do, I knew he would never consciously hurt me or cause me injury. I reminded myself of all the other times he'd had my body totally at his mercy and never once caused me any pain. I closed my eyes as he started moving his hand against me again, trying hard to breathe normally.

"Relax," he snapped at me.

"I'm trying!" I bit out. I half expected him to snarl some insult but he didn't. He just kept pressing against me; maybe even a little more gently. I took in a deep breath and made a conscious effort to relax my muscles. Just a little more pressure and he was able to slip one finger into me. I gasped.

Let me just say, that if you've never had anything go in there, then you have absolutely no idea what it feels like. You might think you can guess. But you can't. At all. Its the strangest sensation that first time. Its odd and disconcerting and uncomfortable.

That aside, as soon as he started rocking his hips again, stroking my clit while his cock throbbed inside of me, I discovered the weirdest thing I'd ever experienced up to that point in my life. It felt...good. My brain kept telling my body that I must have some wires crossed because there was no way this felt good, but there was no denying it. It was erotic because of its strangeness. It was an entirely new sensation and somehow, impossibly, as he stroked three nerve hotspots at once, I was loving it. I was on sensory overload, my head trying desperately to keep up with everything going on. Before my brain could catch up, by body left it in the dust and raced toward orgasm. My muscles started to tense as I got close to that explosive precipice. I started gasping my breaths, pleasure shooting through me-

And he pulled out! I let out what I'm sure was a very ladylike garble meant to mean something along the lines of, 'why, Severus, I do believe you have withdrawn only moments before I was able to achieve orgasm. Would you kindly put that back so I can finish before I go stark raving mad from deprivation and leap at you?' and in actuality came out as "Gaaahhh-whh-ooohhhhh!" Like I said. Very ladylike.

Thankfully he didn't have time to laugh at me. Sev moved the hand that was between my legs, twisting so that he could sink two of his long fingers into me and still stroke my clit with his thumb. I closed my eyes in pleasure once again, my orgasm so close I could taste it. Before I could snatch the prize right in front of me, he pulled his other finger out of me and then repositioned the now very slippery head of his cock against my ass. My brain started screaming RED ALERT RED ALERT – INTRUDER EMMINENT! But my body was too caught up to care. He kept stroking between my legs with deliberate slowness, his fingers curling inside of me and rubbing against a sensitive spot guaranteed to make me melt. I kept waiting for my orgasm to crash into me, but it stayed just out of reach.

It seemed like hours but I know it was only moments. I thought I would go crazy if I couldn't come. I needed release, any way I could get it. I was desperate, a mindless slave to my need. I actually found myself pressing back onto him, knowing that if I could just get him to fill me, any way, any how, I would finally get relief. My poor brain was still trying to cope, rationality screaming at me that I must be going crazy because I should be afraid of this- it could hurt!- but my libido had brought along a few hundred thousand friends and they were all screaming yes yes anything!- and drowning rationality out.

When I started pushing back onto him, Sev finally started moving his hips again. It was painstakingly slow. He only moved a fraction of an inch at a time, giving my body time to adjust to him. I didn't want slow and cautious right then, though. I wanted him, all of him. There was no pain at all, just intense, unimaginable pleasure. When he was finally buried all the way inside of me I wanted to scream from the rapture coursing through my body. He pulled back, then pushed slowly back into me. I could no longer move- just accept the pleasure and grip the sheets as if they were my only link to the world and without my white-knuckle hold on them I would simply combust and float away.

Then when he pulled back again, my body snapped back to life. I couldn't wait any longer. I had to come, now. Before he could slowly thrust back into me, I pushed back and hard, burying him into me. I didn't know how else convey what I needed. My words were gone, all thoughts but those of pleasure gone. But he knew what I wanted. He stopped moving slowly and gently. He thrust hard and fast, taking me roughly. His thumb started stroking my clit quickly and his fingers were moving in and out of me.

"Harder," I finally managed to moan. I wanted more. More of him, more of this. I was there, there. "Fuck me harder!" I was screaming at him and didn't care, couldn't care, could only feel and ride the pleasure and burn burn burn from the inside out. He pumped into me harder and harder, fucking me powerfully, masterfully, savagely. It was everything I could have ever wanted in that moment, things my brain couldn't comprehend to ask for. He was taking me and dominating me and marking me as his in a way that I was helpless to resist. I couldn't do anything but let the fire consume me and submit myself to the pleasure he was lashing me with. It seemed to go on forever. I heard his own hoarse cry behind me but the sound came as though from far away because of the roar of blood rushing in my head. He swelled, throbbing inside of me, and then his own release came over him.

