Hermione stood in the hallway of her home, at a standoff with her husband. He was standing across from her, staunchly refusing to move, his arms stubbornly folded across his chest.
"Severus, do you truly want me to cancel my appointment?" Hermione asked, trying to muster up as much patience as possible, feeling as if she was dealing with a petulant five year old that had just been denied sweets.
"Yes," he stiffly replied, his obsidian eyes boring into hers, refusing to back down.
"But Ginny and I made these plans a month ago!" she wailed, peeved that he was refusing to see reason.
"That moot point bears no weight in how I feel," Severus softly replied.
Hermione gave a sigh that could most likely be heard in China, fighting the urge to toss her wand at her spouse.
The two had been married for little over two years, and had relatively few arguments. Even when Hermione was adamant about being right about something, she'd refuse to concede, even if Severus had tangibly proved her wrong. He'd merely shoot her a sardonic glance, leaving her to stew until she cooled off. After which the two would have a frantic round of make-up sex, leaving both of them clutching to one another and gasping for air.
It was no surprise that Severus had a possessive streak, something that made Hermione laugh instead of putting her off. When he'd first began courting her, Ronald Weasley had made more than one sarcastic remark about the two. One day he'd gone too far, and Hermione had stopped Severus' wand arm just in time, before he had been able to transfigure the smirking redhead into some creature or worse.
Ginny had merely stood off to the side, laughing at the fact that her brother was bold enough to challenge the notoriously dark, broody wizard. Ron had been forever griping about his sister and Hermione with their 'two Slytherins' as he always referred to Draco and Severus, refusing to let go of the grudge he'd had against the two since Hogwarts.
It hadn't mattered that they were all grown and paired off; Ron never failed to make some sort of disparaging remark. Hermione attempted to laugh, giving the brush off to his slick words, whilst carefully warning him to tread carefully where she and Severus were concerned. Of course, he'd still remained hot-headed as ever, again making a rude comment about Severus and the state of his lank hair.
He hadn't known that Severus had come back into the house after stepping out to talk to Arthur, and was right behind him, catching the tail end of his repartee. Once Ron recovered from jumping in fright at finding the dour wizard standing right behind him, his face turned a bright red, clashing terribly with his hair.
Everyone else in the room had laughed uproariously, all except Severus whose lip curled up into one of his customary sneers.
Even then, Severus had never shown one whit of jealousy, as Hermione had assured him that she'd burn up all of her books, and curse off her own arm before attempting to date Ron again. She'd learned from her mistakes, finding that they were better off as friends- even attempting that proving to be utterly trying- and had no wish to relive the experience.
It was a few years after the war had ended that Hermione and Severus came about. With her newfound celebrity status, Hermione uncomfortably took notice of the fact that she yielded more attention than ever in her life. People that never bothered to speak to her all of a sudden found her interesting, thinking nothing of intruding on her privacy, no matter where she was.
Ron, Harry and Hermione were purported the 'Golden Trio', people always forgetting about the many others that also fought and lost their lives in the war. While Ron and Harry seemed to enjoy their notoriety, Hermione merely wanted to get around day to day without someone stopping her on the street. Hell, even trying to have tea and a muffin, alone with a book to keep her engaged had proved difficult.
She was in a little shop, mid-chew of her pastry and eagerly turning the pages of her latest purchase from Flourish and Blotts, when a wizard that strongly reminded her of Professor Lockhart had sauntered over to her table, sitting down without being asked, proceeding to fire questions away at a rapid pace.
He'd begun gesturing wildly to emphasize his words, nearly looking as if he was trying to chat her up, when his hastily moving hand had flown into her teacup, sending the hot amber colored liquid flying all over her robes and book.
Jumping up, she'd snapped at the wizard while using her wand to rid herself of the spilled tea. Pointedly ignoring the bumbling wizard that had begun to apologise profusely, Hermione had begun gathering up her things when she turned around, walking right into none other than Severus Snape.
Hermione had been flummoxed, as the man was rarely seen out in public. Just like her, he too relished his privacy. The Wizarding World had found out about his noble deeds, although some remained dubious. It hadn't mattered to him in the least bit. Severus had stepped down from his headmaster's post at Hogwarts, only venturing out to the village when he needed to replenish things for his home.
Without so much as a word, he'd looked down at Hermione's harassed face, silently offering her his arm and leading her out of the tea shop and away from the intrusive wizard. Hermione was stunned to say the least, barely able to find her voice when he asked if she'd like him to see her home.
