The Burning Pen

A Turn for the Better
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.

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 51 ~ A Mutual Moment

Severus and Hermione’s mouths met, hunger to hunger, heat to heat, the electricity of their passion crackling through their bodies, the wizard lowering himself to deepen that delicious connection. His body rested on hers as he used his hands to keep his full weight off of her. As Hermione’s arms wrapped around his neck, Snape felt like a man who had finally come home from a long journey.

Oh, the feel of Hermione beneath him was wonderful, heady, the scent of her skin, clean, womanly, and the taste of her mouth, indescribable. Her lips and questing tongue met his own with equal ardor, her breathing heavy and body undulating, her softness like an aphrodisiac.

Hermione tilted her head back, gasping as she felt the Potions master slide his lips to her throat, moving over her flesh, suckling and kissing, almost seeming to taste her. She let out a helpless moan of pleasure, arching up into his hard body. It felt as if she were on fire, waves of desire washing over her as he returned to her mouth for several seconds, then moved lower, shifting his lean body, now moving his mouth over the mound of her right breast, as one hand caressed the curve of the other.

”Oh dear gods,” Hermione hissed as the wizard suddenly stopped, his mouth poised over her puckered nipple, his dark eyes meeting hers. They seemed so large and liquid, Hermione felt hypnotized, then gasped as he flicked his tongue over the tip of her breast, still looking at her, watching her reaction to him.

Hermione’s mouth formed an “o” of pleasure, the feeling intensified by how he was looking at her as he teased her nipple again, catching it gently between his lips and tugging lightly before releasing it. Oh, it was an exquisite torture.

”Your mouth . . . oh, your mouth, Severus,” Hermione breathed, helplessly bringing her hand to the back of his head and pushing downward, feeling his soft, wet mouth cover her nipple and begin to suckle as he swirled his tongue in tangent. It felt so good, as if little sparks of pleasure were shooting through her skin.

Severus gently wrapped his arms around Hermione’s back and pulled her upward as he carefully shifted and helped her adjust her legs so she was on her knees, her breasts jutting out as she arched back over his arms. On his own knees, the wizard bent his body, curling it slightly and shifting back so he could kiss, lick and suckle Hermione’s torso, neck and breasts, driving her wild with his mouth, his hands sliding up the smooth skin of her back, and curling over her shoulders.

”Oh gods, Severus,” Hermione moaned as he changed his worship of her body, his mouth connecting with hers, hungry, demanding, full of need and desire. Once again he explored her mouth like a starving man, delving and tasting, losing himself in his desire for the maddening young woman in his arms.

Gods, she was so young, but so beautiful. And there was a subtle sense of familiarity, even after all these years. Yes, he had her before, but nothing like this. There was nothing of the connection he felt now, or the need that tore through his body. Hermione Granger was his savior, and his weakness. He needed to possess her fully, to bring her into his desire, his hunger, his control. He needed to bury himself in the fullness of who and what she was, what she would become.

Severus Snape never put much truck in heaven, but right now he felt as if he’d found the way to that kind of bliss as his mouth moved over the moaning witch’s flesh, her body arching against him in response. It was more than glorious . . . it was beautiful.

And Hermione . . . she had desired the wizard but had no idea how moving, how all-compassing this would be. His hunger . . . his passion. It was so earth-shaking to be in his arms, to feel his mouth moving over her, to see those dark eyes drinking her in like ambrosia. Merlin, she hungered for him, but never imagined it would be like this.

But, she needed more . . . this was mind-boggling. Exciting. Her body felt as if it were starving, burning . . . and this . . . as good as it was, wasn’t enough. And she wasn’t afraid to say it.

”Severus, take off your clothes,” she breathed into his mouth. “Get naked. I want to see you, touch you. I’ve wanted to touch you for so long.”

The Potions master stopped kissing Hermione, pulling back from her mouth, his dark eyes full of desire.

”Then we both get naked, Hermione,” he hissed at her, his lust taking him over.

Hermione, whose gown was already around her waist, agreed.

”I want to feel you skin to skin,” she said softly. “I want to feel you close to me.”

