Your heart thumps in response and you inch your fingers down to your middle. His watchful eyes observing your movements, you slip your finger between your folds, finding your sweet spot. The image of his towering figure, the movement of the muscles beneath his arm as it moves up and down over his raging shaft has you delirious. His breathing intensifies as he watches you gasp in pleasure, bringing yourself closer and closer to the brink. His lips part as he watches your fingers, glistening with arousal, move more quickly against your clit. You breathlessly gasp, "May I come, sir?"
"You may not." You whimper in ache, the torment of denial darkening your vision. He reminds you, "Bad girls may come only when they've learned to obey..." You tremble at his words, conflicted at the urge to send yourself over the edge and the urge to obey him. Your movements slow as you cool down, pulling back from the edge.
"That's my good girl..." he drawls. He steps closer and straddles you on the chaise, his long legs on either side. He gently moves your body and slips beside you, both laying on your sides. His underneath hand reaches around and cups your breast while his other lifts your top leg. He slips inside you once again, pulling you down onto his manhood and you gasp out in hungry pleasure. He begins slowly thrusting into you, your ass grinding against his midsection. "You've been so distracted from your schoolwork..." He picks up the pace, "I've seen the way you squirm when I'm watching you in class. The way you rock your hips when I scold you..." His thrusts become harder and deeper, you feel his heart pounding against your back as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder. His hand slides up and grasps your neck, squeezing lightly. "We're going to have to teach you how to pay attention." You feel the pleasure overwhelming you, you moan, "Please, Professor, I–I'm.."
"Do not. Come. Until I say so..." he snarls, his grip on your neck tightening. You clench your legs, trying to divert your blood flow elsewhere to stop your mounting orgasm. "Not yet..." he utters heavily in your ear. You let out a desperate sob, your body begging for release. He cups your breast with his other hand, squeezing your nipple between his fingertips. "I want to hear my name on your tongue again..." he growls lustfully.
"S...Severus..." you whisper. "Louder," he demands. You let loose, your voice echoing in the dungeon, "Oh, Severus! Fuck..." He growls carnally and it reverberates through you.
"Now be my good girl and come for me," he orders.
You immediately obey, your body and mouth screaming in pleasure as he thrusts into you, slipping in and out. You fall deeply into your orgasm, your vision going dark and your insides convulsing in waves of ecstasy. Hearing your moans and screams, he growls a low, guttural growl and quickens his pace. He reaches his own pleasure as he empties himself inside you, waves of his hot cum filling your core.
You both try to catch your breath as your bodies come down from the flood of endorphins and you feel him slowly slip out of you. You nearly go limp in exhaustion. You suddenly feel his strong arms lifting you and you stare up at his regal profile and strong jaw, admiring him and trembling from the expenditure of the events that took place. He carries you through the door from his office into what you assume must be his private quarters.
He takes you to his bath, the water drawn and warm, lowering you gently into it. He gazes into your drowsy eyes, brushing your messy hair from your face, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. He joins you in the tub and pulls you into him, your back to his chest. He gently soaps your body as you lie almost limp in his arms. "Is it too much for you?" He asks softly. "No, Professor..." He chuckles at your sleepy response. He rinses you and lifts you from the tub, wrapping you in a large towel and carries you to his bed. "Am I to sleep here?" You try to jostle yourself out of your half-asleep state. Snape gently sets you on his bed.
"You are." "But what will the girls in my dorm say when I don't return tonight?" He leans against the headboard, his dark locks framing his perfect face, "Do you remember how we learned about forgetfulness potions, spells, and false memory charms in class this week?"
"...Professor, are you allowed–"
"You will stay here tonight." he says curtly. "I am not finished with you yet." Your eyes grow large at the realization. "After all, you said it wasn't too much for you," he shrugs cheekily.