Uttering a low 'yes', she told Severus her address and clung onto his arm as they Apparated out of Diagon Alley, landing in front of her little house. She'd quietly murmured a few words of thanks, claiming that she'd missed lunch, and that he would be more than welcome to join her.
She was surprised when he accepted her offer, following into the house behind Hermione and taking an offered seat on her sofa. The two seemed a bit awkward around one another, sitting in relative silence while slowly eating their respective meals.
Only when Severus mentioned the wizard that had rudely barged in on her at the tea shop, did Hermione begin prattling on about how she could never go out in peace, even when she went to the ladies', and that she just wanted to be left alone.
She felt a bit embarrassed for the outburst, her face flushing when she looked across at the raven-haired wizard to find him smirking, looking most amused. Hermione broke out into a smile, and the rest of their meal had gone smoothly. Afterwards the two retired back to her living room, where they sat chatting well into the evening.
Hermione was shocked to find that she'd been loath to part with Severus' company, and shyly invited him to come back round for tea or supper whenever he was available. She was surprised at how much she'd enjoyed his company, finding that he was marginally less surly compared to his days as a professor.
Severus had also enjoyed the affable witch's company, indeed finding his way back to Hermione's house. For two people that claimed to prefer a quiet life, it seemed as if their well of words was never going to run dry. Night after night they stayed up talking, hardly ever running out of topics to mull and debate over. Once, they'd chatted so long into the far hours of the night, that they both fell asleep on Hermione's little sofa.
It was around three in the morning when Severus had jolted awake, griping inwardly when he felt the crick in his neck that came from sleeping anywhere other than a bed. Hermione was curled into his side, her face embedded into his shoulder when he'd gently roused her awake, claiming that his forty-two year old joints needed something softer to rest on, and that he should be going home.
Hermione'd sat up, rubbing the sleep from her brown eyes, letting out a wide yawn before telling Severus that they could go to her bedroom. She'd been too knackered and incoherent to realize that her words possibly sounded like a double entendre. In all actuality, she'd been perfectly content lying against Severus, and felt a tad bereft at the thought of him leaving.
Severus was also averse to depart from Hermione's company, and with a bit more convincing on her part, allowed himself to be prodded up the staircase and in the direction of her bedroom.
Still foggily moving about, Hermione divested herself of her dress and tights, slipping on a silly looking nightshirt that fell down to her knees. She hadn't seemed concerned with the fact that Severus was standing on the other side of her bed, as he unbuttoned his own shirt and trousers, removing both items and neatly draping them on her armchair.
Settling down into the bed, Hermione turned down the counterpane on the opposite side, sleepily gesturing for Severus to slip in next to her. Once he was beneath the bedclothes, Hermione rested her head on his chest, her new favorite place, and resumed sleep without a hitch.
Six months had passed before the two finally admitted their feelings for one another. Of course, it was obvious to everyone else around them. After much cajoling, she'd dragged him to the Burrow for dinner one evening. Fred and George had taken one look at the two and immediately began their bantering. Another day when Hermione had gone on her own, she was offered one of their joke versions of a mild and short-lasting Veritaserum, hinting that she could have a free bottle if she needed help in moving things along with her wizard.
Hermione tartly replied that she didn't need their help. Instead, later that evening she'd Apparated to Spinner's End, purposefully striding in and over to Severus when he opened the door for, poking him in the chest with her index finger in an accusing fashion.
Traveling cloak still about her shoulders, Hermione had launched into a tirade, going on about Severus mucking around with her heart and mind, and that either he do something about her falling for him else she'd leave him alone, if that was what he preferred.
Severus had been thoroughly astounded, yet the mirth came through on his face when he looked at the incensed little witch standing before him. It was true, he'd deeply cared for the her, despite their nearly twenty year age difference. However, when he bodily pulled her against him, gently cupped his warm and slightly calloused palms around Hermione's face, brushing his lips against her mouth and effectively putting an end to her verbal assault, she'd closed her eyes and all but melted into their first kiss.
It was another two months before they'd made love. Severus had been apprehensive, telling Hermione that it had been a while since he was with a woman. His mouth was in danger of falling open and hitting the floor when she replied that she'd never been with a woman either, or a man for that matter, snickering when she saw the startled expression on his face.
They'd engaged in slow but heated kissing, barely making it to Hermione's bedroom. The sex that followed had been awkward, yet still not displeasing. It hurt more than Hermione anticipated and she'd cried out, causing Severus to press his lips against her hairline, brushing away the tears on her cheeks with his thumbs.
