About A Potions Master

Epilogue - A Dash of Lemon

By Pigwidgeon37

Into how many siplets can you divide the last sip of wine? If I drink the last sip of wine, then the dinner will be officially ended, and I’ll finally get what I want… Oh, this is embarrassing. Isn’t there an anti-embarrassment-spell? His eyes… his eyes are literally smouldering…Holy God, I want this… But I can’t just stand up and drag him to the bedroom, can I?

*        *

Severus emptied his wine glass and studied the woman sitting opposite him from under half-closed eyelids, hoping his look wasn’t too lecherous. They had spent a very pleasurable hour and a half, eaten an excellent dinner, talked, apologized to each other, and all the time erotic tension had been sizzling between them. When they had gone to the kitchen to fetch that delicious Apple-and-Gooseberry pie and make coffee, said coffee had been reduced to a thick, undrinkable liquid because they had decided to fill the time until it was ready with kisses…Now, though, she was looking a bit embarrassed. Understandably so. Maybe it was better to ease the tension a little.

“Would you like to go for a walk, Hermione?”

She stared at him, biting her lower lip. “Y-yes, if that’s what you want…”

Disappointment written all over her face. With a sigh, he got up, rounded the table and kneeled down beside her chair. She looked down at him, a little insecure. “Hermione,” he said, taking both her hands in his, “most of all, I want you. So much that I would rather yank you out of this chair, sweep everything off the table and make love to you here and now.” He let go of one of her hands and reached up to cup her right breast through the thin silk shirt she was wearing. Her erect nipple brushed his palm, and he could see her eyes widen and that telltale vein at the base of her throat pulse rapidly. “But,” he continued, releasing her other hand to grant the same treatment to the other breast, “anticipation is everything. We have time. No need to hurry.”

*        *

It was chilly outside, and she returned inside to borrow one of Ginny’s jumpers.  When she was back at his side, he wrapped his right arm around her shoulders, and finally she could respond likewise, encircling his waist with her left, relishing the warmth radiating from him. For a long time, they walked, the silence and the quiet of the world around them caressed by a floating moon with cautious silver fingers.

“You will tell me one day, won’t you?” she asked, looking down on her feet moving through blue-black patches of grass.

“I will.” He came to an abrupt halt and pulled her close, his hands in her hair and his lips touching her forehead. “You have no idea what your voice is doing to me,” he said, his own voice hoarse with passion.

Her fingers glided over his back and shoulders, restlessly exploring what had hitherto been forbidden territory, down to his waist and further on to his buttocks. He groaned and drew her closer still. “Then we should return, maybe?” she said.

Instead of an answer, he let his own hands wander along her sides, searching for the hem of her jumper, creeping underneath and under her shirt, to allow his fingertips to make contact with hot skin that shuddered under his touch; upwards they roamed, until they encountered the swell of her breasts, brushing, stroking, probing; his thumbs found her nipples and circled them, almost without touching them, feathery heat that made her moan and writhe against him. “Yes,” he answered, “I think we should. If you think you are ready for…this. Otherwise I think it would be wiser for me to Disapparate.”

“Don’t you dare!” she muttered, reaching for the nape of his neck to pull him down into a kiss that left them both breathless and panting.

Tongue met tongue; this was familiar already, and so it was safe for her to venture a little beyond the borders of what she had explored so far; from his buttocks, her hands stole their way to his outer thighs, and then her right was irresistibly drawn to his crotch, to cover his bulging erection, rubbing tentatively, feeling it twitch in delighted response.

His hand clamped around her wrist, thus effectively stopping the movement.  “Wait,” he whispered, in a voice so husky that it was almost inaudible; and then, a little louder, with laughter lurking in its depths, “I don’t want your first sexual experience to be in some godforsaken meadow.”

Emboldened by the darkness that made her face almost invisible, she whispered back, “What do you have in mind for me, then?”

“Don’t ask,” he said, taking a small step back.

“I’m curious to hear it,” she replied, stepping close to him. “I may be a virgin, but I’m by no means an innocent. Tell me, Severus.”

Her arms came round his waist again, he felt her breasts through the jumper she was wearing, and gave permission to his hands to grab her bum, hold it tightly and knead her buttocks. “I want to go back inside, straight to the bedroom—”

“Good,” she purred, rubbing against him, “and then?”

“To rip every single piece of clothing off your body, make you sit down on the edge of the bed and dedicate the next half-hour to kiss and bite and lick every square inch of your skin.” His right hand went further down and between her legs, gently stroking her there. She emitted a soft moan that nearly undid him.

“Yes,” she sighed, “And then?”

