In His Charge (The morning after Narcissa's marking ceremony)

[_the_ice_queen]

The morning after her marking ceremony, Narcissa was to see Severus. She had been put in his charge along with Draco and Lucius, and she was to be his acolyte. The Dark Lord, it seemed, was too busy for new recruits, particularly the wives of the dishonoured. Severus would see to her assignments and training, exploiting her talents and her wiles

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[stoppered_death]

Snape kept irregular hours at the best of times, and as long as he could remember, it had been rare for him to manage more than a few hours of sleep per night. So it was no great surprise that the knock found him alert and aware. He peered into the Foe-Glass he'd modified to show anyone attempting to gain entry to his quarters, sighed, and put down the ladle and set the stasis-charmed lid on the cauldron, closing the door to the laboratory as he waved the door to the corridor open.

His garb (plain, close-cut robes with narrow sleeves designed not to trail in cauldrons) made it clear that he'd been working, but his low voice betrayed no impatience - or any other reaction - as he murmured, just as he'd done that fateful night at Spinner's End, "Narcissa. What a pleasant surprise." The arch of his brow conveyed the question he didn't bother to put into speech.

[stoppered_death]

Just as deftly, Snape flicked his wand out of his sleeve and into his grasp, breaking the kiss long enough to hiss "Spermicidis" under his breath. Secure in the knowledge that he'd killed every last one of those cells as dead as Dumbledore, he pocketed the wand and resumed slow, sampling kisses, his hands sliding over her curves with equal deliberation, like a blind man investigating a sculpture.

[_the_ice_queen]

From lips to cheek to jawline to jugular, Narcissa trailed a sweet and savage blend of nips and kisses down the harsh lines of his features.

'Divestimenta' would have been so much easier considering the never-ending row of buttons, but Narcissa saw greater enjoyment in the waiting game, seconds here and seconds there to imagine the taste of his cock as it bulged her cheeks, or the feel of him inside her. Roughly. fucking. her.

Fingers trembling with want, she abandoned her silent word and slid her hand inside his shirt, running her nails down the scarred length of his chest.

[stoppered_death]

A harsh exhalation of breath, a brief scrunch of sallow features, as her sharp nails excoriate the stretched ridges of scar tissue. Snape's impatient flick of a Divestimenta rids the two of them of clothing with efficient speed.

An inquiring look that seems to ask almost as clearly as speech: Where do you want this?

[_the_ice_queen]

In less than two blinks, she was standing bare before him. Not a patient man, no. Obviously not one for foreplay. She could do this, she thought. Just as much as he could. If he desired a cold and impersonal feel to their intimacy, she would do him one better, answering the look he gave her with one of her own. Lucius hadn't declared her his match, his perfect bookend on beauty alone.

Hips asway, she directed him to the bed, prodding him in the chest with a playful smile. "The bed, Severus. Only commoners fuck on the floor."

[stoppered_death]

An arch of an eyebrow and a dry, "I concede to your superior experience of observing commoners fuck." It was about as close as the sarcastic sod ever got to teasing. His smirk as he strode toward the bed was belied by his lengthening shaft, already half-hard.

He stretched out on the bed, his gaunt body positively pallid against the dark cover. His manner showed no unease with his own stark nakedness as he settled back against the pillows: the casual, lounging position was quite unlike his usual standoffish air.

[_the_ice_queen]

Narcissa liked this aloofness. A piquant blend of tease and torture he wore as well as patchouli and sandalwood. And this she conceded had attracted her Lucius to him. In some ways, she could hardly blame the magnetism.

Straddling his lap, she leaned forward and took a nipple between soft lips, suckling it to a peak. Her own nipples brushed against the paleness of his flesh with the rise and fall of her movements, long, silken strands of her hair fanning his chest and neck.

Reaching between their bodies, she took his cock in her hand, stroking him to full hardness, sliding it against the dampness between her lips. She was eager, hungry for him as she readied herself for the impalement, lowering her hips as she baited him with wicked looks.

[stoppered_death]

Deft hands slid up Narcissa's thighs, pausing on the unfamiliar width of hips, the fuller curve of her arse. His chest lifted in a slow sigh, as his nipple peaked in her lips.

One hand lifted to stroke softly through the pale fall of her hair; he watched it with slitted eyes as a drop of precum welled at the tip of his cock.

As she teased him with her wet folds, his other hand slid stealthily up her inner thigh to her mound, fingertips investigating amid the curls, finding and rubbing her clitoris.

[_the_ice_queen]

His hands.

Narcissa had to admit those hands of his with their swift and spidery fingers attracted her. A man's hands revealed quite a bit about his character, and she had known early on that he must be skilled with them. She had watched him in Potions class: plucking, picking, and pinching, nimble-fingered and soft of touch. She was quite certain he could play anything he stroked or strummed or struck.

And now his hands were touching her. Here. There. Yes, there.

She moaned her approval as his fingers spread through the breadth of soft curls, thumb and forefinger massaging her clit in slow deliberate circles. Arching her back and rotating her hips, she let his fingers breach her depths, warm and wet and inviting.

Like a serpent poised for strike, she leaned forward and licked the drop of precome from the head of his cock, inviting his next caress with chess-move anticipation.

[stoppered_death]

The hand sifting through her hair, the one teasing her clit, both slid round to pull her hips forward; now it was his turn to tease her, brushing along her folds with his cockhead, nudging slightly, without ever quite pushing inside. He smirked up at her, in an 'anytime you're ready' manner.