When she was finally able to accommodate him without further discomfort, Severus had viciously erupted into her body, apologizing while a slight flush rose to his face. Hermione merely wrapped her arms his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, saying that she didn't mind.
Still pressed against her side, Severus had slid one hand down between Hermione's legs, his fingertips searching out for the bud at the apex of her cleft. His touch was different than her own, much gentler in fact, and Hermione had soon arched her back, biting down on her bottom lip at the pleasurable sensations sweeping over her body.
His nimble fingertips continued circling her clitoris until she thrashed against his hand, moaning fervently at the orgasm that had suddenly taken over. Severus was chagrined when Hermione pushed his hand away after a few minutes, pulling him back on top of her. He'd grown aroused and bore a second erection after hearing her come apart as a result of his caresses.
Severus groaned, pushing himself back into her tight and quivering body. Hermione's hands came around to his back, squeezing and clutching onto his flesh as she beckoned him to move faster. Murmuring unintelligibly, Hermione's little fingers dug deeper as her climaxed approached, her body convulsing about Severus.
Her first orgasm with him still inside of her had been the gateway that led to the following ones. Hermione reached her peak three more times, shrilly moaning out Severus' name while clutching onto whatever her fingers brushed against, until he was no longer able to hold out.
Once her breathing had become less hastened, Hermione broke into soft laughter. Severus arched an eyebrow, grunting as he heaved himself up on one elbow, asking her what was so funny.
After explaining how she found the fact amusing that the man whom used to make her cry when she was a child, had now shagged her senseless, Severus gave a crooked grin, planting a short kiss on Hermione's lips before laying back down with her.
Later that year the two were wed in a traditional hand-fasting ceremony. Once the ceremony was over, Hermione had been momentarily whisked away by Molly, leaving Severus alone with her parents, when she'd caught sight of Ron slinking over.
Warning him that she would not attempt to save him from the end of her husband's wand if he chose to show his arse, Hermione was chuffed to find that he merely came over to congratulate her. Despite his proper behavior, it hadn't stopped Severus from coming over to reclaim his wife, not forgoing shooting the redhead a scathing glance before turning in the opposite direction.
Severus and Hermione had a relatively enjoyable life together. Sometimes when she was off on her own, Hermione would happen across an old classmate, and they'd ask if she really married Snape, as they referred to him.
Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Hermione would reply that yes, she'd married Severus, and no, he didn't turn into a bat or keep her chained up in a dungeon at night, eager to impede any foolish queries that were sure to come.
Severus was the opposite of the many preconceived notions that others held him to. He wasn't a man to show a lot of emotion, nor was he completely thwarted at doing so. He was gentle when it came to Hermione, choosing to quietly display his affections towards his spouse. However, it was a total one-eighty when they were making love.
The man became completely uninhibited, both of which shocked yet immensely aroused Hermione. No space of their home had gone untouched. Severus had an insatiable appetite when it came to his wife, thinking nothing of arbitrarily plunging into her body, no matter what she'd been in the middle of. One Saturday morning she'd nearly shrieked when she felt those well-known and cherished fingers sliding the hem of her nightshirt up over her behind, pulling her back to meet his already bared erection.
Protesting that she needed to finish frying the eggs for their breakfast, Severus merely replied, 'sod the eggs,' before thrusting into her warm sheathe. Hermione still had the spatula in her hand, standing a few inches away from the hob. Severus knew she loved it when he bent her in half to take her from behind, and did so as often as possible.
She screamed and cried out as he steadily pumped into her body, causing a massive orgasm to tear through her. Her moans had just begun dissipating when the scent of charred eggs reached their noses, causing Hermione to give a yelp, shoving Severus away from her and yanking the pan away from the fire.
Severus had collapsed into a kitchen chair, his deep voice breaking out into uncharacteristic yet uncontrollable laughter after he'd seen the livid visage of his wife.
"I'm glad you think it's funny," Hermione told him, soon unable to keep a straight face herself, "because that was the last of the eggs. I suppose we'll be eating bacon sandwiches now."
Hermione told Severus she loved him at every opportunity, never failing to let him know how happy he made her. Which was why she was so cross with him at the moment. No matter what she said, she'd been unable through to her husband, whom was now in the throes of a complete snit.
"I still don't understand what the problem is," she countered, truly not understanding why he wanted her to change her plans.
"Forgive me for not being thrilled at the idea of some lecherous chap rubbing his grubby little paws over my wife's body," he snapped.