“Then, Miss Granger, I’d like to kneel down between your legs, to taste you and stroke you with my tongue where I’m touching you right now—” he increased the pressure of his fingers “—to make you moan and writhe under my hands and scream my name—Don’t tell me you just had an orgasm,” he said, continuing to caress her through her trousers while she shivered against him.

“I… the evidence seems to point in that direction,” she responded, a little weakly. “Severus, if you ever want to give up teaching, you can make a fortune just by doing phone sex.”

He chuckled. “A most interesting perspective. You will work at the Ministry, and I’ll just stay home, looking after the children, while talking dirty to frustrated housewives. Are you up to walking?”

“A little weak in the knees, but I think I’ll make it to the house. Did you say children?”

“Did I say children?”

“Of course you did!”

“Why did you ask, if you are sure?”

“Spiteful bastard!”

“Weak-kneed Gryffindor!”

“Maybe. But what about the children?”

“Don’t you want any?”

“I asked first, Severus, so kindly answer my question.”

“Well,” he said, trying to adapt the length of his strides to hers, “It might be nice, someday. Although I’ll make an awful father.”

“Mmmh, I’m not sure I’d be a good mother. But we could keep them in a box…”

“With a hole in its lid to put the food through…”

“I’m glad we share the same view. But seriously, Severus. You don’t want them right now, do you?”

“Certainly not. First, I want some time with you alone, to have my wicked, wicked ways with you…”

“Corrupt me…”

“Entirely,” he agreed gravely and pushed the entrance door open. “And I want to start right now.”

She gave a squeal when he swept her up into his arms. “Severus! Don’t you think this is a bit too clichéd?”

“No,” he replied, kicking the bedroom door open, “Just a safety measure, to prevent you from running off in a fit of jitters. Light or dark?”

“Half-light would be wonderful,” she said, and giggled when he dropped her onto the bed.

“Like this?”

“Yes, that’s perfect.”

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up at him, smiling. “You know you don’t have to do this now, if you don’t feel like it,” he said, suddenly serious. “I won’t pretend I’d be happy to wait, but I would wait, as long as it takes.”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to wait. I want you now. If possible, without clothes.”

He nodded and held out his hand to pull her up. It was warm in the room, but she shivered when he opened the buttons of her blouse, slowly, taking his time.  Then, he slipped it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, taking in her naked torso.

His hands came to rest on her shoulders, and he shoved her backwards, until the hollows of her knees met the edge of the bed and she had to sit down. He kneeled in front of her, his head now level with her breasts, and caught her in a light embrace. His cheek leaned against her chest, and she could feel his breath caressing her skin, and then his cheek rubbing against her, while his hands danced over her back. She closed her eyes to shut down every other sense and thus intensify the sensation of his skin against hers, accentuated by the first traces of rough stubble on his jaw, and by the almost imperceptible roughness of his fingertips. He gave her time to become used to the sensation, and only when he felt her relax under his touch did he begin to first kiss her breasts, then let his tongue glide over the nipples, and finally take them into his mouth, sucking and teasing.

Blindly, she searched for the buttons of his shirt. Her fingers were trembling, and it took her some time to open those she could reach. Behind her back and never interrupting the contact between his lips and her breasts, he opened the shirt cuffs. When he felt her tugging the garment out of the waistband of his trousers, he sat back on his heels for a moment and pulled it over his head. For a while, she was content to let her hands familiarize themselves with the texture of muscles under skin, eyes wide open now and taking in every detail.

Unwilling to break the contact, but willing to give it up briefly in order to get more, she leaned back a little and said, “I want you up here, with me.”

He nodded, stood, and was surprised when her hands moved to the fly of his trousers. “Wait,” he said, covering her fingers with his hands, “I don’t regard myself as overly vain, but I will not stand before you in socks and shoes.”

She giggled, almost grateful that the tension had been momentarily broken, and watched him shuck off his shoes and socks. His feet were long, but narrow and high-arched. He stepped near her again and smiled down at her, but during this short entr’acte, she had lost some of her courage. “You do it,” she said, “I’ll just watch.”

The trousers fell. “Oh,” she said, “The poll was right. Boxers. But I’m the only one who knows that they’re dark green silk.”

“Black or green or grey. Never another colour,” he retorted, grabbing her hands and pulling her to her feet again.

She laid a tentative hand on his erection while he undid her trousers. She could feel him better now, with only one silky layer between skin and skin, and saw his abdominal muscles contract in a visible effort to control himself.

“Later,” he muttered into her ear and pushed her back onto the bed.

