A/N: I do not in any way, shape, or form own Harry Potter or the characters/world therein, aside from awesome merchandise. I am merely playing with them. Nicely. For the most part.

Other than that, enjoy.


The man in question placed a finger at his place on the page and looked up over the top of his reading glasses, eyebrow raised in query. "Yes, Hermione?"

His wife flushed. "I- I need..."

"Ah." He swiftly marked his place and set the book down next to his chair, glasses atop the cover. "Come."

Leading the way into the bedroom, he pondered what to do tonight. Hermione was his equal. They shared many tastes, had similar enjoyments in the bedroom... and while he did not truly care for harder games, this was one his wife needed.

What his wife needed, he provided, especially since it ended with him pleased as well.

Since the war, since their coming together, Hermione needed this. She needed a night, a moment, where she did not want to be in control. Where he would care for her, tell her what needed to be done. Oh, there were limits to the game. He would never hurt her (she did not want that, either), and he did not want a submissive wife.

But he'd be lying if the thrill of having her yield to his commands and power didn't make him nearly lightheaded with lust.

Hermione twisted her fingers nervously. She knew Severus loved her, loved all they did together, and knew what she needed, but even after years of marriage, she worried he would suddenly grow tired of this. When she brought these concerns to him, he soothed her, cosseted her in his arms, and she felt better.

Severus knew she was nervous, and wanted to reassure her - oh, no, he wouldn't murmur words of love and devotion. It was a rare moment when he did so.

But this he could provide. She held him in the night when the terrors gripped him, never shared his secrets – not even to her friends, and stroked his hair and told him he was loved.

He stopped in the bedroom with a swirl of robes, watching her with his head tilted, looking down nose. Calm, collected (despite the wonderful pulse in his trousers), he raised an imperious eyebrow. "Strip, Hermione, and come kneel before me."

Trembling fingers raised themselves to the hem of her jumper as he flicked his wand at himself, banishing his clothes to the hamper.

Hermione's mouth dried as she took him in. He wasn't classically handsome, what little meaning that phrase had to her. But still, even after all this time, her husband's form thrilled her.

Severus was tall, skinny, strong but not sculpted. His hair was prone to collecting oil and grease quicker than he could wash it, his nose too large, his teeth too crooked... but dear, sweet God, how sexy he was to her. He'd worried about the scars, but they were worth barely a glance to her.

Unless, of course, she felt the need to worship him. His legs were slim, but powerful from years of striding about the castle. Perfect for thrusting into her.

His arms were strong, his chest firm, his stomach soft. And she loved his hair. Black, curly, not thick or sparse, just perfect. After sex, or just at bed, she loved to run her hand across his chest, feeling the crinkle of it. It went across his chest, to that line down his stomach, and, yes, pooled around his groin.

Was it wrong to find his body hair sexy? Ginny hadn't, the night Hermione'd been a bit too tipsy and confided her love of Severus' body.

Hermione added her jeans to the pile of clothing, removing her panties as he sat on the edge of the bed, beckoning to her with long, slim fingers. Oh, how she loved those fingers, how sure they were, how they could...

"Come here, Hermione." His voice was like silk, interrupting her reverie. Her heart pounded in her ears as she complied, kneeling between his legs.

His hand tipped her chin up, then slid down to lightly encircle her neck. Her pulse fluttered against his fingers and her eyes darkened. Circe, how he loved that. He knew by now just how to please her, what reactions would sate her needs.

"These are the rules tonight." His cock pulsed as he regarded her.

Oh, that low voice, speaking in chocolate tones, just for her. That voice which called to her in the dark, that had been a constant in her life. And these moments in time, when that sinister edge would return, made her feel edgy with need. These days, he spoke like that for her and only her.

"You, my sweet wife, are going to pleasure me. You will present to me your hands, and I will restrain you. You may not touch me with your hands." Her breathing was already ragged, he noted with certain male satisfaction. Oh, this would be lovely.

Hermione had quite the oral fixation, he'd learned, that was not restricted to the frayed ends of quills or heavily-marked pencils. On occasion, he would wake in the night to find her mouth on him. She'd suck him to alertness, cock hard and heavy, laving him sweetly and gently until, shaking with the urgency to fuck and come, he would pull her from him and make love to her.

His cock twitched, and her eyes flicked to it. "No. Look at me, wife."

Always 'wife' when Hermione needed this. This was pleasurable, yes, but this, while a facet of his wife, was not a game she played for enjoyment. This was something she needed, and he, her husband, her lover, provided.

"You may not touch yourself this time."

She whimpered in the back of her throat, a glorious little sound. His eyes glittered. "Give me your hands."

Hermione raised her hands to him, and the click of cool metal calmed her mind but set her body aflame. She needed this. Severus would take care of her, protect her as he always had. This was not his favorite game to play, but he did this for her. He loved her deeply that she had never had to ask him to say it. It shone in his eyes, registered in his very voice.

He released her neck and grasped the base of his cock instead. "Suck me, wife. Pleasure me. Show me exactly what that mouth of yours can do."

