Dec 18, Harry Potter, Hermione/Severus, The Stockings Were Set Away from the Fire with Care Title: The Stockings Were Set Away from the Fire with Care Fandom: Harry Potter Pairing/Characters: Hermione/Severus Rating/Warnings: NC-17 (finally!) Disclaimer:here Prompt: #16 – fire, #11 – stocking Word Count: 648 Summary: Follows Silk Stockings and A Bit of Light Reading, and Playing the Game, Seize the Moment, and No More Interruptions.
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The wine glasses had long since been abandoned. In fact, Severus thought he’d heard one topple over a few minutes ago. So long as he didn’t end up kneeling on broken glass, he wasn’t fussed. Right now he was far more interested in the way the silk of Hermione’s dress felt as it slipped over her peaked nipples. Smooth. Luxurious. And very much in the way.
She arched away from the sofa back and reached behind her neck. Whatever she’d done made it much easier to ease the material off her shoulders and, more importantly, her breasts. He explored one of the nipples with his tongue as she tangled her fingers in his hair and made encouraging sounds. The fire popped and crackled as he switched his attentions to her other breast, nibbling and suckling appreciatively.
Suddenly the hands in his hair drew him back up for another searching kiss before they wandered to his shirt, his frock coat having been discarded shortly after the wine. Her hands were warm and soft as they explored the sparse hair of his chest and then wandered further. He moaned into her mouth when she caressed him through his trousers but then pulled away.
“Not yet,” he murmured, clamping down on the instincts that were howling at him. He’d had something else in mind since she’d first walked past him at the party.
Sliding to the floor, he knelt before her and stroked his fingers slowly upward, seeking the top of her stocking, and rolling it slowly down, following his fingers with his lips. Her toenails were painted a vibrant red, he noticed as he uncovered them, and the varnish sparkled in the firelight. By the time he had removed the other stocking, setting it carefully next to the first, well away from the hearth, she was wriggling impatiently.
Guiding her hips to the edge of the sofa and rucking her dress up around her waist, he nibbled and kissed his way back up along the inside of her now bare leg, smirking as she tried to hurry him along. And then he was parting her lips, tasting her sweetness. Her musky scent was more intoxicating than the finest wine, and her excited mews guided him to just where and how she wanted him to swirl his tongue. With one hand, he fumbled his rough woolen trousers open and stroked himself briefly through his pants, desperate for more but not wanting to come just yet.
Her legs tensed, and he suckled her clitoris just that little bit harder, as she cried out and fisted his hair in her hands.
He stumbled a bit getting up, not the graceful move he’d planned, but then claimed her mouth, sharing her sweet taste with her as he shed his trousers and guided her to lie back. Her eyelids fluttered closed as he entered her. Merlin, it was wonderful to be engulfed by her, and he quickly lost any pretense of holding back as he stroked in and out of her body with abandon, thrilling to the touch of her hands on his chest, his face, and finally gripping his arse and urging him on.
He later thought she might have come again. He hoped so, but he’d been a bit too preoccupied to be sure, as a wave of ecstasy exploded through him and into her, leaving him blissfully spent and utterly incapable of rational thought.
She nudged him to one side, and he was surprised to discover there was room for that. Apparently her sofa was deeper than he’d realized. He kissed her lazily, palming a breast and leaning into her hand as she caressed his face.
It occurred to him to wonder what Potter and the others would make of their disappearance. As she sighed a satisfied little sound and curled up closer to him, he decided he didn’t particularly care.