A Change Of Pace

Is this dancing? We´re hardly doing more than turn in circles embracing each other. Any idiot could do this...

I suppose I should be thankful, though, that the first tune for us turns out to be slow. To ease me into this position of intimacy with her, instead of throwing me.

My joints don´t want to give up their perpetual rigidity. I just haven´t used these muscles enough, and I hope she doesn´t find me a dull bore for it.

"Here. Like this," she whispers, and my worries are confirmed--she finds me too stiff for her liking. She sways a little, taking me with her. My first impulse, of course, is to stiffen even more.

"Hey. Just let go. Like this." Her breath rushes past my earlobe, sending a shiver right to my very core. How could just a whisper affect me so? I ask as I surrender to her lead, putting, like her, a subtle twist in my body´s motion.

I tingle again as her hands come to rest on my upper back. She does not stroke me, but ever so often will push a finger into my flesh. Her chin is tucked neatly above my collarbone, and her scent is overwhelming--the perfume, the aldehyde and cream of her hair potion, and something else, something indescribable and heady--possibly her body, her skin. The touch of her earring against my neck makes me blink.

I remember I have hands. I start to move them up and down her back, and I think I feel her reward me with tingles of her own. My left hand comes to rest at the small of her back, and I definitely feel her shiver then. I run my hand up and down, not moving more than a few inches, and then I gasp as her tongue teases its way along my ear, flicking the thin crevices-- I´ll get her back for that.

I keep my left hand where it is, and use my right to give her trim waist a gentle squeeze. I slide my right hand lower, over the swell of her hips, and I´m feeling wicked, I spread my fingers out to knead the resilient cheek-- Now it´s her turn to gasp, and I know I have taken things too far. I drop my hands to my sides and curse inwardly, not wanting to look at her... but I can´t resist, and to my surprise I find she is giggling. I find this strangely reassuring.

Her smile broadens and I feel her snake her arms around my waist. I embrace her again, taking care not to play any games this time, even though she was not perturbed. She lowers one of her hands to caress the base of my spine--and flame sparks within me. She´s holding back just enough to be discreet, while giving me unbelievable pleasure whether she knows it or not. Hot, then cold, then shaking, the sensations run through my body... And we have not lost our step this entire time.

My eyelids feel heavy, misted, as I raise my head to look at her and see an expression of such welcome and tenderness that I swallow. Even here, in the distorting light... I close my eyes and lean forward, my lips touching hers, and her arms tighten as she responds to me--me alone--

"Get a room!" scoffs a man next to us. I realize the tune has changed to a fast tempo again. Damn. Another moment gone.

"Never mind him. He´s just being rude," she says. "I don´t like this song anyway." She motions us off the dance floor, pressing her arm to my back, and I notice that a lot of the people sitting off to the side are kissing and caressing. Have they no shame? Wait--neither have I. Or her--We find a somewhat empty space and continue our slow dance. She puts her arms around my waist again and pulls me to her. I can´t open my eyes at first. We are moving very slowly in a circle again, probably looking like two hugging zombies. But when I finally open my eyes and catch hers, I see a most unzombielike heat radiating from them. Even in the less-than-half light, I can see their color--sizzling, smoldering brown. And those eyes are on me alone.

Part of me rebels then. When did I ever say I wanted her? Didn´t I know what she meant when she said she wanted us to spend more "special" time together? What have I gotten myself into? This may be your last chance to change your mind, if you decide you don´t want this...

"Oh, wait, can we please dance to this one? Please, Severus." Any chance I may have had--to close our distance or, conversely, to bolt--evaporates in that instant, with these words. I raise my eyes to hers again, and they are still sizzling, but with more childlike enthusiasm this time and less passion. How many more moments can you stand to lose before you have a heart attack, Severus? And miles away from any competent mediwizard most likely...

But the arm that leads me out there feels very un-childlike... it´s smooth and graceful in its insistence, compelling, and yes, passionate.

She abruptly turns around to face me, her arm outstretched and clasping my hand, her other arm hanging at her side. Her head is slightly thrown back.

"My dear Professor Snape," she says giving her best Mona-Lisa smile, "May I please have this dance?" And I lose the last bit of resistance I´ve possessed. My free hand comes around to encircle her waist again as the cadence of the song changes.

We break into a deeper-stepping version of a two-step. She, of course, is leading. Curiously, she seems patient with me, not demanding. I am actually moving more smoothly than I ever would have thought possible. Taking advantage of my greater confidence, I decide to control things for a while, taking one of her hands and holding it off to the side about a third of the way out, then turning us in circles again. To a more experienced dancer, I must look like I definitely do not know what I´m doing, but I do not care. Not about anything but how she feels.

After a few complete revolutions I look at her. Her eyes are sparkling and unless I miss my guess, she is pleasantly surprised. She likes it when I´m in control.