Hermione bit down hard on her lip, refusing to believe that Severus was this jealous.
"Severus, it's a health club; women go there all of the time and get massages. It's a perfectly common thing, I assure you."
Severus still refused to concede or unfold his arms, giving him the visage of how Mephistopheles might appear if he was throwing a temper tantrum, and Hermione finally released the frustrated cry that she'd been holding in. Once a month she and Ginny met up to go have manicures, pedicures, get a massage and have their hair done. Severus hadn't minded in the least bit, until Hermione had casually mentioned that the lady who was her regular masseuse had gone on leave.
Hermione was hesitant about using someone new, but her masseuse, Adelise, had reassured her that she'd personally trained the person that would be taking over for her. Hermione was shocked to find that it was a man, and an attractive one at that. It was only after he began cooing over Ginny's engagement ring and Hermione's wedding band, prompting a conversation about his boyfriend, that Hermione grew at ease.
His name was Bradley, and damned if his hands weren't better than her regular lady's. He'd managed to work out every knot of tension in her body, having to prod Hermione awake once he was done. Ginny demanded that Hermione share her masseuse, gladly waiting her turn for Bradley to finish up with her best friend.
Hermione had come home, giggling to Severus about Ginny getting jealous over her new masseuse, yet frowned slightly when she felt him grow rigid against her. It took her a few minutes to realize that Severus was discomfited with the idea of a man touching her, and she suggested that he use Legilimency on her to prove that Bradley maintained professionalism at all times, never even viewing her breasts or intimate parts, as they'd been concealed by a well placed sheet.
Even after snappishly telling Severus that the man was gay, he refused to be placated, yet remained silent. The week had gone on, and soon it was time for Hermione and Ginny's regular outing.
Hermione was clueless as to why Severus had behaved petulantly the night before, until she realized what the next day held. She was on her way out of the door to meet Ginny, when she saw the querulous look on Severus' face. After a bit of prodding, she realized that he was still on about Bradley.
"What do you want me to do, Severus?" she spat out, feeling her patience run thin. "Adelise is out for the next four months, and I don't particularly care for the other ladies that work there."
"Homosexual or not, I still don't want another man touching you," he groused. "I'll be the only man that will have the opportunity of laying a hand on your body."
"So does that mean you'll give me a fully body massage?" Hermione shot back.
Severus glowered down at his little witch for a minute before curtly nodding his head. Hermione's mouth fell open, one eyebrow arching up curiously.
"Do you know how to give a massage?" she asked, unable to keep the doubtfulness out of her voice.
"Yes! How difficult can it be?" Severus snapped peevishly. "I'll be ready once you return home."
Hermione bit her lip to keep from laughing at the dark look on his face. Leaning up to kiss him, which he grudgingly returned, she Apparated out of their home and to the promised meeting spot with Ginny.
Ginny and Hermione had finished with getting their nails and hair done, and were now sitting in a cafe, having a gab over wine and cake. The redheaded witch had laughed uproariously, nearly knocking over her wine glass when Hermione kept going on about Severus being jealous of their masseuse.
"But he's gay!" she shrilled. "I mean, he was drooling over the photograph of Draco and I. If he didn't have a beau, I really think he'd have stolen my picture, ripped my face off of it and tape it to his mirror."
They were in the nail salon when Hermione had first mentioned her and Severus' falling out. She'd nearly fallen out of her chair at Ginny's response, earning a sharp glance from the woman doing her pedicure.
Previously Ginny had asked why she preferred getting her hands and feet done the Muggle way, until Hermione brought her to a Muggle city. After thirty minutes of the hands-on pampering, Ginny conceded that it was indeed lovely, and vowed to come along with Hermione at every given opportunity.
Getting their nails done had merely been a prelude. They'd gone to a salon aftewards, where a gaggle of the stylists raved over Ginny's hair colour, asking where she'd had it done. When she replied that it was natural, they all got into a strop, arguing over whose chair she would sit in.
Hermione found the entire event amusing, shaking her head as her own stylist led her off. She'd been hard put to find someone that wouldn't attempt to straighten out her curls, as she liked her hair just fine. The woman that did her hair was named Fifi, whom wore her own mop in a platinum blonde and purple streaked asymmetrical updo.
She'd been daunted at her first sight of the woman. Once Fifi had washed, shampooed and styled her hair, Hermione was in love with the way her curls had been shaped and moulded to softly cascade over her shoulders and down her back. Ginny's red tresses were also styled impeccably, and she kept tossing her head, flicking around her strands as they walked.
