The Burning Pen

TWICE BITTEN
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 17

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 17 ~ Encounter

Suddenly the room blurred and Hermione was flat on her back in the bed, a nude Professor on top of her, almost nose to nose, the wizard smirking as he slowly lowered one of the straps to her nightgown. Desire thrummed through her as she felt the silk fall from her shoulder.

”How’s that for service, witch?” he asked her as he lowered the other strap, then pressed his lips to the curve of her shoulder, lifting her arm and kissing his way up it, slowly and teasingly, suckling her fingers for a moment, Hermione trembling, her core igniting, her body longing for even more contact. Then she had a thought.

”Professor,” she said softly.

Snape was kissing her palm. It was enough to scatter what was in her head. He felt her heart rate increase as he ran his mouth over her fingertips. She responded to him so easily, her breathing becoming heavy, the blood rushing through her veins.

”Mmm?” he answered, nipping at her hand.

Gods, everything he did felt scrumptious. The witch arched under him a bit before she recaptured her train of thought.

”I was just wondering . . . you can move so fast . . .” Hermione said hesitatingly.

Snape stopped kissing her hand and gave her a wry smirk.

”And you’re wondering how fast I could fuck,” he said to her, an eyebrow arched.

”Theoretically . . . yes,” Hermione said, blushing that she would ask him something like that.

Snape studied her for a moment.

”Well, I have no idea, but I suspect if I did apply my ‘speed’ it would seem like a very short, pressure-filled experience for you. Hardly satisfying. Although I would reach climax, you wouldn’t and let us face it, Hermione, bringing you to climax is a large part of my pleasure,” he purred at her, pressing his swollen organ against her thigh for emphasis.

Again, there was an increase in heart rate, the sound of it beginning to fill the wizard’s ears, seeming to sink into his own body, wondrous, powerful, a taste of her Life meant only for him

“And the pinnacle of your own,” he whispered, pulling down her gown and exposing her full, dark-nippled breasts, the tips hardened with desire. He gripped one, squeezing it, then fell to both soft, full mounds, nipping, suckling and licking them slowly, torturing the witch. Hermione moaned underneath him, her hands running over his shoulders as his mouth worked its magic, the wizard inching downward, pulling the nightie further down her body as he proceeded, tonguing her navel, loving the feel of her warm, writhing body under his lips, the scent of her arousal, the soft cries washing over him as he slipped lower, her thighs shifting as he gently nosed her core.

Hermione let out a little cry of protest as he suddenly rose to his knees.

”No . . . no . . .” she breathed.

The witch’s heart was racing now, and she was beginning to perspire, her skin becoming moist and more heated.

”Ssh, witch. I’m only removing your nightgown,” the wizard said, slowing sliding the soft fabric from under her hips and down her legs, revealing her nude body. He looked at her, his dark eyes drifting over her curves until he met her gaze.

”You are truly lovely, Hermione Granger,” he said, spreading her thighs wide then shifting back and lowering his mouth to the witch. Hermione buckled as his tongue found her center of the universe and went into orbit, circling and probing, tasting her sweetness.

“Oh gods!” Hermione shrieked as she orgasmed and Snape drank her down hungrily, not moving from between her thighs until he had savored every drop. This could well be his last time with a woman, and he wanted to carry the memory with him. Slowly he climbed up her body and kissed the witch deeply, sharing her taste before reaching on the nightstand and picking up her wand.

He handed it to the sighing witch and softly said, “Cast a contraceptive spell. You don’t need to give birth to a daywalker.”

Looking dazed, Hermione cast the spell on herself, then Snape took the wand from her, put it back on the nightstand and adjusted himself so the head of his cock rested against her hot core.

He was taking more time than the first time. He hungered for her, but this was different. He was aware of what she was willing to do for him, give up for him and it touched someplace in his dark, cold heart . . . giving it warmth. No one before Hermione Granger had been willing to die for him.

Hermione’s heart was thudding now, and Snape could feel it pounding through him as well, the rhythm of her Life playing for him, beating in his ears, filling him with a powerful desire to take it and to match it. To claim some semblance of it for his own

The Potions master gently lifted her legs to his shoulders, raising himself up on his hands, Hermione looking up into his sharp features, his face framed by his lank, black hair. Her eyes seemed almost luminous as he looked down at the young witch who was so enamored of him. He pressed forward, sliding a bit of his girth inside her warmth, letting out a groan of pleasure as Hermione sighed.