I then stretch out my arm tango-style, the one clasping her hand. Our eyes meet again, and her arm tightens around my waist. I´ve always wanted to do this even though I´ve only watched it so far.

There´s not much I know about you

Fear will always make you blind

But the answer is in clear view

It´s amazing what you´ll find face to face...

Slowly, carefully, I lead off our tango. I´m afraid I´ll step on her feet--but the soft smile on her face reassures me that I´m doing an at least halfway decent job. She nudges me into putting a lilt into my step like she is doing, and I find I can do it without breaking my rhythm.

We move one line to the side, and come back the other end--I know I´m supposed to do something with my arms at the end of each line, that I missed last time. She answers for me, pulling my extended arm up and doing a few pirouettes. The shirrs on her skirt make enticing whorls before settling down around her waist again.

She starts having a little fun, stomping on the floor, putting both hands on my waist and spinning us both around, kicking her legs high. The latter in particular is starting to distract me. I pull her closer, partly to try to get my concentration back, a goal she thwarts when she presses her hips very close to mine, making me take a sharp breath. Her smile is positively naughty. What does she think she´s doing?

I know how best to remedy that situation. I pick her up. Tuck her under my arm, head down and feet up. A woman isn´t really that heavy to lift if you distribute her weight properly. With one hand grasping her waist and the other pressed against her back for stability, I move us around in circles. "Ohhh..." I hear her say. I know now, I´ve gotten her back. I hear myself chuckling as I continue to rotate.

She pulls the band from her hair in mid-spin and her curls tumble down, flowing with the arc of her body. She stretches out her arms and runs her fingers through her hair, until it falls below her head in a thick, rippling cascade.

But when I faced you in my blank confusion

I realized you weren´t wrong, it was a mere illusion...

She laughs again, and I look down, still twirling her. My trousers are suddenly much tighter and hotter.

The sight of her suspended in my arms, her hair flying, her skirt allowing me tempting glimpses of her upper thighs, her breasts pulled skyward by her stretch... I must have felt arousal as I saw her in this state.

But then I pull her up toward me, we touch hip to hip as before, and it´s actually palpable. More important, she knows of it.

It´s not hard to go the distance

When you finally get involved face to face...

The song changes again in that instant. Judging from her grimace, it´s another one she doesn´t like. But she re-focuses her attention on me, closing her lips and taking on a thoughtful expression, pressing ever closer, snaking her arms around to my back.

She enjoys knowing she´s brought me to this.

I am lost as she twists her hips against my erection, which I hope no one else could see. I close my eyes, my heart thundering. Then I feel her lips touching mine again, a very chaste kiss. She slips just the tip of her tongue between my lips, going no farther than their inner surfaces, tickling and tantalizing me.

One of my hands is on the small of her back again. I always did love that part of her-- just the right size and shape for me. My other hand is on the back of her neck, and her hair wisps across my face as she deepens the kiss. I can´t go on. This is just too much. If we don´t stop right now, I´ll lose control and end up mounting her right on this dance floor...

I break the kiss, politely but firmly, and notice the dreamy look in her eyes. "I think it would be an excellent idea to quit this place and go somewhere more private."

Another twist of her hips. "Yes. Let´s get out of here." Her voice is a throaty growl, a promise of delights to come. She tucks her arm in mine and we stroll off the dance floor and out the door. She doesn´t even protest that we had been there only about an hour.

¨¨¨¨¨

It´s torture for me as we walk down the street, trying to conceal my arousal, control myself until we´re alone again. Our touching is making it very difficult. I may have to force myself to disengage from her. Fortunately, most of the people here are too drunk to care.

We end up having to walk quite a distance. Slowly but surely I feel my passion cool down, but I still have to force myself not to look at her. I only hope she doesn´t interpret my actions as disgust, or lack of interest.

Finally we step into the lobby of a hotel, a tasteful middle-class one from the looks of it. Good. I don´t want her splurging all night on my account. She takes out a small card, about three by two inches, hands it to the Muggle at the desk, and a moment later takes it back from her with a key. "We´re in room 433," she says. "The staircase is this way."

Inside the stairwell I say, "You don´t want to go back to Hogsmeade? All we have to do is Apparate back."

"I´d rather stay the night now that I think of it," she says. "All night I´ve been harping on you, but I think I may need a change myself."

I think this is strange until I remember that going to London probably isn´t that unusual or special to her. Having me along, however, is--and I don´t know whether to be excited or brace myself for a disappointment. I hope I haven´t been misreading her all along. Better not lose control in case it is a disappointment...

She unlocks the door to a tidy bedsit with a single queen bed. At least that´s a good sign. There is also a sofa in front of the television. Or not. Maybe she has noticed my mental preparation for a letdown, because she smiles at me. The most enticing, come-hither smile I have seen on her tonight--even considering her earlier behavior.

