The Mating Game

Chapter Seven

Wedding Night

Snape stepped forward then, so he was standing before her, and kissed her gently on the forehead. His hands reached out tentatively, rested on her hips, and drew her nearer.

For some reason that Hermione couldn’t understand (after all, she was definitely not attracted to Professor Snape), her breathing had become fast and shallow. The sudden surge of wetness between her legs made her realize that while Snape wasn’t necessarily attractive, he was a man, and he was doing things to her that she’d never experienced before.

His hands, so deft in the potions lab, were tentatively exploring her body for the first time. She’d always imagined that, on her wedding night, she and her bridegroom would be ripping clothes off as soon as they got behind closed doors. Yet now that the occasion was here, she found that things were occurring in a much more leisurely fashion. He hadn’t even unbuttoned a single button yet, but was slowly running his hands over every part of her fully-clothed body, as though committing her shape to memory.

It seemed, she thought, as though he were waiting for a signal. She couldn’t think of what to say, so she acted instead. Her hands reached out almost of their own accord and began stroking his chest. She’d never realized before how thin he was; he seemed to have chosen his clothes to disguise his slender build.

She pinched his rear playfully and was surprised when he reacted by sweeping her off her feet and carrying her to the bedroom. He set her down gently on her feet, right next to the massive four-poster bed that dominated the room.

His fingers nimbly unfastened the tiny mother-of-pearl buttons that fastened her robes. After slipping off her dress robes, he knelt before her and began lavishing his attentions on her breasts. One of her breasts was cupped in his left hand, while the other received gentle kisses from his mouth. Meanwhile, his right hand was reaching around to unhook her bra.

Somehow, despite the dizzying spiral of pleasure into which she was rapidly sinking, she managed to undo his robes as well. As the black velvet crumpled to the floor, she became vividly aware of the large bulge in his black silk boxers.

Suddenly he rose from his knees, swept her off her feet again, and tossed her lightly onto the bed. Sitting down next to her, he quickly divested her of her knickers.

As he reached down to remove his own underwear, Hermione looked over his body. He would never be a model for Witch Weekly, it was true, but there was something appealing about the way he was built. She ran her eyes over his slender frame, lightly muscled and covered with fine black hairs. Dropping her eyes below his waist, she took in the sight of his swollen member and found herself filled with an instinctual desire to make love to him.

Odd,

she thought, that I can dislike this man so thoroughly and yet be eager to jump him.

Now he was kneeling between her spread legs, lowering himself onto her body. When he positioned himself at her entrance, she moaned in anticipation, wrapping her arms around his naked back. A moment later, she was gasping in pain as he thrust himself eagerly into her virgin territory. Almost immediately, he pulled back, almost leaving her. "Shall I stop? I don’t want to hurt you."

The earlier shock of realizing how much she wanted him was nothing compared to the realization that, even though it hurt like hell, she still wanted–no, needed–him to be inside her, filling her.

"No–go on, please. I didn’t expect my first time to be all fun and games."

Gingerly he sheathed himself inside her once more, trying to move gently to minimize the pain. After a while, however, it was obvious that pleasure was diminishing his self-control, for his thrusts became more forceful. Looking up into his face, Hermione saw a different man. Gone was the tension, the anger, the rigid control. And when, at last, he reached his climax and collapsed on top of her, gasping with pleasure, she felt a curious sense of power at being able to change him so dramatically.

The Old Snape returned quickly, however. As soon as he regained enough composure to roll off her, he ordered: "Turn on your side, facing away from me."

Curiosity got the better of her and she complied without question.

"Now I expect you to do exactly as I tell you," he said in the commanding whisper she remembered from her school days. "I am going to perform a little experiment. I do not want to hear one word from you telling me how the experiment is going. Instead, while I proceed, we shall have a nice little chat. Is that understood?"

She nodded silently.

"I understand that you are a university student right now?" His arm was slipping around her front, reaching between her legs.

"Yes. I finished my first year at Oxford in June. I’m reading in Charms and Transfiguration both, at least until I decide what I want to specialize in."

"And did you receive satisfactory marks?" His dexterous fingers were exploring her crotch. Just as he finished his question, he found her clit for the first time. She struggled to maintain her composure as she answered.

"Yes, I was…mmm…top of my class."

"How surprising," he remarked dryly. His fingers began making a small circling motion on the sensitive nub. "And have you decided yet which you prefer, Charms or Transfiguration?"

"N…nn…nno!" gasped Hermione. "They’re both very…interesting." The things he was doing to her were very interesting too. She could feel little streamers of electricity radiating outward from her core, down her legs, up towards her arms and head.

"I take it you will be returning to Oxford in a few weeks, then?"

The only response Snape got was "Ahh…ahhh…ohhhh!" as he brought his wife over the top.

"Is that a yes?" he smirked.

Hermione, breathing heavily, managed to nod.

"A very successful experiment, then?"

"No wonder you got ninety-some marriage proposals," she finally mumbled.

He cleared his throat. "Actually, that was my first experiment," he said quietly. "I suspect that two years ago people would have been paying me to stay away…but money and prestige matter quite a bit in the wizarding world, and I have managed to accumulate a fair amount of both in the last year or so."

"Didn’t work for me," said Hermione crossly.

"Not surprising," he replied. "Most wizards are intimidated by successful witches."

"Not you, though, I take it?"

"I’m a professor," he said shortly. "I have my fill of uneven relationships. When you have several hundred students who cower before you, you do not search out a wife who will do the same."

"Speaking of students," she said, stifling a yawn, "does term start on the first, as always?"

"Yes. Were you planning to stay around that long?"

"Didn’t mean to," she mumbled sleepily.

"Didn’t expect you to," he said quietly. "I have lesson plans to prepare, anyway."

Hermione drifted off into slumber. She didn’t realize that her husband lay awake beside her for another hour, gently stroking her body, before he, too, fell asleep.