“All of me?” he asked her softly.

”Oh yes . . . yes,” Hermione groaned up at him.

Snape thrust deep inside the witch, Hermione letting out a cry as he hit bottom, filling her completely, his flesh hot, hard and satisfying. The wizard pulled back, watching his partial withdrawal, his thick pale shaft streaked with the witch’s lubrication.

”Again?” he purred at Hermione.

”Yes! Yes!” she gasped, rolling her hips as best she could while trapped under the wizard.

Again, Snape penetrated her smoothly, watching his cock bury itself inside her soft, pink flesh, sliding through her pulsing sleeve with a hiss and jerking her body. Hermione again cried out at the delicious sensation of the wizard taking her, becoming part of her.

”More?” Snape asked her, wanting to hear her say she wanted this, she wanted him inside her as her pounding heart thrummed through him.

Hermione looked up at him wild-eyed. What was he doing? She needed more than this, more of him, constant and strong, not all of these questions.

”Stop teasing me, Professor. Give me what I need,” she gasped up at him, pulling at his waist and drawing the wizard into her. Snape’s eyelids fluttered with pleasure as she squished around him, so aroused it was as if the witch had sprung a leak. His cock was glistening, oiled by her juices.

”Ah, what you need. Yes, I will give it to you, Hermione. All you can stand,” he growled at her.

He listened for a moment, timing her heartbeats, then thrust into her over and over, matching the rapid fire fluctuations of her heart, flowing into her body as if he too were a force of Life as Hermione cried out under him, feeling his power, his strength, his merging, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure as he stared down at her, drinkng in her responses and feeling nurtured, fulfilled. He sped up, grimacing as her tight sleeve caressed him, his loins bouncing against the soft cushion of her buttocks as Hermione sang for him.

”Yesssssss,” Snape hissed at the witch, dropping to her body and kissing her deeply, his pale body flexing, hunching and slapping against the witch, her body folded over, open to his possession, his claiming of her body, his hunger to feel Life around him.

Hermione was lost to the delicious duplicity of the wizard’s supple tongue caressing her mouth and his hard cock caressing the walls of the deepest part of her. It was almost too much as he rode her hungrily, taking everything she was and could ever be. This was more than his vampire influence. She would want him now without any prompting. If he was restored, would he still want her?

Hermione wrapped her arms around Snape’s strong shoulders in a burst of emotion at the thought he might not want her any longer. That this attraction might be just part of what he was, an instinct and nothing more. She clung to him desperately, feeling his muscles flexing beneath her fingers, and the raised welts from the tortures he had suffered for all of them. How would she ever do without him now?

Snape broke away from his possession of her mouth and stared down at Hermione, body to rippling body, sliding against her wet skin. Her cries were clearer now and her heart rate so fast it was nearly frightening. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t get enough of her sweetness, her desire for him egging him on.

Suddenly the wizard released her legs and rolled to the side with the witch, still keeping his rhythm, staying with her for a moment, the two lying face to face, Hermione’s eyes wet and her moans of pleasure increasing as he slid his hands to her buttocks and gripped them, moving her the way he wanted, whirling his pelvis seeking to reach every part of her.

Hermione’s voice became shrill and he felt her tightening, gripping and clutching his cock with a powerful pressure that made him groan loudly as she pulsed around his shaft. Yes, he could feel it . . . the Life of her, burgeoning forth. He slipped the tip of his finger into her rectum and Hermione let out a wail as she felt the small penetration. It felt odd but good, the wizard thrusting his digit gently in counterpoint to his deeper, harder stroke.

”Come for me,” he hissed at her, “let it go, Hermione. Let me feel your flow.”

Hermione felt everything inside her clutch into a ball of tightness, then she exploded with a shrill cry, Snape letting out a small cry of his own as her heat washed over him, bathing him in wetness as she released, shuddering in his arms.

”Yesssss,” he hissed, stopping his movements to enjoy her pulsing and kissing the bliss-filled witch deeply, before pulling out of her and rolling her to her belly and climbing over her, stretching his long frame over her back. He began to kiss and lick his way down her spine, caressing her sides, tasting the salt of her sweat as he tenderly and slowly worked his way down. He bit her buttock gently and Hermione let out a surprised little shriek, then another as he slipped his tongue between her cheeks. Dear gods, the Professor was a freak.