Snape studied her face, the longing he saw there, the fire that burned only for him and was moved, physically and emotionally. Hermione wanted him.

”Yes, love,” he replied, grazing her lips with his own, then adding, “I plan to get as close to you as humanly possible.”

Snape reluctantly released Hermione, his hands sliding across the soft skin of her back as if to get in one last touch before he moved back on the sofa, then stood, catching Hermione by her hand and helping the witch to her feet. He stared down at her, the gown gathered around her waist, and hair falling over her shoulders reminding him somewhat of a bare-breasted nymph. He made a sound in the back of his throat as Hermione grasped his hands and brought them to the folds of fabric around her waist.

”Take it off, Severus,” she said softly.

His nostrils flaring, Snape slowly knelt, drawing the gown over her hips, thighs and legs. One of her hands rested on his shoulder as Hermione stepped out of the fabric. The wizard’s eyes rested on the little heart-shaped bush at her apex, and he couldn’t help smirking slightly at the design, a rather raunchy thought making its way into his head for a moment. A heart was cute . . . but a better design might have been a bull’s-eye.

He pushed the naughty thought out of his head as he stood. Still there was a tiny, residual wicked gleam in his dark eyes.

Hermione stared up at him, her brown eyes flicking down to his tented pajama bottoms.

”Your turn,” she said huskily, expectancy and excitement on her face.

”You like giving orders, don’t you, witch?” Snape purred at her.

”I’m naturally bossy,” Hermione replied, pulling on the elastic of his pajamas and letting it snap back naughtily.

Snape wondered if she would be ‘bossy’ in the bedroom. That would be an added plus. He liked a woman who would say what she wanted, even demand it.

Without hesitation, Snape drew down his pajama bottoms and stepped out of them, his stiff, pale erection bouncing into view as if it had been on a spring. Hermione’s eyes rounded as she looked at the thick, long tool. She remembered he’d been big, but now he seemed much bigger. She swallowed a little as she stared down at his cock, mesmerized, almost as if she’d forgotten there was a man attached to it.

Snape cleared his throat, and Hermione looked up at him as if he’d suddenly appeared out of nowhere, her eyes slightly glassy. The wizard brought his hand to the curve of her face and caressed it gently.

”It will be fine, Hermione,” he said softly. “We aren’t strangers. Now, you said you wanted to touch me. You can start anywhere.”

Hermione blinked at him, and decided to take the bull by the horns, or the Potions master by the wand. Bravely, she curled her warm palm around the shaft of his organ, the wizard jerking and letting out a hiss in response, his lower lip trembling a moment as he looked down at her hand, thinking it was the most erotic sight he’d ever seen.

Hermione noticed his response, and it made her feel . . . well, more in control. Obviously her touching him this way gave him great pleasure. He kind of felt at her mercy.

How much mercy did she have? In this situation, not much. She brazenly cupped his balls with her other hand and was rewarded with another jerk and shudder from the wizard. She began to gently massage the soft, cool sack in one hand, and tenderly caress his length with the other, looking up at him as his head shifted back, his eyelids fluttering, his loins helplessly pushing forward as she worked her hands and fingers, shifting the stones inside between them.

”Dear Merlin,” Snape breathed as she manipulated his most sensitive area, his cock feeling as heavy as stone in her soft, inquisitive hands. His voice was so full of pleasure Hermione felt an answering pulse between her thighs.

His foreskin was delicate and bunched under her movements, and she saw the pinkish head was leaking murky fluid. She ran a thumb over it, spreading it over the bulbous tip, making it glisten as if oiled. Snape let out a groan, suddenly leaned forward, bending slightly and kissing her mouth hungrily, his hands at his sides, only their lips connecting.

Hermione returned his kiss, opening her mouth and letting him enter, while still caressing his cock, loving the ardor of his kiss, the way he was sucking her tongue into his mouth, lapping at it and entwining it in his own. His breathing was harsh, and she could feel the warmth of his exhalation on her face as those large nostrils pulsated fiercely. She might not have much experience, but right now, she was the one in control.

