Theme/kink: Safe sex
Word Count: ~2600
Summary: Severus Snape is not a patient man.
Notes: Written for daily_deviant. This fic is AU as of the release of Book 7. Originally posted July 8, 2007. Please enjoy the porn, thanks.
Compliant to: HBP, though the plot predictably has nothing to do with anything, and can take point at any point in time. I'm flexible like that!
Disclaimer: The characters in this story are fictional adults. No infringement is intended, and none of the characters are mine. Please love me.
There was a reason, Severus mused as he hunched over his cauldron, why he so disliked fucking women.
The reason had nothing to do with the soft curves of their bodies in comparison with the men he liked, all angles and lines and steel and velvet. No, nothing to do with the plump lips of a woman, or the way her pale blonde eyelashes brushed against his skin, or the way a woman -- this woman, actually, more than any other -- made him feel as though he actually was worthy enough to run his work-roughened hands against her pristine skin.
Truthfully, the reason why he disliked it so much was because there was just so much work to do. It was so easy, with men. Women, he'd found, were ever so much more complicated.
Perhaps, he mused as he dropped a pinch of spice into the cauldron, it was just this particular woman who made his life complicated. Well within reason, of course, but still. He had enough complications in every other facet of his life that this was just wholly unnecessary.
Except for the fact that the results were just so worthwhile.
The potion took a week -- an entire bloody week -- to brew. That was exactly why he hated it. He'd heard there were better ways perfected by Muggles, ways that didn't take a whole week, ways that meant that he wouldn't spend every night rolling around sleeplessly in bed, thinking of her lips on his, her body wrapped around his, thinking of all the wicked things he could do to her, if only the potion didn't take a fucking week to finish.
He'd asked her, once, if they could try that.
"You know," he'd mused, catching her while she was distracted. Her cheek was pressed up against his thigh, blonde hair spilling over his leg and his stomach and his cock; she was a beautiful mess, strands of hair catching in her smudged red lipstick.
"Hm?" She looked up at him, a faint smile pulling at her lips.
"There's better ways of doing this, ways that don't mean waiting a week for a potion to brew." He reached down, brushing her hair off of her face. "There's a chemist down the way, there are supplies there that make it easier." A light blush crept across his cheeks; he could fuck her into the mattress for as long as the potion was effective, the filthiest words falling from his lips, but he could hardly even bring this up without feeling like a little boy rather than a man grown.
She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning into his hand. "Severus, Severus," she sighed, cracking one eye open to look at him. "Don't you think the anticipation is the best part?" She drew one finger up the inside of his thigh, a satisfied smile on her lips. "Knowing that you can have me whenever you want, wouldn't that get old? Do you not prefer having to wait, having all that tension build up before you can... release?" As she spoke, her fingers curled around his cock, stroking it back to life.
He groaned, hips involuntarily thrusting up into her grip. "Narcissa," he said through gritted teeth, "you are unbearably cruel."
She leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his hardening cock, and then sat up, carding through her hair with her fingers. "Besides," she added, gathering her hair at the nape of her neck, arms raised, her breasts shifting with her movement. "If you could have me whenever you wanted, then there would be no room for Lucius." She smiled, a devilish glint in her eyes. "And you know how horrible he is at sharing."
Narcissa shifted on the bed, crawling up to straddle Severus' hips, and he had the most awful time not taking her then and there, with the way she wiggled and squirmed and rubbed herself against him. "I don't think you're any better at sharing, Severus," she said, and he couldn't do anything but grunt out his agreement, because she was busy lowering herself down onto his cock, engulfing him in her. "We don't need silly Muggle remedies, Severus," Narcissa decided, sighing as she pressed her body down. He ran his fingers across her thighs lightly and watched her move atop him.
No, they didn't need any Muggle remedies. That was the end of that discussion.
Everything was done on Narcissa's terms. Everything. From their very first frantic coupling in a darkened classroom after curfew to their ongoing meetings years later when Lucius was otherwise occupied, it all happened when she wanted it. Severus didn't fancy himself at anyone's beck and call, not even for the Dark Lord, and yet whenever Narcissa said now, he was there.
She knew as well as he did how long it took the potion to brew; over the years, she timed it so that she would call for him just as he added the last ingredient to the potion. Narcissa had a lot invested in that potion: untraceable, undetectable, and so rare that no one -- not even a jealous husband -- would even consider it something to suspect. It worked perfectly, protecting her from the possibility of bearing a half-blood child, protecting her from anything else that might be lurking. (Not, of course, that she needed worry; Severus only had eyes for her, she'd made sure of that long ago.)
And so, just as he expected, as soon as he stirred the potion for the last time, a sleek black owl tapped at his window. Severus shook his wand at the window, which flew open, allowing the owl to enter. He resolutely ignored the bird, which settled on a shelf across the room. (The bird learned very quickly not to perch too near to Severus' cauldrons.) "Just give me another bloody minute," he grumbled, gathering a glass beaker to decant the potion into. The owl hooted, cocking its head as Severus gestured rudely at it.