"So does this mean I'll have Bradley to myself?" Ginny asked hopefully, lifting her wine glass and taking a generous sip of the sweet white.
"I suppose so," Hermione retorted, idly playing with her fork. "But Severus said he would make up for the loss and give me a massage himself, so we'll see how this goes."
Ginny gave a snort, her expression soon turning thoughtful. "Well, you did say that he's stronger than he looks. He just might do a corking job, don't you think?"
"We shall see once I return home," she replied. "Say, Draco isn't jealous of Bradley?"
"Draco? Goodness no," Ginny said. "In fact; he encourages me to keep up with my appointments. He says I'm less snippy whenever I come back from getting a massage."
Hermione broke out into laughter, her hand curling around the stem of her wine glass. "Ginny! Does that mean you're abusing your fiancé? That is most unbecoming," she chided.
Ginny quirked an eyebrow, shrugging her petite shoulders. "Only when he deserves it. You know that Malfoy arrogance needs to be checked at times; quickly, firmly and in a hurry."
"You horrid little witch," Hermione laughed, draining her wine glass and looking around for their waiter. " I think I'll have another before heading back home."
"Don't worry; I'll tell Bradley that you said 'hello'," Ginny cheekily reassured.
Hermione shook her head, looking up at the waiter that suddenly appeared at the side of their table.
When Hermione returned home later that evening, she still felt a warm glow from the two glasses of wine. Softly calling 'hello' after shutting the door behind her, she removed her jacket, using her wand to transfigure it back into her traveling cloak. Whenever she ventured into a Muggle area, she'd change her witch's garments into something less conspicuous.
The house was dimly lit, and there was no sign of Severus. Hermione had been on her way upstairs when she heard her name, turning around to see him before the landing.
"Hello, love," she greeted, stepping down to wind her arms around his neck.
"Madam Snape," he drawled, planting a soft kiss on her lips. "Did you enjoy your outing with Ginevra?"
"Yes," Hermione replied, letting her body languidly fall into her husband's. Closing her eyes, she buried her head into Severus' shoulder when he ran a finger through her soft curls. Ever since she began having her hair professionally done, he never offered an opinion on it. Hermione thought he didn't like Fifi's work, that first day she'd returned from the salon. It was an hour later that she realized Severus had been unable to keep his hands or nose out of her curls, absentmindedly grazing his fingers over her hair whenever she passed.
Severus' fingers paused at the nape of Hermione's neck, before gently tilting her head up. "Tell the truth; how much did you have to drink?"
Hermione smiled ruefully, pondering back to her time at the restaurant. "Two... no, two and a half glasses of wine. Ginny and I split the last one."
"It's a wonder you didn't splinch yourself on the way home," he chastised, although his voice lacked bite. "I believe I owe you a massage."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up; she'd nearly forgotten about that. "Oh yes...shall I get my robe?"
Severus remained quiet for a second. "Is that what you usually do?"
Hermione slowly nodded her head. "We strip down to our knickers, and the spa supplies us with a robe while we wait for the masseuse."
"Very well. I'll be in the sitting room when you're ready."
Nodding again, Hermione held onto the banister, tipsily ambling her way up the steps. Once she'd gotten to their bedroom, she kicked her shoes and socks off, musing over her soon to be had massage. Her trousers, blouse and bra followed suit, and Hermione walked into the bathroom to retrieve her bathrobe.
Looking at the prosaic pile of white fluff, she decided that it was perfectly acceptable to eschew the casual material in favor of something more sporting, and choose a short, black satin robe that paired with a coordinating nightgown.
Forgoing anything on her feet, Hermione softly padded back down the steps, walking into the dimly lit sitting room where Severus was waiting for her. Still wearing her hazy wine goggles, Hermione found that he'd set up what looked like a pallet with sheets in front of the steadily burning hearth, a small dish of oil next to two pillows.
"Is your intent to dither about in the doorway?" Severus drawled, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly when he saw the agog expression on Hermione's face.
"Oh shush," she replied, shuffling into the room. He was perched on the sofa, legs crossed, clad in pair of grey casual trousers and a white button down, his ebony hair tied back away from his face. With a reproachful look at her handsome husband, Hermione slithered down onto the pallet, resting to her knees before slipping off the robe. Laying flat on her back, Hermione looked to the side and found Severus rolling his sleeves up over his forearms.
