Snanger Drabble

His unenthused sigh was heard even before his eyes had a chance to lift off his desk to see her walking towards him. "Miss Granger," He drawled, low and tiresome. His expression was blank and disinterested as usual, though even more so now that the night had quickly taken over and began darkening the old castle's thick stone walls. The quill in his hand paused as he waited for her to reach the edge of his desk where no doubt, her dainty fingertips would linger and caress against the deep burnt grains of its sturdy wooden surface. "I wasn't expecting you so late. Trouble?"

"Of course not." She replied coolly as her hands finally made contact with the desk's edge and brought his eyes away from his work at least. His desk, much like she expected, was covered in parchment. With the end of term quickly approaching, the strain on professors to finish grading the final few assignments they had presented to their students was growing heavier each passing day. "You've still got work to do." She noted briskly, picking up a small vial that was being used as a paperweight and examined it idly between her fingers.

He nodded. "I do. As I said, I wasn't expecting you tonight." His eyes trained on her, watching and waiting for her to place the vial back down on the papers where it belonged. "Did you need something?" He urged her impatiently as his quill began moving once again. His attention had dropped away from her as he focused back on the work in front of him, dismissive of her presence still so closely around him.

She seemed miffed by his disinterest but as she placed the vial back down on the desk and glanced over at the clock hung towards the back of the room, her thoughts sympathized with his. She was, after all, hours later than he expected her to be, and with the workload he still had left to do clearly swamping his free-time, perhaps her timing had been slightly misguided. Shifting away from his desk and further into the darkened office, her feet found her wandering over towards the large bookshelf beside his desk. "Actually, yes." She replied, lazily plucking a book off the shelf and thumbing through it carelessly. "I had hoped you'd still be interested in our plans for this evening. Are you not?"

He laid the quill down and turned his chair to the side to glare at her. "Surely, Miss Granger, as a fairly new professor and with the current school year nearly coming to a close in a matter of weeks, you have just as much work to dig through as the rest of us. Perhaps it would be wise of you to focus on that instead of spending your evening in my private chambers."

"Oh, I've finished my work." She corrected him suddenly, dropping the book back onto the shelf before wandering back over to his desk.

"I'd prefer you not lie to me. I can sense it on you before the words even leave your lips." Turning his chair back towards the parchment and quill sitting in front of him, he lifted the quill and trained his eyes back down onto the paper. "You never were good at lying, no matter how many times Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley had coaxed you into it." He grumbled under his breath and waited for her to take her leave. She remained. He let out another soft sigh and closed his eyes in frustration. "Was there anything else you required, Miss Granger?"

She moved closer, resting her hip against the edge of the desk beside his right arm, disrupting his writing enough to where he dropped the quill one final time and abandoned any hope of getting the rest of his work done for the evening. "You know what I require, Severus. I like to think you also enjoy yourself just as much as I do."

The Potions Master turned his chair towards her, away from his parchment and quill, and drew her in with a long, pale finger. He curled it inward, urging her to step closer. "Come here." She complied and when he held up his hand again to stop her just a few inches away from where he sat, he rewarded her with a satisfied smile and a soft purr, "Good girl." His hands reached out slowly to rest loosely on the curves of her hips as Hermione withdrew her wand from her cloak's inner pocket. She passed it briefly over her midsection, traveling down from her shoulders all the way along her center and down to her thighs. When she pulled her wand away, her flesh had gone bare. The chill in the air of the late evening dungeons made her skin prickle and tighten into little goose bumps that traveled down the length of her body. But his hands felt warm and as they left her hips to move further down, centering just between her thighs, he felt her warmth as well. "How is it that you're always so excited? How long has it been?"

Her breathing had gone heavy as a single finger dipped in between her folds and met with the moisture between them. He hummed at her softly as if to remind her of his question, to try to coax it out of her, and in a less than steady voice, she answered softly. "Eight days." Her cheeks were beginning to flush a deep pink and he knew that if he wanted to keep her going, he would have to pace his hand's motions a bit more carefully.

"Hmm," He stood from the chair, hunching over in order to keep his hand firmly in place between her legs, and brought his chin to rest lightly on her shoulder. The rough fabric of his buttoned down black robes brushed teasingly against her exposed breasts, making it harder for him to keep her in place in front of him. His lips moved beside her ear, the breath from his words tickling her as he asked, "And is that too long, you think?" His hand quickened and his finger's strokes inside her grew longer, making her hips push closer towards him. He pulled his hand away and tsk'ed at her with his tongue behind his teeth. "No, let me hear you. You're not an animal. Use your words." He scolded, reminding her of exactly the type of professor she had met in him during her first years at Hogwarts. He could be coarse and sarcastic, disapproving and crude, but she knew that no matter how badly she tried to deny it in the past, it all turned her on even more.

She bucked her hips against him again, trying to reach for his hand, but he pulled it back away before his fingers could enter her. He straightened up and stepped towards her, backing her up into the edge of the desk and turning her around with his hands on her waist. As if previously orchestrated by a past tussle, Hermione found herself bent forward with her forearms pressed firmly against the crowded desk's surface. She felt him behind her, leaning over her back with his head beside hers, his chin resting on her shoulder again, this time slightly heavier than before. A finger went back to her lower lips, circling and dancing around her entrance without giving her the satisfaction of depth that he knew she wanted. He cooed in her ear teasingly, dropping his voice down to a seductive tone, "Tell me what you need and I'll be more than happy to oblige."