She takes my hand and raises it to her lips, saying, "You were amazing tonight, Professor," in a humorously exaggerated politeness. She then clutches my hand to her face, partly burying it in her hair, and reaches out her other hand to stroke my cheek. My eyes find hers again, and I am pleased to see them blazing as before.

Goddamn it, woman, why don´t you just ask me to take you to bed already?! I have had it with beating around the bush. I pass my free arm around her waist and draw her to me. I will not delay and let this moment, too, be intruded upon.

All worries that I may be coming off too rough, vanish as she opens her lips beneath mine. She sighs into my mouth as I run my hands all over her body, her tongue answering mine stroke for stroke. It seems the most natural thing in the world to savor her sweet, sensuous flavor, to feel the equal satin smoothness of her skin, her hair, and her dress. I hike up her skirt and take my fill of my favorite part of her, that fetching curve at the small of her back, and the tempting roundness of her derrière.

She shudders... I cannot get enough of her responsiveness. The tremor travels all the way up to my ear, which her lips are caressing again. She whispers, and I can´t make it out... but I could have sworn I heard her thank me...

I am suddenly savage, ravenous. I crush her against me, tear my mouth from hers and bite a row down the side of her neck as my hands squeeze and knead her derrière, rubbing her up and down against my hardness. Her voice is deep and hoarse as she lets out a moan every time she exhales. Soon it is my turn to moan, as I haven´t noticed what she has been doing with her hand until now. After running it down my back she has skipped between my legs and grasped me.

She slides her hand up and down... and I have had enough. If that´s the way she wants to play it... In one movement I have relieved her of that dress, and she is tearing at my clothes with equal ferocity. Soon she is wearing nothing but the red rose and the ankle bracelet, she is planting fierce kisses all over my chest, and is in the process of yanking down my boxers, which I only notice now are black silk.

I lift her up and she locks her legs around my waist. She tilts my head back and her mouth sears my throat. We collapse onto the bed and I join her in one swift motion. I shiver as I take in her moans, as excited as the hands clawing my back. After a few minutes she nudges me, and I flip us over, taking care to stay with her. She moves slowly at first and then faster and faster, and my fingers dig into her hips as she comes, releasing a loud scream and throwing her head back, followed seconds later by my own, softer scream as I crest my own peak.

She sits up there for a minute, breathing heavily, the fire in her eyes gradually cooling down. She pushes herself up, then leans forward and just barely touches her lips to mine.

And this time I really do hear it, the merest whisper against my mouth: "Thank you."

¨¨¨¨¨

It´s the best night´s sleep I´ve had in months. No--years, positively. I could take on a hundred dunderhead-filled classes today. I open my eyes and am shocked to see white sheets instead of black. This isn´t my bed.

No canopy or curtains, no bookshelves... just a stiffel lamp on a nightstand and pale blue walls. Where am I and what am I doing here? I turn over... Oh. I forgot. That´s what I´m doing here.

It must have been more of a shock to my system than I think, this change in my routine. Has it really been that long?... Quite possibly yes.

And she had to practically force me to do it, to be with her.

But I find it isn´t half bad. I could get to like this. In fact, I think as I bend over her, I´m surprised I haven´t done it more before...

She looks like a sleeping goddess, her hair fanned out on the pillow, her hands tucked under it, the rose glimmering in the morning light, her eyebrows and eyelashes lush and peaceful, her fair skin glowing, her lips full and ripe... her breasts exposed. I lean down to kiss one nipple, and then the other, and then she opens her eyes.

"Severus?"

"Hmmm?"

"What do you think you´re doing?"

She completely disarms me with her lilting voice. I look into her eyes, which are smoldering, but softly now.

"Why, waking you up of course."

"Mmmm. How about a good morning kiss?" She tilts my head up, and we do, for a long, languid minute.

"What day is it?" I ask when we break apart.

"Saturday."

"Oh. Then I have a perfectly valid excuse for missing class if anyone misses me."

"By all means." She sits up and turns to me. "Severus, did I tell you I appreciated it?"

"What?"

"You being here." She casts her eyes down a little.

"Yes. I believe that was the last thing you said before you passed out."

She chuckles, and then her eyes focus on mine again. "Well, I´ll say it again. Thank you."

"You´re welcome." I pull her into another kiss. "You really had to fight hard for me, didn´t you?"

"Yes, you did make things difficult. Perhaps it´s your idea of playing hard-to-get?"

"Maybe. I don´t usually consider myself above such tactics. After all, I am a Slytherin."

"Yes, you certainly are," she says wickedly, embracing me and running her fingers down my spine, making me shiver a little.

"So, what do you want to do today?"

"I don´t know, what is there to do?"

"Well, there´s Buckingham Palace, tours of Windsor Castle, the pigeons at Trafalgar Square..."

"...How about we get to them later? There´s something right now I want to take care of first." I pull her into my arms and find her lips again. She finds my idea quite satisfactory.

THE END