Chapter 7 The Finale

Snape had always enjoyed the American Western matinees he'd seen as a child. Until this point however, he had only used "giddyup" when playing by himself at Spinner's end in his early youth, riding an old broom bristles first, and trotting up and down the barren, dirty streets.

Well, he no longer straddled broomsticks unless he was flying, but apparently, he still liked to ride.

Hermione howled as the Potions master proceeded to pummel her body, his pale face in a snarl as he drove into her body at a furious pace, his perspiration splashing on her like rain as he squelched through her dripping sleeve. One foot propped on the dresser, he was balls deep now, her body adjusting to his size like he knew it would. The wizard leaned back, keeping his tight grip on her hair, pulling her head back, his black eyes locked on her reddened face in the mirror, watching her as she shrieked with pleasure.

Yes, Hermione loved the way he fucked.

"Potions master cock is delicious, isn't it, Hermione?" he breathed, ramming his thick cock deep inside Hermione and holding it there, his loins resting against her soft red ass. He leaned a bit lower, his mouth close to her ear, the witch quaking as if experiencing a personal earthquake. "My meat is very filling isn't it? Especially for your particular hunger."

Hermione let out a tortured moan.

"Answer me!" Snape hissed, driving into her again. "My meat is filling, isn't it? Isn't it?"

"YES!" Hermione cried.

"I know it is witch. Here's more for you," he hissed, resuming his assault of her young, luscious body. Gods, this was so good . . . much more enjoyable than fucking prostitutes, simply because Hermione was who she was, a brilliant woman, normally one of strict moral values and once he had accessed by seduction alone.

She was quite the coup.

But that brilliant mind was all but shut down, and he now knew the woman behind that very appealing mind, knew her intimately. And he was going to enjoy her as much as possible. He pulled out of Hermione and roughly pulled her into his arms, striding across the room to his bed and throwing her into it, climbing in behind her and pushing her on her side, bending her knees, pressing her thighs together and kneeling behind her, beating her pink cheeks with his cock for several moments before pushing his member into her tight slit, one pale hand resting on her buttock, pushing it down so the grip of her pussy was even tighter as he began stroking her long and deep, whirling his loins and changing his angles as Hermione purred with pleasure, her eyes wet and glassy as she looked back at him, his hair plastered to his head as his thin, pale body moved rhythmically.

"Mmmm, such a tight little pussy, Hermione. It feels exquisite," he said to her silkily, his voice a caress that made her shudder, the softness a counterpoint to the delicious hardness piercing her over and over again. Damn, he was so good. How would she ever deal with Ron's lovemaking after this stallion of a wizard? Snape grasped her breast roughly and hit her with a hard, deep thrust, making her cry out before he returned to his easy pace.

"You liked that, Hermione. Underneath all that brain is the soul of one very wanton woman," he said softly, his nostrils flared as he looked down at her face. Her expression was one of bliss, and he whirled his pelvis so her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened, then went half-lidded. Snape folded over her, his face very close to hers as he continued fucking her slowly, her legs still twisted to the side.

"Do you think your Mr. Weasley will be able to follow this performance?" he breathed at her.

He stopped moving, his dark eyes gleaming as Hermione opened hers wider to look up at his sharp, hawkish features.

"He's going to have to," she replied softly, her voice tremulous as she felt the wizard, hard, pulsing and unmoving inside her, impaling her, making her feel as if her body wasn't her own at this moment, but totally his. Would this feeling ever leave her?

Snape frowned at her answer.

"He won't be able to. No one will," the wizard suddenly snarled and angrily rose to his knees, grabbing one of Hermione's legs and dragging it aside, cocking her wide open, falling over her body, moving upward, straightening out his legs, then spreading them as wide as possible, forcing Hermione's legs wider as well, his thighs resting on her thighs. He rose up on his hands and balanced on one as he positioned his cock for re-entry, Hermione's pussy wide open and trapped beneath the fat, dripping head, her eyes wide as she looked up at him.

"I'm going to fuck myself into your psyche so deeply, Hermione Granger, that any time another man touches you, you're going to compare him to me . . . and find him lacking," the wizard hissed, plunging downward and filling Hermione to the hilt, the witch screaming and digging her nails into his back in reaction.