"Aren't you going to cover me with the sheet?" she cheekily asked, unable to resist taking a jab at her dark wizard.
"Insufferable little witch," he replied, his dark eyes focused on the bowl of oil above Hermione's head. "Remember that I'm the one in charge here, so shut your mouth and close your eyes."
Hermione bit back a fit of laughter, rolling her eyes before letting them slide closed. It was habitual for her and Severus to banter like so, much to the shock of others when they'd overheard. Their lovers' spats were always in jest, never in malice, even if an outsider was unable to decipher their private joke.
Feeling Severus' hands come to her head, Hermione lifted it slightly and allowed him to slip one of the pillows beneath. Her knees received the same treatment, and soon he'd straddled her body, the sounds of his large hands rubbing together close to her head.
"It's nearly a shame to ruin your hair after you've had it done so nicely," he mused, looking down at Hermione's carefully arranged curls.
"I don't mind," Hermione easily replied, sighing when his fingertips insinuated themselves against her scalp, rubbing in the fragrant and slightly heated oil. She'd been inwardly ashamed earlier, believing that Severus would do a mediocre job, leaving her yearning to go back to the spa.
Merlin help her, to say she had been wrong was an understatement; if felt as if she was lingering in the den of iniquity, and Severus was its doyen.
Hermione should have known better than to think that her husband would do anything in a middling manner, especially when it came to one-upmanship concerning her. His strong fingertips were doing wonderful things to her scalp, and soon her jaw fell slack, and she had to concentrate on not drooling.
Severus was using more oil than Hermione was accustomed to, but when his hands came down her throat, his fingers rubbing each side before continuing onto her breasts and sternum, she was unable to even mentally gripe.
"I bet this is one is one place that is sorely overlooked," he softly commented, his hands anointing lascivious circles into her breasts, both palms titillating the now erect nipples.
"That's because they can't touch my breasts, Severus," Hermione all but moaned, unable to keep her back from arching slightly.
Her devilish husband had the nerve to chuckle throatily, sliding his hands to her torso. Feeling her body soon growing weighted, Hermione was in full self-acknowledgment that a massage from Severus far surpassed any one that she could have paid for.
Hermione softly swooned when Severus' slightly calloused fingers roved over her arms in long strokes. Her muddled mind wanted to ask how the hell did he know that there was a spot in her palm that felt delicious when pressed upon, but was soon rendered incapable of thought when he moved down to her legs.
By the time he'd finished with her feet, Hermione felt Severus' hands urging her to turn over onto her stomach. Her repose was so great that she had to muster up just enough energy to shift her weight, doing so with a breathless sigh.
Two warm and oil slickened adroit hands descended upon her calves, digging and gently probing until the muscles were pliant beneath his fingertips. Hermione was unable to keep from moaning when the kneading caresses delved up to her thighs, Severus' thumbs grazing the swells of her behind that slightly peeked out from the bottom of her knickers.
Severus knew that he'd behaved worse than a spoilt child earlier that day. But now that he was curled over his wife's scantily clad and glistening body, smoothing the fragrant oil into her delicate curves, he felt completely exonerated from their little tiff.
Hermione was breathing deeply and steadily, her face buried into the pillow. Severus knew for fact that there was a small, wet spot on the fabric beneath her lips, yet inwardly chuckled knowing that she would deny it.
There was a small amount of moisture beneath Hermione's face, yet between the warmth of the fire across from her, the imbibed wine, and Severus' skillful hands sweeping over her body, she was completely unconcerned.
Severus moved up next to Hermione's head, hefting her now ruffled curls into a loose twist, moving it over and out of his way. Letting out a low groan of satisfaction at the long, firm strokes being directed into the dip in her back, Hermione was about to tell Severus that he'd ruined it for every masseuse she'd encountered, and that no one else but him would do from now on.
"Your hands should come with a warning," Hermione drowsily murmured once he was done, feeling his lips pressing a kiss to the back of her exposed neck. "Thank you; I feel as if I'm lying on a cloud."
"You are quite welcome," he replied, his right hand lightly caressing her back. "But that was just a prelude."
Hermione lazily cracked open one eye, the sight of the now low burning fireplace coming into view. She felt mildly curious when Severus' hands came to her waist, his fingers hooking beneath the elastic of her knickers, sliding them down and off her body.
"As lovely as you look lying here like this, I need you to turn back over," Severus continued.