She didn’t care. He felt good as hell doing what he was doing. It was so dirty, but so . . . so intimate. It felt as if he were worshipping every part of her body. Snape parted her legs and laved her pussy once more, collecting her release before straightening and entering her again, pressing her legs back together for the most stimulation, once again raising himself up on his hands so he could watch his penetration and the way her buttocks jiggled and rippled as he bounced. His angle was deeper this way and Hermione keened at how his girth dug into her, stretching her and pulling her as he continued his possession.

“Oh gods, yes, Professor . . . yes!” the witch groaned, “I don’t ever want this to end.”

”I wish it could be so, Hermione,” he said to her softly, speeding up and beginning to pummel Hermione, her declaration going straight to his loins, jerking her body wildly as she once again began to cry out, loving his strength, his hunger, his dominance. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, the Professor’s groans becoming louder and more intense as he drew close to climax.

”You . . . sweet . . . little . . . Gryffindor,” he grunted in pleasure as Hermione howled.

”Give . . . me . . . everything!”

Hermione stiffened then orgasmed again, sending Snape over the edge as well, the wizard slamming his full length into the witch with a choked cry, filling her with his seed, his pale body quaking from the strength of his release. He lay on her back heavily, his face buried in her damp hair, feeling Hermione’s racing heart begin to slow as well as her body relaxing, sated.

“It was good for you, wasn’t it, Hermione?” he asked her.

”Yesss,” Hermione said tiredly, her cheek lifting as she smiled sleepily.

”It was good for me as well. Thank you,” the wizard said, pulling her hair back and kissing her over the marks on her neck gently. He stared down at them. They were almost completely healed. She would wear those two small scars for the rest of her life. She would remember him every time she saw his mark.

Yes. If he failed tonight, he would still be remembered by someone, and in a good way.

Hermione’s breathing became rhythmic and Snape realized she was asleep. Gently, he withdrew, letting out a little hiss as he slid out of her warmth, his now flaccid organ dangling. Seeing his size against her small, plump buttocks he thought it amazing the witch could take him like she did. But just because Hermione was a rather small witch didn’t mean she didn’t have a huge appetite.

And she definitely did.

Snape eased out of the bed, his clothing materializing on his body. He reached into his robes pocket, pulled out his wand and Scourgified Hermione along with the bed. Then he magically covered her with the sheets. He stared down at the witch.

”Sleep well, Hermione,” he said quietly, pulling her hair back once more and gazing down on her profile. He looked at her a long moment, before turning and exiting her room.

He strode back into the large chamber. Ron and Harry were both sitting at the table, looking at him with almost identical scowls. Adam and Victor were gone.

Snape walked over to the pitcher of blood, removed the stasis spell around it and poured himself a glass, drinking it down thirstily before looking at the two young wizards with a sneer.

”Is there a problem?” he asked the vampires.

”Next time, at least use a Silencing spell,” Ron said darkly, “We have enhanced hearing, remember? You’re a bloody animal, Professor. Hermione was screaming as if you were killing her.”

Harry didn’t say anything. He was squicked as well as angry, though it was Hermione’s choice to let the Professor shag her.

”I assure you, Miss Granger still lives,” the Potions master said, sitting down and stretching out his legs.

“You like hurting her,” Ron said to him vehemently, “You’re a sadistic bastard, that’s what you are. I’d never treat her like that . . . never!”

”And you would probably lose her within a week of your first performance, Mr. Weasley,” Snape replied with a knowing smirk. “Let us just say that Miss Granger’s insatiable hunger is not solely restricted to the 'acquisition of knowledge.'”

”YOU SHUT UP!” Ron screamed at him, leaping out of the chair.

Harry tried to stop him from charging Snape but Ron was already almost on him when the wizard hit him squarely in the face from a sitting position, sending the young wizard flying.

Ron landed on his back, pulled out his wand and screamed, “AVADA KEDAVRA!” bathing Snape in the dread green light as Harry raced toward him.

”Stop it, Ron! Are you insane?” Harry screamed at him, tearing the wand out of his hand. Slowly he turned to look at Snape, who was still sitting in the chair, his legs outstretched, completely unaffected by the spell, his eyes narrowed as he looked at Ron. Then his gaze shifted to Harry.

”Still think I should trust Mr. Weasley to have my back, Mr. Potter?” he asked him silkily.

Harry was forced to admit that he shouldn’t. Ron was not just a possible liability.

He was a real danger.

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A/N: Thanks for reading.

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