Snape suckled, lapped and invaded Hermione’s mouth as she handled him, forcing himself not to grab her. If he grabbed her, more than likely they wouldn’t make it to his bedroom, he wanted to feel her around him so badly. But Hermione wasn’t having it.

”Touch me, Severus,” she hissed against his mouth, and he brought his hands directly to her breasts, grasping and massaging them, making Hermione’s temperature rise another hundred degrees . . . at least, that’s how it felt to the witch. Still, kissing her, Snape slowly slid one hand down her belly, over the soft heart and slipping a single pale finger between her thighs, touching her wet core. Now, it was Hermione’s turn to jerk and buckle. Snape pressed the other hand against the small of her back as he began to gently rub the witch’s clit, Hermione beginning to writhe, now giving the wizard a hand job in earnest. They stood there, shuddering, kissing and working each other’s bodies hungrily, the scent of arousal filling the study as they engaged.

Hermione was up on her tiptoes, a sweet feeling spreading across her lower belly, swelling at her apex where the wizard’s fingers were playing a symphony on her tender, pink flesh, sticky with her juices. It felt as if a knot were forming inside her, impossibly tight and delicious. A light sheen of perspiration covered her body, and Snape pressed his hand against the small of her back tighter, his fingers splayed, resting on the curve of her buttocks as he felt her begin to tremble uncontrollably.

”Yes,” he breathed against her mouth. “Come for me, Hermione.”

Suddenly, Hermione let out a cry and clutched his cock tightly in her fist, choking it as she released, Snape curling one arm around her shuddering shoulders and hissing as she tightened her hold on him, drenching his fingers in wetness as she melted, her mouth going slack, her head falling back. Snape stared at Hermione, greatly satisfied as she gave herself over, his mouth watering. Suddenly, he picked her up and quickly sat her on the sofa, angling her so her back rested in the corner on both the arm and back, then knelt.

He jerked her downward a bit, pulling her legs apart, then dove into her moist, pink core, tasting the nectar she had released as she squealed, having never experienced a man’s tongue. Well, she was certainly experiencing it now, her hands tangling in the wizard’s hair as he thoroughly cleansed her of every drop of her climax.

”Oh my . . . Severus! Shit! Shit!” she gasped, writhing under his tongue, the wizard firmly holding her open to him, merciless in his quest to ingest every sweet emission she gifted him with. Finally, he stopped, gently kissing her pussy several times before pulling himself upward, meeting her lips with his own and sharing the flavor of her body. Hermione didn’t balk at it . . . she was in no condition to stop anything he wanted to do to her at this point. She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss passionately, a bit of her hair getting into their mouths as they connected.

They kissed until their breathing slowed to normal, then Snape pulled away, his dark eyes full of hunger.

”The preliminaries are over, Hermione. I believe it is time to retire to my bedroom,” he said softly as he looked into her heated brown eyes.

”Yes, it is,” she agreed, her body feeling boneless, but still hungry.

Snape sat up and pulled her onto his lap. Hermione hissed as her buttocks rested on his erection, which felt like a steel pole wrapped in soft velvet. The wizard stood up and carried her into his bedroom, their eyes locked.

Snape kicked the door closed with his foot, walked forward a foot or two, then stopped in amazement. Hermione felt him stiffen and looked in the direction he was looking, her brown eyes widening in surprise and awe.

”What in the world . . .” she breathed as they both gazed upon Bottleblue’s addition to their night of love.

Snape had to admit, it was inspired.

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A/N: Finally, a chapter for Turn. This chapter was written in bits and pieces. I’m trying to readjust to being a full-time babysitter again, and there are other life issues I’m dealing with. All babies are different, and little Trinity seems to be the crankiest grandchild yet. lol. And Tweet and Terrill are little handfuls.  But, I'm falling into the groove again.  I'll have them under control in a bit . . . just need to fall back into the groove of Authorative Grandma, not "run to" grandma, Ah, change is the only constant in the universe, isn’t it? Well, I hope the chapter came out all right. Thank you for reading. ***

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