She scooted a little towards the other side, so as to make room for him. He sat down, swung his long legs up onto the bed and lay down, propped up on his left elbow, facing her. His legs were exactly as she had pictured them, slim and elegant, and not very hairy. Her left hand went out to touch his hip and glide downwards, over his thigh, with firm pressure so she could feel the muscles under her palm. She saw the flicker in his eyes, and then he was over her, still gentle but less controlled than before; the raven wing of his hair tickled her face and neck while he kissed her, encircling her shoulder with his left arm.  His right hand reached down to her thighs and knees, causing her to moan into his mouth when the hand came up towards her centre where she could feel the heat pooling and coiling up, ready to spread throughout her body.

“Yes,” he muttered and parted her legs, and put his hand over her mound, cupping it and rubbing gently, “Let’s do that once again, and properly.”

She helped him to pull down her panties and, for a moment, was very conscious of her complete nakedness, but then his hand returned to its previous position, and she gasped against his throat at the intensity of the sensation.

“Oh, yes,” he murmured again, and moved his fingers a little so that they slid between her wet folds.

She cried out at the contact and searched his lips for another kiss, to have an anchoring point, something solid in a world that started to spin and become blurry. When he slid a finger inside her, she dug her nails into his shoulders and arched into him, so she could feel more of his skin and his warmth. A second finger joined the first, their tips found a deliciously sensitive spot inside her and grazed it, again and again, until she thought she’d go mad with pleasure. Then the fingers retreated and she gave a sound of protest.

“Don’t be so impatient,” he said, nuzzling her cheek, “there’s more.”

“Understatement,” she managed to articulate, just barely, when he spread her wetness carefully and repeatedly rubbed her clitoris in the process. Then the two fingers delved into her again, and his thumb remained on her nub, increasing and decreasing the pressure until he had found just the right amount to make her emit sounds of pleasure she would never have thought herself capable of. But control belonged to another time, maybe even another planet, and now there was only that intense pleasure and her screams and moans echoing in her own ears, underscored by his heavy breathing. It took her longer to come this time than outside in the field, and it was far more intense, so much so that she was glad she wasn’t standing on her feet. His fingers stayed inside her when the contractions ebbed slowly away; they made minuscule movements to prolong her pleasure as much as possible. Finally, he slowly retreated them and rested his hand on her belly in an almost soothing gesture.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. His face was tense and his features sharpened by the flickering shadows the candlelight painted on his skin. Her hand came up to cup his cheek. “Anything the matter?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No.” His vice was a little raucous. “Just the beauty of passion on your face. It left me…speechless. It is amazing to see that I am able to give so much pleasure.”

“Did you doubt it?” she whispered.

Now he smiled again. “I’m not sure. But if I doubted it before, I don’t anymore.”

They kissed again, gentleness searing through their bodies. She shivered, and wrapped her hand around his erection. “Give me more pleasure,” she said, not quite sure of her voice.

“It might not be too pleasant this first time.”

“Are you stalling?”

He chuckled. “No, love, I’m not stalling, I’m bursting. I just… well, it might be less pleasant than you are expecting.”

“I think,” she said, circling his nipple with her fingertips, “that I’d like to try all the same.”

“I certainly am the last to object,” he said, assisting her as she pulled down his boxers.

She lay back and relished the sensation of him settling between her legs, of his weight pushing her down. His hair was a curtain that shielded their faces from the candlelight, so that their eyes glittered in the almost-darkness that was filled by their breathing. Then she felt that hardness push against her, better, oh, so much better than his fingers, and ordered herself to relax, just briefly, to allow him easier entrance. Her arms came around his shoulders and neck; she nodded and smiled, and with one swift movement he glided into her, gasping with the sudden hot, wet pleasure that held him tight, and struggling for control.

“Did I hurt you?” he whispered.

She shook her head. “Not really. I… oh…”

And then speech fled her again, because he had begun to move, to pull out and thrust in again; his right hand slipped under her pelvis and pulled her up a little, so that she felt the pressure of his pubic bone against her nub; and again she could do nothing but hold on to him with her arms and legs, letting herself be carried upwards again by his movements and his moans that made her feel as if the nerve ends were pushing though both their skins, entangling themselves with each other like tendrils of greedy ivy.

He resisted just long enough to make her come again, somehow deeper this time and sweeter, longer and more intense, before spending himself inside her, shuddering and biting his lip. The bed was a wild mess now, but it helped her to get hold of the duvet and pull it over the two of them, because suddenly they both felt the relative coolness of the air around them.

“Oh Merlin,” he muttered, coming back to his senses, and prepared to roll off her, but she held him firmly in place. “I’ll become too heavy…”

“Shush,” she said brushing back his hair, “I like it exactly like this.”

THE END