The Exposure

Chapter Forty-Five

          Your eyes flutter up to his and his dark ones bore into you as he continues in a deep, sultry voice, "It sensed my need..." he leans in closer, his lips gently kissing your jaw, biting it in soft little nibbles up to your ear, where he purrs lowly, "...and as I told you, I simply...must...have you. It would seem that the room agrees." He raises up to look you in the eye, smirks and kisses you softly, closing the distance between your lips.

          "But...what about the Headmaster? Were we not forbidden from "consorting" in the castle?"

           "Minerva actually suggested it, believe it or not. She decided that setting a rule that was near impossible for us to keep only sets us up to fail every time we break it." He looks up thoughtfully for a moment. "And that perhaps giving us certain allowances would cause the least amount of grief all around." 

          He arches his brow after a moment, "She also suggested that the risk of us meeting here was much lower than anywhere else, and I suppose she's quite appreciative of the bludgeoning you're taking on behalf of the school." His gaze falls on you tenderly, his fingers gently stroking your cheek. "Beautiful...inside and out." He taps your nose with his finger. You blush and smile under his warm and kind attention. 

          He suddenly grabs you by your waist and pulls you up and over to lie on top of him, and you squeal at the quick movement. He chuckles and gazes at you, his dark hair spilling around him on the mattress. He pulls you back in for another kiss, this one passionate and sensual. His hands roam up over your sides and slide up your shirt, tickling the skin beneath, sending shivers down your spine.

          Those strong hands begin pulling off your shirt and you sit up, stopping him, "Well, someone's in a hurry!" His mouth falls open in surprise before he speaks, his eyes and voice stern, "Miss Y/n...I am not known for my patience." Your legs straddle him on either side of his body as he lies beneath you. You raise your brow and smirk down at him, "Well, perhaps it's something you ought to work on then."

          Before you know what's happening, you find yourself on your back and Snape is above you, his eyes intense but playful, your wrists pinned down over your head, "In a feisty mood, are we?" He holds both your wrists with one of his hands, and the sudden rush and his display of strength makes you tremble and his sharp eyes catch the movement, a smirk forming on his perfect lips.

          He leans down and kisses you softly, then a bit more deeply. His other hand comes to your hair, his fingers playing with and stroking it gently as he continues kissing you. He glides his hand down to the side of your face, softly brushing and holding it. His large fingers hold your face, his hand moving it according to his bidding. His thumb slides underneath your jaw then up to your chin and pulls down, opening your mouth to deepen his kiss.

          You moan in his mouth and you feel his chest rumble deeply in response. His grip on your face tightens slightly, and your hips begin squirming in excitement. His hand slides down and grasps your throat in a sensual movement, kissing and licking down it and you turn your head to expose more of it to him. His eyes hood and his breathing quickens at your show of submission, the way your body yields to his. His grasp on your neck tightens slightly as he holds you and kisses it slowly, deeply, biting it softly.

          He lifts up to look into your eyes and his dark, ravenous ones bore into them. "I believe...I have been patient enough," he hisses in a low but fervid voice. He releases your wrists and reaches down with that hand, caressing your body the whole way down to your hips and slips his finger beneath the hem of your shirt and lifts it, revealing your soft, bare skin. He slides his hand over your side, following the curve of your waist and coming up to just beneath your breast, holding you there. He looks down at you and his eyes glisten with primal desire, seeming to be aroused by the image of his hand on your neck, his other undressing you. You bite your lip in desire.