He wasn't supposed to be doing this. This was supposed to be a one-time act, to satisfy her curiosity about him. Why was he trying to make himself unforgettable? Why was he doing this to her?

Because Snape was a covetous wizard who decided on the spur of the moment, that he'd rather fuck Hermione regularly than order girls from Madam Tootsie's House of Good Times. Hermione was the first decent witch he'd ever stuck his cock in and a wizard could get used to that.

Fuck Ron Weasley if he couldn't keep his woman. All's fair in lust and war.

Snape arched at the pain, feeling his flesh peel under her nails as she helpless drew them over the small of his back. Four thin crimson lines decorated his back, the first stripes he'd ever received from the claws of a Gryffindor lioness.

He fell still.

"I'm physically marked by you now," he breathed down at Hermione, "but you will carry my mark inside you for the rest of your days, Hermione, undetected by anyone other than you, me and no doubt Ronald Weasley when he finds he can no longer do it for you."

Snape gripped Hermione's wrists and held them tightly to the bed as he drove down into her hungrily, gouging out a place in her body, mind and soul as if drilling for oil, his eyes locked to her face as she cried out under him, looking beautiful in her surrender, breasts bouncing, body writhing under and around him, an angel fallen to his devilish designs.

Severus Snape was a driven man as he possessed Hermione's body as if it belonged to him, scouring every inch of the witch greedily, forcing his will on her as much as his lust, cursing and praising her as he lost himself to her, falling away from his normal selfish search for his own pleasure and doing his best to make the witch under him lose herself as well.

He was doing one hell of a job of it too. Hermione had never felt so completely taken by anyone in her life, although Ron was the only man she could compare Snape too, and in comparison . . . Ron was little more than an ardent boy than a true lover. The dark wizard was not only rocking her world, but turning it upside down and inside out. His slick body slapping against hers until only whimpers of pleasure issued from her slack mouth.

"Yes . . . I've got you now, Hermione Granger," he hissed down at her, his black eyes triumphant. "Any time you hear the words 'fuck', 'shag' or even 'make love,' my face will be the first one you see in your mind's eye. You are ruined, witch."

Hermione suddenly let out a cry as her body folded and fell under the Potions master's possession, hit by the most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced, the wizard hissing and falling still as her insides clutched and pulled at him, choking his cock as if it were caught in a soft, wet vise, Snape actually quaking, biting his lip as he fought his own release.

It was a losing battle as his eyelids fluttered, the irises starting to roll up as he looked down at the orgasming witch. She was just too lovely not to let go in.

"Damn you, you sexy . . . maddening witch . . ." Snape groaned, driving into Hermione frantically as his balls drew up and he ejaculated with a deep bellow, bliss pulsing through him, shot after hot, pleasurable shot as he filled the wellspring of woman gasping and shuddering beneath him, dropping on her body heavily as he released his supply of thick, creamy sperm deep inside her.

After several minutes, he roused, lifting his head and looking down at Hermione, who stared at him with glazed eyes.

Snape blinked at her, then helplessly . . . broke his own rules about putting his mouth on witches, and soundly kissed her . . . and continued to kiss her far into the night.

Ron didn't take it well when Hermione broke it off with him, moved out of her flat and (supposedly) took up residence in the Potions master's spare room. Apprentices usually lived with their masters after all.

Madam Tootsie didn't take it well either, especially when Snape closed his account of two decades with her establishment, the Madam offering him a 3 for 1 deal once a month if he would just keep his account open.

As interesting as that might have been, Snape stoically stuck to his wand about it, particularly since one of the conditions of he and Hermione continuing to be lovers was the closing of his account at the brothel. Hermione didn't want to be sleeping with everyone in the wizarding world, and besides, he didn't need anyone other than her.

On occasion, Hermione would have Severus line his bedroom with wall to wall mirrors.

"Are you satisfied with the layout, witch?" he'd purr at her as he started to disrobe.

"Oh yes," Hermione would purr back, nude and waiting in his four-poster bed.

"I still like to watch."

A/N: And there you have it. I finally brought it to the quick end I'd been reaching for. I hope you enjoyed this little PWP/Happy Ending. Thanks for reading.