Her frustration peaked as she tried to back against his hand again, only to feel him pull it away sharply with another disapproving tsking in her ear. She caved, as he knew she eventually would. "Please, I need to feel it. I need to cum, please." His cooing and purring in her ear was no match for her pleading.

But he couldn't give in so easily. He traced her outer lips and the surrounding length of sensitive skin trailing down her inner thighs and whispered back at her, urging her, "Now is that how you're supposed to ask for something? Please, what?"

She groaned with impatience and pushed back against his hand again, this time getting a short bit of relief as his finger slipped back inside, joined with a second, but it was short lived. Exiting her all too quickly, he repeated, "Please, what?"

"Sir," She finally breathed out through clenched teeth. She loved the struggle as much as he did, possibly even more so, and no matter how long he was willing to taunt her, he knew that she could make it last even longer if she was determined enough. Tonight however, she complied quickly, crying out again, "Please Sir, please."

With a sweet, lingering kiss in the crook of her neck, he purred at her again. "Good girl." His hand slipped back down between her thighs and sunk in smoothly. She had started off moist enough but as their teasing and taunting continued, her womanly center had dampened further, letting his fingers slip in further than before. He remained daped over her back with his free palm planted firmly on the desk beside her for support. "Do you feel that, Witch?" The Potions Master growled tantalizingly while his fingers continued to explore her. "Is that what you wanted?"

He felt her buck against him again and as his own arousal was too present to deny any longer, he unfastened the restraints of his trousers. Withdrawing his hand despite the sounds of protest from the witch beneath him, Severus pushed her further against the desk until the tops of her thighs were pressed snug against its thick wooden edge. The lengths of parchment and quills that weren't already pinned between her breasts and the desk's surface were pushed aside, brushed carelessly off the sides of the desk until they landed on the floor in a scattered mess.

His hands found the hardness behind the fabric of his robes and with a firm, possessive thrust against her, his full member had replaced his fingers eagerly. Dropping his grip down to the thickness of her hips and waist, he guided her back onto him. Her movements were sporadic at first, unplanned, and he encouraged it more and more as he stood as still as he could behind her, making her thrust back onto him for her own pleasure as well as his. But with the way she was squirming and moving beneath him, he could only give her that control for so long before he felt the urge to take it back and then some.

Lifting his grip from her waist, Severus drew his hand up and let it fall sharply onto the right side of her bottom. The strike vibrated through her and as his hand struck, making contact with her flesh, he felt her tighten and clench around his shaft. He continued pumping, drawing himself back inside before dragging back out of her, letting her muscles relax and calm with the feeling of his smooth movements inside her.

The witch's legs were trembling and the feel of the desk beneath her was as welcoming as his hands were as they grazed down the length of her back. His fingertips slowly passed down from her shoulders to the base of her ass and as he rounded the curve of her bottom again, she knew another strike was coming. He lifted his hand and felt her squeeze her walls around him, but the slap never landed. She let out an anxious laugh for falling for his trick, but the sudden intensity and uncertainty of his strikes made her insides quiver with even more need and desire than before.

She felt his hand lift up off of her backside again, and again she braced herself falsely. He chuckled behind her as her anxious laugh mixed with the frustration that had slowly but steadily been growing within her. Without warning, she felt the sting of his strike finally land and it jerked her harder than the first, having struck so unexpectedly this time. His thrusts deepened as he grinded against her. She felt him press himself over her again, bringing his lips down onto her shoulder and neck tenderly. "Don't tense unless I tell you to, do you understand?" He warned as she felt his hand caressing back over the flushed pink, wounded cheeks of her bottom. She relaxed underneath his touch but as soon as his hand lifted off her again, her body defensively tightened and he rewarded her with a sharp grazing of his teeth over the sensitive skin of her neck and shoulder. "What did I just say?" He warned her again and as much as his words and his roaming hands scared her, they made her all the more excited.

He steadied his thrusts, deepening and strengthening his movements until she was a complete mess beneath him. She needed release as badly as he did and as thrilling as their playing and toying had been, their time for completion was quickly approaching. Her body was flat against the firm desk's cold surface while the heat from him radiated behind her, on top of her, and inside her. His hand dropped down one more time onto her backside and she tightened around him, sending them both into a wave of intoxicating sensations. Severus thrust himself inside her with one final explosion of desire as Hermione felt herself unravel around him. The sensitivity of her womanly bits began to grow and peak as her release came as sudden as his.

With her body already collapsed on top of the Potion Master's desk, Severus lingered over her for another few moments before forcing himself to straighten up and temporarily sort out the appearance of his robes. She felt limp in his arms as he carefully lifted her up off the desk and raised her up with the aid of his wand. Transferring her gently into the adjacent room and onto his soft, comforting bed, he abandoned the mess of parchment and quills that were still littering his office floor.

His robes were discarded on his way to the bed and as he slipped beneath the thick covers, he felt her hand slither up and around his pale, lean frame. It settled loosely over his torso, her hand draping carelessly over the fading dark mark on his forearm. Perhaps she didn't notice she was touching it. Perhaps she didn't care, but as he shifted his arm self-consciously to release it from her gentle touch, he felt her pull herself closer towards him. With a heavy sigh and a flick of the blankets over their bodies, he dragged his marked arm over her exhausted form and waited for morning to come.