Finally my voice gave out and I stopped screaming. I felt so weak I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold myself up. In a slow, deliberate movement Severus pulled out of me. We both moaned. When he was out, I collapsed unceremoniously into a heap on the bed. My arms were sprawled awkwardly under me but I couldn't rouse myself to care. My racing heart was starting to calm and I could finally breathe again. Our bodies were both covered in sweat but there was a slight breeze floating through the room and cooling us off as we lay there. I tried to put my brain back to rights. If anyone could have seen into my head right then it would have looked as if there had been a tornado. A dozen tornadoes. Misconceptions, protests and fears were scattered on the floor where I'd discarded them. The walls were streaked with the color of pleasure as if a bomb of it had gone off and coated every surface. Words floated in the air in meaningless strings. I should say something...but every time I tried to snatch at the words they slipped through my fingers.

Before the dust had settled in my brain and I could form words, Sev grabbed me and carried me to the bathroom. When we were in the shower he stood me up. I was still leaning on him for support because I honestly didn't think my legs would hold me up. The hot water that sprayed out of the shower felt like heaven. My face tipped down until my forehead was resting against the muscles of Sev's chest. My eyes were closed but I could appreciate the masculine beauty of him even without seeing him. (Don't tell him I described him as beautiful...he'll throw a fit. But he really is beautiful in a manly way.) I still wanted to say something to him but had no idea what to say.

In my silence, Sev started washing my hair. I'm sure it seems like an innocuous act, but it touched me deeply. I think that's what snapped me back into my right mind. It was just so...sweet. So very un-Snape-like. And I couldn't help wonder if this was an apology? Was he uncertain? Was he rewarding me? I didn't care. I just enjoyed the contact. His fingers felt like heaven as they massaged my scalp and worked shampoo through my thick hair. When he was done and letting the water rinse it clean, I finally got my arms to function properly and put them around him in a hug. I took a few deep breaths just holding him. I hoped that I would get to hold him more often. It soothed me.

A moment later, Sev slipped one crooked finger under my chin and tipped my face up to him. I let my hands wander over his back as I blinked up at him. I wore what I'm sure can only be described as a stupid grin on my face. I felt as if I'd stepped into a dream, a dream with unearthly orgasms and hot showers with even hotter potions professors and love and every other sticky sweet emotion that exists.

"How do you feel?" he asked roughly. I was about to answer without thinking but stopped. How was I feeling? I took mental stock of my body, flexing various muscles to make sure I hadn't hurt anything in my hedonistic orgasm. Nothing hurt. I was sure I'd feel like I ran a marathon tomorrow, but I could deal with that. All that was left was this disconnected feeling.

"Loose," I said finally. It was the best way to describe it. I mean, bloody fucking hell that had been intense. My body was still trying to recover from that much pleasure.

"Loose," he repeated the word as if it were foreign to him.

"Boneless," I added. "Tired. Sated. Shocked."

"Shocked?" His voice took on a hard edge. I thought it was anger at first. Then I realized it was trepidation. My heart melted for him.

"I didn't know it could be like that," I admitted. "I had absolutely no idea. Now I feel foolish for putting up any fight at all. I should have known. You were right, Sev. I need to trust you." I hugged him tightly and rested my cheek against his sternum. I wondered if it was like that for everyone. Somehow I was fairly certain that it was especially enjoyable because it was him.

"You...enjoyed that, then?" His usually snide voice sounded almost uncertain. He was covering it well, but I could hear it under his rough words.

"Enjoyed?" I looked back up at him and cocked a brow. "That was more than just enjoyment. That was beyond anything I've ever felt. It was like I'd only felt the tip of the iceberg with all my past experience with pleasure and then all of a sudden I got all the rest of it at once!"

"Oh."

I blinked at him. That was all he had to say? I'd just had the best orgasm of my life and all he could say was oh? I wanted to say 'well fuck you very much,' but resisted.

"Oh? That's it? Oh? You didn't enjoy it too?" I tried to scowl at him but I was face to face with the king of scowling. He didn't seem affected. He returned it with a scathing look of his own.

"Don't be stupid," he scoffed. "Of course I did. I just assumed that you-" he paused and then started again. "I thought-" He stopped again and ran a hand through his wet hair. Was he really that agitated by this? "God fucking damn it! I thought you would hate me for doing that to you!"

"Hate you?" Shock colored my tone. I had no idea what he meant. "Why would I hate you?"

"Don't be obtuse, Hermione. I know you got pleasure from it but-" I started laughing before he could finish.

"Got pleasure from it? Gee, what gave me away? Was it the five minute long screaming orgasm?" I batted my wet lashes up at him. He took my chin in his hand and glared at me without any real malice.

"Careful with that smart mouth of yours, pet." His voice had none of its usual steel. Under the sensual growl I could hear the first hints of amusement. I smiled.

"I don't know...if this is what happens every time I piss you off, I might just have to do it more often."

"Once again, Hermione. You did not piss me off."

"Say what you will, but something I did got your knickers in a twist." I smirked at him and his mouth popped open. I was fairly certain it was the first time anyone had ever said that to him.

"I was merely attempting to show you, that I am not a good man. You seem to be under a serious misimpression about me." He spoke with slow deliberateness. As if he were trying to explain theoretical mechanics to a first year.