Brimming over with lassitude, Hermione didn't particularly want to move, but Severus had made his request in such a coaxing manner that she was unable to refuse him. Shifting over onto her back, Hermione closed her eyes and let her head fall to the side.
She felt Severus bending her legs at the knee, allowing her thighs to fall splayed to either side of her body. Shortly after more oil was placed on her abdomen and inner thighs.
"Severus, why does that oil smell different than the other one?" Hermione asked, catching the sweet, muskier scent.
"Didn't I tell you to be a good little witch and remain silent?" he replied, running both hands up the soft flesh of her inner thighs.
"All right," Hermione conceded, too relaxed to argue. Sighing when his hands met just at the apex of her sex, she was almost disappointed when they move to drift up to her stomach.
Severus took his time, keeping Hermione's skin liberally oiled, his fingers gently probing into her almost clean mons, save for the small patch of hair atop its cleft. He leisurely traced about the area, in spite of Hermione's hips beginning to writhe against him. When he finally made his way to her outer puffy lips, he still made sure to avoid direct contact with her clit, even though it was well coated with his personal blend of oil.
"Severus, what the devil have you put on me?" Hermione demanded, realizing that her nether parts were beginning to feel marginally hotter, her once lull voice now tinged with lust.
"Telling you is of no consequence," Severus replied. Looking up at his wife, Severus saw that her face was slowly becoming flushed, her breathing a bit faster.
He was in fact, using a different oil than when he'd initially began. This once held aphrodisiac properties, along with an herb to stimulate more delicate areas of the body.
Letting two, slender fingers slide down to Hermione's moist opening, he lightly trapped the bud of her clit between them, releasing it after a second. Hearing the supplicant witch inhale sharply, Severus moved one hand over her breasts, the other curving around the swells of her sex.
Massaging both areas simultaneously, Severus moved the other hand up from between Hermione's legs, eliciting a low cry of frustration from her. Rubbing circles into her breasts that she was so fond of, Severus pinched and plucked at both nipples until they pebbled beneath his fingertips.
Hermione's nipples were one of her biggest erogenous zones. They'd found that if she was aroused enough, Severus could lick and suck at them without touching her cunt, and it was enough to make her come. Now he'd dribbled his oil onto them, making Hermione tremble with each touch.
Focusing his attention back on the soft spot between her legs, Severus used both hands to lightly brush over the area, the heel of his palm briefly slipping over her tingling clit, that had now begun to peek from beneath its hood.
Arching her body with each stroke, Hermione furiously tried to garner friction to where she needed it most. Severus, of course, was privy to her body's actions, and settled for massaging her mons, his fingers a hairsbreadth away from the increasingly aching nub.
Just when Hermione began to seriously consider hexing her life partner and wand mate, Severus made her turn back over, placing the pillow beneath her stomach and positioning her body comfortably on both knees.
He dripped more oil onto her buttocks, making sure a generous amount slid between both cheeks. Curving his hands over the ample flesh, Severus kneaded and massaged the rosy orbs until Hermione was slightly thrusting back against him.
With every caress, his thumbs grazed against her quivering entrance, as well as the tightly puckered hole above it. Hermione continued keening softly, her fingers digging into the pillow beneath her head.
Severus' hands continued slowly teasing and rotating Hermione's buttocks, noting the slippery moisture that was beginning to collect at her entrance. Whenever his fingers delved closer to her clit, the tiny, pink hole of her vagina would squeeze shut, only releasing once he'd moved away.
Hermione's body continued thrashing about, her movements becoming more erratic the longer Severus denied her the release she was fervently seeking. He finally allowed his fingers to stray down to her engorged, bright red clit, gently pinching the prepuce between his pointer and thumb, tugging it in a back and forth motion.
A loud groan was unearthed from the trembling with, her back arching sharply as she thrust herself against the probing fingers, loudly begging Severus to keep going. Screaming out as if she was being tortured when he stopped, Severus eased two fingers inside of Hermione's now drenched and pulsating canal, curving the digits to press down on the spot inside of her body that he was well acquainted with.
His thumb found her clit again, and Hermione nearly cried with relief. Her moans were growing louder and more unintelligible as she approached climax, her hips bucking furtively against Severus' hand.
"Yes, love, yes!" she groaned, unable to keep her body from thrashing about, her hands in danger of tearing the pillow into shreds. Just when she thought her pleasure was unable to be taken higher, a single digit began tracing around her well lubricated rosebud, before easily slipping inside.
Hermione began praying to every deity known to her that Severus would finally let her come instead of teasing her. It was a possibility that he'd been using Legilimency on her, although if that was the case, Hermione was too preoccupied to notice.
