Eye Of The Storm...
Title: Eye Of The Storm... Parts The Sixth, Seventh, Eighth, Ninth, Tenth and Eleventh.
Team: Spy For The DE's
Challenge: Behind Closed Doors, squint and you might miss it Possessive Snape...
Word Count: 6 x 100
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Severus and Hermione
Author's notes: The tale concludes. As always, not mine, no money all errors are mine, precious.
Hermione whipped back the shower curtain, despite its determination to cling to her. Fiddling with the tap, it finally stuttered into life and let out a juddering stream of water that ran over her arm. Still Snape stood there.
Hermione grasped the front of his coat, yanking it off. It fell heavily to the floor and by the time she had started to take off his shirt Snape seemed to have woken up enough to help. As he fumbled with the fastening of his trousers, Hermione balled up the shirt, stuffing it in the sink. She wanted to burn it.
* * *
Steam started to cloud the mirror. Snape rested a hand firmly on Hermione's shoulder as he struggled with his boots and socks. Finally, she pushed him under the spray, the water running a pale pink as it ran off his lean body. Rather than pull back the shower curtain, Snape reached out a bloody hand and pulled her in, clothes and all.
Water sluiced over his long hair, which was still pulled back into a ponytail. Snape pulled Hermione tightly against him. She pushed her hair out of her eyes, when she finally stopped moving she felt Snape's muscles relax.
* * *
Drenched, she stared up at him, blinking against the water. His grip on her loosened, though she was still held close to his chest. She felt the sigh that he expelled rather than heard it. Her heart ached for him. What had he seen? Whose blood was pooling around their feet? What had delayed their rendezvous?
Snagging the sponge from the soap dish, Hermione extracted herself from his embrace just enough to start running it over the lean planes of Snape's chest. He bowed his head, eyes closed. Until now, Hermione hadn't noticed how pale and drawn he truly was.
* * *
She stared at his sallow face, fascinated. Her sponge slid lower, wrist bumping against the head of his erect cock. Hermione paused, not sure how to proceed. Snape's expression didn't change. His breathing didn't quicken. If anything, he relaxed further. She glanced down, sponge skimming awkwardly across his lower stomach.
Harnessing the same Gryffindor boldness that had let her strip him, she moved lower, caressing his erection. Just the smallest intake of breath caught her attention; Snape bit down on his lower lip, the briefest flash of yellowing teeth on pink lips.
Hermione let the sponge fall from her grasp.
* * *
Hermione's fingers curled gently around his length, gliding slowly up and down. Snape's large hand rested on the small of her back, fisting her sodden t-shirt. The strength of his grasp spurred her on, infusing her with a growing sense of urgency. He held her tighter and she leant forward, forehead resting against the crook of his neck as her hand stroked him with increasing speed.
Her hair clung to her face, but Hermione kept her eyes closed. Against her, she could feel the pulsing of Snape's heart and the way his muscles tensed and flexed as he breathed.
* * *
His whole body seemed to tighten one final time, his release covering her hand before the shower washed it away. Hermione's hand slid to the base of his erection, holding it until they sagged against each other.
She turned off the shower. Water dripped from her clothes and their hair, draining clear around their feet. For the first time Severus kissed whilst and trying to press her against the tiles. She slipped and he grasped at her, pulling her flush against his chest.
"Dolohov can't harm you anymore," he murmured into her hair.
"Thank you," she whispered against his chest.
Team: Spy For The DE's
Challenge: Behind Closed Doors, squint and you might miss it Possessive Snape...
Word Count: 6 x 100
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Severus and Hermione
Author's notes: The tale concludes. As always, not mine, no money all errors are mine, precious.
Hermione whipped back the shower curtain, despite its determination to cling to her. Fiddling with the tap, it finally stuttered into life and let out a juddering stream of water that ran over her arm. Still Snape stood there.
Hermione grasped the front of his coat, yanking it off. It fell heavily to the floor and by the time she had started to take off his shirt Snape seemed to have woken up enough to help. As he fumbled with the fastening of his trousers, Hermione balled up the shirt, stuffing it in the sink. She wanted to burn it.
* * *
Steam started to cloud the mirror. Snape rested a hand firmly on Hermione's shoulder as he struggled with his boots and socks. Finally, she pushed him under the spray, the water running a pale pink as it ran off his lean body. Rather than pull back the shower curtain, Snape reached out a bloody hand and pulled her in, clothes and all.
Water sluiced over his long hair, which was still pulled back into a ponytail. Snape pulled Hermione tightly against him. She pushed her hair out of her eyes, when she finally stopped moving she felt Snape's muscles relax.
* * *
Drenched, she stared up at him, blinking against the water. His grip on her loosened, though she was still held close to his chest. She felt the sigh that he expelled rather than heard it. Her heart ached for him. What had he seen? Whose blood was pooling around their feet? What had delayed their rendezvous?
Snagging the sponge from the soap dish, Hermione extracted herself from his embrace just enough to start running it over the lean planes of Snape's chest. He bowed his head, eyes closed. Until now, Hermione hadn't noticed how pale and drawn he truly was.
* * *
She stared at his sallow face, fascinated. Her sponge slid lower, wrist bumping against the head of his erect cock. Hermione paused, not sure how to proceed. Snape's expression didn't change. His breathing didn't quicken. If anything, he relaxed further. She glanced down, sponge skimming awkwardly across his lower stomach.
Harnessing the same Gryffindor boldness that had let her strip him, she moved lower, caressing his erection. Just the smallest intake of breath caught her attention; Snape bit down on his lower lip, the briefest flash of yellowing teeth on pink lips.
Hermione let the sponge fall from her grasp.
* * *
Hermione's fingers curled gently around his length, gliding slowly up and down. Snape's large hand rested on the small of her back, fisting her sodden t-shirt. The strength of his grasp spurred her on, infusing her with a growing sense of urgency. He held her tighter and she leant forward, forehead resting against the crook of his neck as her hand stroked him with increasing speed.
Her hair clung to her face, but Hermione kept her eyes closed. Against her, she could feel the pulsing of Snape's heart and the way his muscles tensed and flexed as he breathed.
* * *
His whole body seemed to tighten one final time, his release covering her hand before the shower washed it away. Hermione's hand slid to the base of his erection, holding it until they sagged against each other.
She turned off the shower. Water dripped from her clothes and their hair, draining clear around their feet. For the first time Severus kissed whilst and trying to press her against the tiles. She slipped and he grasped at her, pulling her flush against his chest.
"Dolohov can't harm you anymore," he murmured into her hair.
"Thank you," she whispered against his chest.