The Burning Pen

Why Just Watch?
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 4

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 4 ~ Acceptance

Snape stared down at Hermione, his large nostrils slightly flared, waiting like a serpent waits, silent and curled along the path, ready to coil around the body of its intended and strike, biting deep.

Hermione’s brown eyes looked up into the pale face of her Potions master, remembering his abandon the night she saw him, the night she couldn’t get out of her mind, out of her dreams or out of the bed she occupied with Ron from time to time.

The professor was right.

If she didn’t do this, she would always wonder what it would have been like to be with a man like him.

“I’ll do it, professor,” Hermione said softly despite the pounding in her ears from her racing heart.

Snape’s dark eyes narrowed, his lip curling slightly at the corner as he heard her answer.

”I warn you, Hermione,” he said to her, “I am no Ronald Weasley. You’ve consented to be mine for now . . . and mine you will be. As of right now, you belong to me . . . every part of you belongs to me to do with what I please in any way I please. Do you understand this? There will be no controlling me or curtailing me. No ‘stop this’ or ‘don’t do that.’ By accepting me, you accept everything about me, witch. Every twist . . . every kink. But I will not leave you wanting, I promise you that. Now, are you absolutely sure that you are willing to engage me? I will not ask you again.”

Hermione bit her lip. He expected her to surrender to him totally without any limitations. She blinked at him. Would he want to shag her anally? Gods, he was so big . . . she didn’t think she could handle that. Ron did it sometimes, but it was always a bit of an ordeal with him. It would be murder with the professor.

”I . . . I don’t like some things,” Hermione said to him rather timidly, her eyes helplessly flicking to his loins rather quickly and she colored.

Snape arched an eyebrow at her.

”What kind of ‘things?’” the wizard purred at her.

”I don’t like anal sex. It hurts when Ron does it . . . I don’t think . . .” she began.

Snape’s eyes softened a bit.

”Anal sex isn’t something that can be jumped into, particularly with a wizard of my . . . caliber,” he said softly. “It requires a number of preparations and can take weeks to fully consummate. And I don’t have weeks with you do I? Only . . . this one moment. Don’t worry. I have no intentions on taking you in such a manner, Hermione. I am passionate, but not completely brutal. The idea of giving you pain does not arouse me. Giving you pleasure and a new experience does, however.”

Hermione let out a small sigh of relief. Snape blinked down at her.

”Shall we undress?” he asked her, his pale hands going to his robes.

Hermione’s eyes widened.

“Here? You want to do it here in the lab?” she asked him incredulously.

Snape looked around the lab then back at Hermione.

”I always have my encounters here. It gives me something to reminisce about during long brewings,” the wizard said, starting on his robes.

”What about a bed?” Hermione asked him.

Snape stopped unfastening his robes.

”I’ve never taken any witch to my bed,” he said, his eyes a bit hard.

“Oh,” Hermione said, looking very disappointed.

Snape eyed her.

”I suppose you would rather engage me in my private chambers, rather than my lab,” he said to her.

Hermione colored slightly. Yes, a bed would be better. Doing it in the lab meant she’d always be thinking about it afterwards. Whenever she entered to brew she’d think about being shagged by the wizard. She cleared her throat a little, then replied.

”Yes. Because . . . because I have to work here too, and I think it might be distracting to remember being with you in here,” she said softly. “It would be a constant reminder, and this is supposed to only be for one night.”

”Yes, that is what it is supposed to be,” the wizard repeated, looking thoughtful.

Suddenly, he caught Hermione’s hand.

“Very well. You shall be the first to enter my bedchambers. You are more than worthy of such treatment. Besides, I have a dresser. It can double as a desk in a pinch,” he said to her his eyes hot.

Snape knew that Hermione had to have fantasized about being bent over his desk. It was what she had witnessed after all. He planned to recreate the act for her.

”Come with me,” he hissed, pulling Hermione along behind him roughly as they exited the lab.

If she wanted to bounce off his mattress and Slytherin green satin sheets, he’d oblige her.

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Hermione allowed Snape to lead her through the lab, through his office and watched as he opened the wall to his private rooms. She had been in there once or twice, though normally they met in his office or the lab. His grip on her hands was firm, but not tight. She could feel his warmth and strength as he held on to her rather possessively, as if she might run away if he released her.

Snape pulled her into his study, past all the black and brown books that ran floor to ceiling on almost every bit of wall and into his bedroom.

The first thing Hermione noticed was the thick, lush, rich green shag carpet beneath her feet. Then the beautiful, intricately carved four-poster bed, wardrobe, dresser and chairs, images of coiled serpents gracing every piece, slithering up the posts of the bed, around the borders of the dresser and mirror, making up the arms of the two upholstered chairs.

Thick candles, rather than torches rested in the sconces, emitting a warm, comfortable glow, and . . . a spicy scent. Possibly sandalwood. The bed was covered in rich, green satin sheets with matching pillowcases covering pillows that seemed to be goose down.

On the stone walls hung paintings of landscapes. All dark and mysterious, moonlight streaming over fields and lakes. The clouds moved, making the moonlight wax and wane.

Hermione looked at Snape, surprised at the opulence.

”Not everything has to be sparse and bare,” the wizard purred. “This is where I repose. Of course I want it to be comfortable.”

He released her hand.

”Now, undress,” he hissed, his pale hands once again going to the fasteners of his robes.

Hermione watched him for a moment, then slowly complied.

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A/N: Short I know, but I’m moving forward. Ah, a Snape with comforts. That’s the ticket. Lol. Thanks for reading.

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