She trembled and leaned forward, lashes sweeping down against her cheeks, and licked the head of him, inhaling his scent.

Severus' scent was warm and musky and male. Dark and tang and earth and home. She leaned forward, running her tongue over his fingers and up and down his cock, wetting him.

A final flick of her tongue, and she engulfed him, sweetly, gently, his hissed intake of air as he released his hold on his cock sending a shiver of lust down her spine.

Cuffs clinked against the stone floor and she whimpered again. She loved this, following his directions. It was harmless, it was safe, it was...sexy. Desirable.

This was her equal, her friend, her lover, her husband, and for this brief moment, she was owned. Willingly enslaved as her body grew hot and wet and she increased the pressure on him.

He was long and thick and hard, perfect for him. The hair on his legs rasped against her shoulders, and he buried a hand in her curls.

"Oh, yes," he murmured, watching her breasts sway. "That's good wife, don't stop."

Moaning around his cock, Hermione sucked harder. God, she loved the way he tasted. She loved the way he smelled. She loved the way he felt in her mouth, hard and hot and smooth.

And she loved how it made him feel. Exhaling, she took him as deeply as she could, breaking rhythm to hold him there as he twitched at the tightness of her throat.

"Naughty minx", he groaned, tightening his fingers in her hair, and flicked his wand at her. He was rewarded with her moan vibrating up his length and he dropped his chin to his chest.

His hair fell forward and and he gasped. She was doubling her efforts now, moaning and whimpering and sucking him.

Her tongue caressed him, danced along him, pressed against that spot oh yes right there! and she was wet and tight and warm and perfect...

"Oh, Merlin, yes, don't stop".

His guttural voice, combined with his nonverbal spell, had her aching to be filled. Needy and hot and wet, the tingle of his magic had created the feeling of two hands her husband's clever fingers! pulling and rolling her nipples.

She clenched her hands into fists to keep from touching herself, but that didn't stop her from rocking as if she was riding him. And, oh, she loved to ride him, loved when he stiffened under her and all she could do was gasp and moan and pleasure herself with his body, pinning his hands with hers, his eyes burning as he gave her that wicked, wicked smirk...

Severus gasped, clenching her hair now, his hips thrusting a little. So close, oh Merlin, so close...

"Stop!" he choked out, pulling her back by the hair and following her to her feet before pushing her down onto the bed.

"Severus," she said, eyes dark with passion, lips swollen, the chain of her cuffs jingling as she obediently raised her hands to not touch him.

"Wife," he rasped, kneeling beside her as he reached between her legs. "So wet, sweet, are you wet for me?"

"Severus!" Her answer was a cry of his name. He continued to circle her clit gently, sliding a slender finger inside her. She gripped him, and he groaned.

"Kiss me." Desperately, Hermione complied, Severus shifted himself, kneeling between her legs, guiding himself into place.

Poised at her entrance, he ran his hands up to her, chest, feeling the tell-tale tingle of his spell. The feeling of his warm hands mingled with the phantom fingers made her strive to slip her tongue into his mouth.

He pulled back. "Naughty girl."

He nipped at her neck, and released the catch of one cuff, spreading her hands so he could grip them. "Oh yes, wife... you need this, I need this..."

And he thrust forward.

Heaven! Slick and hot and wet and tight. Hermione looked up at him with glazed eyes.

"Severus, yes, oh please, I need you, love, oh please oh please..." He bent to kiss her and started to move.

Her eyes fluttered shut, feeling him above her. The feel of his belly against hers, the press of his elbows, the god, yes! feel of his cock...

Her legs twitched as he brushed against that spot.

He growled down at her and angled himself to do it again. He loved this. Loved to make her come around him. Love to watch her try to keep her eyes open as passion took her. Loved to feel her legs shift to get him to slide in deeper. Loved to keep a nice, steady pace until she came.

Breathing heavily, Hermione tried to look into his face, his beautiful face with that slight bit of stubble, the marks from his glasses, as he drove into her. He thrust firmly, pressing his pelvis into her clit every time, and she felt eerily lightheaded and her legs trembled...

She clenched and moaned, whimpering, chanting out his name, clutching his hands tightly as she began to pulse and throb around his cock.

"Yessss" Severus hissed, eyes devouring her as her voice became a hoarse squeak, and increased his pace to what he'd need to come.

The feel of her, clenching and wet around him, he drove into her hard and fast and deep as she came, milking him, squeezing him and he gasped, stiffened, thrusting slower as he pulsed and twitched and came inside her.

He bent his head to kiss her, resting heavily atop her, panting into her neck, fingers limply gesturing to end his spell.

"Thank you," she murmured when she could, stroking his sweaty hair and back.

He kissed her neck. "You needed. I provide."

Hermione smiled and kissed the top of his head. "I love you, Severus."

"And I you, Hermione."

She made a happy, tired sound and nuzzled into the pillow, purposely tightening herself around his softening cock.

Eventually, they separated and he rolled onto his side of the bed. She following, resting her cheek on his chest, carding her fingers through the crinkle of his hair.

He smelled of sex and male and Severus and home.

The end. :)