Her breathing hitched as her body began trembling, a shrill cry erupting from the center of her chest as her cunt and arse convulsed around Severus' sweetly delving fingers. Clawing her nails against the pillow, all the while screaming and cursing for him to not stop, Hermione felt as if she'd been turned inside out, when she was suddenly thrown into a second orgasm, this time her juices actually erupting from her body and landing on her husband's forearms.
Hermione's entire body was still shaking, her thighs moreso as they'd taken the brunt of her weighted, tense limbs, when she felt Severus come up on his knees behind her.
She didn't know when he'd gotten undressed, or if he'd even completely removed his trousers. All she was able to focus on with his thick erection parting her folds pressing into her convulsing passage, the head of his cock lodged firmly against her cervix.
Both of his hands were on her waist, pulling her back onto his cock as he voraciously pounded into her body. Loudly going over two more times, Hermione fell slack onto the pallet beneath her. She had her face pressed firmly against the pillow, although it did little to muffle the loud gasps that were still pouring from her mouth.
Her cunt was completely soaked, and still squeezing around Severus so tightly that she'd unerringly expelled him from her body. He attempted to press himself back inside when the head of his cock brushed against her arse.
They still hadn't completely engaged in anal sex, but Hermione was so turned on at the moment that she would have done anything he asked.
Becoming encouraged when Hermione continued wriggling her hips back onto him, Severus positioned the engorged mushroom shaped tip against her anus, waiting for her to relax before pressing forward. His shaft had made it in all of a few inches before Hermione's head snapped up, her lungs deeply drawing in air. Severus didn't want to hurt her, and waited a few minutes before proceeding.
The oil was allowing him an easier entry, yet her unused muscles still prohibited him from fully pressing through. Hermione's breathing was shallow, yet she eventually relaxed enough to let Severus continue. He set up a slow, thrusting rhythm, allowing Hermione to get accustomed to the fullness of her unused orifice.
Little high pitched mewls of pleasure eventually escaped from Hermione's lips, her head dropping back down onto the pillow. Her body was still slightly tense beneath Severus' hands, but it had begun feeling good enough that another orgasm was soon approaching.
"Oh god, Severus!" she moaned, his thrusts yielding a slight tugging sensation on her clit, sending a ball of fire throughout her loins. With a loud scream, another orgasm slammed into her, leaving her shuddering and breathless.
She'd barely come down from the intense climax when Severus withdrew from her body, pushing her down to lay on her side. He'd all but ripped the white button down shirt off his torso, frantically moving into place behind his wife.
Hermione's back was against Severus' chest, and she let her head fall against his shoulder. Once he was firmly planted back inside of her tight arse, his sinewy arms encircled her waist, one hand delving below, allowing his clever fingers to rub small circles around her clitoris, keeping in tune with his well aimed thrusts.
Hermione was caught up in the throes of screaming, becoming enthralled with the intense sensations washing over her, shifting slightly to hold up her leg with one arm for better access. She cried and cursed as Severus steadily continued buggering her arse, his nimble, slender digits either deliciously milling around over her sensitive, swollen clit, or moving down to press up inside of her soaking wet cunt.
Alternating between Severus' name and a litany of 'oh fuck!' and 'yes!', Hermione's body shuddered violently as she came one last time, her arse clamping down on his cock, and her cunt liberally drenching his hand with her juices.
She'd been screaming so loudly that she never registered her husband's deep cries of masculine satisfaction, his pelvis thrashing against her behind as he erupted furiously into her body.
His hand was still between her legs when they collapsed onto the pallet, both of their bodies partially draped over the sweat and oil-soaked sheets.
"You," Hermione began once her racing heart had finally slowed down, "are dangerous."
Severus gave a weak chuckle, pulling his softened cock out from Hermione with a grimace. "Funny how I never heard you complain once," he replied huskily.
"As if I'm daft enough to do that," she yawned, seriously contemplating grabbing some kip right on the floor of their sitting room.
"The devil if I feel like moving, but I refuse to remain on this floor," Severus replied soon as she'd finished the unspoken thought.
"But I can't move, love," Hermione groaned, too limp to even lift a finger. "Bloody hell, you've worked me over. I don't think I've ever come so hard."
"All right," Severus conceded. "Five minutes, and then we're going to the bedroom."
"Sounds fair enough to me," she replied with another yawn, snuggling back against Severus and falling asleep.