"Is that what all this was about? The whole day, you being cranky as a bear with a sore tooth was all because I told you that you were a good man last night?" I put my hand on his chest right over his heart. This was all his way of...protecting me? From himself? I decided right then that he was crazy.

"I suppose you could put it that way."

"And tonight...that has been your way of opening my eyes or something?"

"Showing you the type of man I really am, yes."

"And now I'm supposed to hate you, or think less of you?" I couldn't believe he could believe that, but he nodded.

"Its what I had assumed."

"Severus Snape, when did you become an idiot?" I glared at him and didn't back away when his eyes narrowed on me.

"I beg your pardon," there was a bite to his voice but I held my ground. Or tile, I guess, as we were still in she shower.

"Thats right, you're being an idiot! A dolt! A nitwit! You're dominant and forceful and rough and you take what you want and don't put up with any bullshit. You're kinky as hell. But you've always made sure I was satisfied, you've promised never to hurt me and you've kept that promise. You made damn sure I knew that I could walk away- even though you knew that I wouldn't. Tonight you did something that I didn't want to do and I was afraid of. But you told me to take it or leave and I made my decision. And then you made it the most pleasurable thing I've ever experienced. How is that supposed to show me you aren't a good man?" I searched his face, trying to see through his eyes, how he could possibly think those terrible things about himself. Didn't he see even a fraction of what I saw in him?

"I forced you to do something you didn't want to do," he bit out. He said the words as if they were bitter in his mouth.

"Yeah, Sev, you did." I bit my lip and tried to concentrate on how to say what I wanted to say. How to express what I felt. "You're forcing me to be open to new things. Things that if I wasn't in this position I would never try. But things that I love. You didn't frighten me or convince me that you're a bastard. You reinforced my trust in you more than anything else could have. I won't argue with you about sex stuff again. Ever. You want a pliant and willing sex toy, you've got it. If a day ever comes that you break your promise to me or we do something I can't like, then I'll reconsider. But for now, maybe truly for the first time, I'm yours. Wholly and completely." I meant every word and I willed him to believe me. I'd fallen in love with him the night before and tonight I was surrendering everything to him. Fears I didn't know I'd had were washed away.

Sev took a deep breath and then his arm came around me. He pulled me close against his body and cradled my head with his other hand. He kissed me, not the punishing kiss and not the almost-love kiss. It was relief and gratitude and shock. Then it dissolved into that almost-love kiss. Slow and sweet and sensual. When we parted, we were both breathelss. Severus kept his head bent down to mine, our foreheads resting against each other. With every breath our noses brushed in a way that reminded me of muggle Eskimo kisses.

"Severus?" I whispered. He blinked at me in a soft, unfocused way.

"Yes?" His voice was deep and husky.

"Just don't expect me to be a mindless submissive puppet outside the bedroom, ok?" I didn't think it would be a problem, but I wanted to make that point perfectly clear. He chuckled darkly.

"With that smart mouth of yours, pet, how could I expect anything less?" I smiled and laughed with him. We were rinsing off the last of the soap suds and getting ready to step out of the shower when something occurred to me. Something huge. Somewhere along the way, 'pet' had stopped being an insult or even a derisive nickname. It had become an endearment. Severus wasn't a man to say things like my love or dear or sweetheart. But every time he called me pet after that, those were the things I heard.

He still calls me pet to this day, though now he mostly uses it in the bedroom so that the kids don't pick up the habit and start calling their friends pet. Then we would have some serious exlpaining to do. I can just imagine Ginny demanding to know why my son is calling her daughter his pet. Though, admittedly, I've always harbored secret hopes that someday Lily Potter will become Lily Snape. A strange thought, perhaps, that someday Lily will finally come into the Snape family through my son. We are all of us inextricably bound together. Time runs ever onward and yet somehow history repeats itself. Sev is worried that if I keep allowing the children to play together one of the twins will end up married to one of Ron's sons and become 'mother to a ginger herd.' I always laugh, but the possibility has occurred to me. Is the universe correcting past wrongs? Without Voldermort, would Sev have ended up with Lily? Would I have ended up with Ron?

If that's the case, I can't help but be grateful for the way things did unfold. Because I wouldn't trade my life for anything.

And on that very sappy note, I'm off to bake some cookies for the kids. Sev complains about the mess in the kitchen but he eats just as many cookies as the children do so I know he doesn't really mind. Maybe I'll even make him help me bake them. Last time he helped he ended up with a Hermione-sized flour hand print on the seat of his black trousers for the rest of the day from where I'd felt him up. Maybe I can get him to put a few Severus-sized flour hand prints in some creative places on me before the kids wake up from their nap...

Ok, everyone, I'm going to shamelessly beg for reviews again. I got so little feedback on the last chapter! I know it was my fault for posting it at 1 am on a Monday night/Tuesday morning, but even still...I need to know what you all think! Pretty please with sugar and a chocolate covered Severus sex god on top?