He took his sweet time filling the beaker, making sure not to spill a drop. If things went wrong now, he'd have to wait another week.
When he was done, he slipped the beaker into a pocket in his robes and walked over to the owl. "Years of this routine, and you haven't learned to be patient yet," he muttered under his breath to the owl, opening a pouch tied to the owl's leg and slipping out a bent and rusted nail. He rolled the nail about in his palm before the portkey took effect; he felt a sick jerking in his gut, and when he opened his eyes, he was standing in the sitting room of Malfoy Manor.
Severus tossed the nail on an end table, watching with satisfaction as it clinked against some likely ancient heirloom. "Excellent timing as ever, Narcissa," he murmured, flicking his gaze up to where she lounged on a sofa, shrouded in shadow and the low light of the fireplace. She merely smiled at him, shifting to stretch her legs out on the couch. "Though your owl could use a bit more discipline; I'm fairly sure it was intent on eating my books." He slipped out of his cloak and outer robe, grabbing the beaker of still-warm potion before letting the garments pool on the floor. "Here," he said, passing it over to her. Their fingers brushed, and he held back a shiver. He hated waiting.
Narcissa clutched the potion between her hands, rolling it around before she uncorked it. "Cheers," she said, raising it to him in a mock salute before swallowing it in one swift gulp. Narcissa grimaced, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Can't you possibly make this taste any better?" she asked, setting the beaker aside.
"That would take an extra week," he said dryly as he toed out of his shoes, "and I don't have infinite patience, you know."
"I know," she said with a sigh, rising gracefully from the sofa. As she stood, her robe fell open and Severus felt his heart jump to his throat; she was so beautiful, every time, and he swore he'd never tire of her. "Go on, do your magic," she said, wagging her fingers at him.
"Of course," he murmured, voice low and rough with desire. Slowly, carefully, he reached out and drew her near, hands slipping under her robe, rough fingers clutching her and holding her fast to him as he burrowed his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the very scent of her.
"Now, please," she said, words catching in her throat as he pressed up against her, already hard cock straining through the thin fabric of his worn trousers.
"Of course," he repeated, and he shook his wand loose from its pocket in his shirtsleeve, sliding it down his arm to grip loosely in his hand. Severus held his wand up against her belly and she gasped; it always surprised her, the coolness of the wand mingling with the electric tingle of magic and the pulsing between her legs. He pressed his lips to hers and cast the spell that finalised the potion wordlessly, magic still written in every movement, in every lap of his tongue and nip of his teeth. Narcissa groaned, hips rolling up against Severus', and her hands clutched desperately at his waist.
"Now, please," she said again, the same thing she said every time she was ready, every time she felt the potion race through her veins, when she knew it was safe.
Severus didn't bother to respond, merely backed Narcissa up until her knees bumped against the sofa; he pushed her down gently, and she smiled up at him as she nestled herself against the cushions, robe slipping off of one beautiful shoulder.
"Let me see you," she said, and then she reached out, nimbly tearing at his belt and the zip of his trousers. Her fingers slipped underneath the fabric of his trousers and pants and she unceremoniously pushed them down over his hips. He stepped out of the garments and kicked them aside, and she sighed happily as she leaned forward and took his prick in her mouth without preamble or hesitation.
He groaned lowly, hips pushing forward to seek more, more, more. He was greedy, and undeserving, and he didn't care, not when she was fucking him with her mouth, her pretty lips wrapped around him and that wicked tongue teasing him. Narcissa hummed happily around his cock and he shivered, sinking his fingers into her hair and holding her fast. He would let her do this for an eternity, he thought, and he'd never get tired of it. At least it meant that he wouldn't have to brew that damned potion again.
Just as he started to feel himself get close, oh, so close, she pulled away, and he whined in frustration. "Oh, be quiet," she said, mock anger in her voice. "You know what I have for you is better than that." He still couldn't help but to screw up his face in frustration as drew away, rising from the sofa and going to lean up against the wall. Her robe slipped off of her arms and pooled at her feet; she kicked it aside, out of the way.
He groaned again, this time in anticipation. Severus couldn't help but to take his cock in his own hand, stroking hard as he looked at her, just looked at her in all her nude glory. "Oh, get over here," she said, angling her hips, inviting and practically begging for him to come and take what he wanted.
Severus didn't need to be told twice; he advanced on her quickly, planting both hands firmly on the wall, trapping her between his arms. "Mm," she murmured, turning her face up to gaze at him, "yes, here. Just like this." He kissed her, then, losing himself in the pull of her lips. He trailed kisses down her jaw, and then slowly stooped, kissing and biting at her nipples, her collarbone, her stomach, and oh, he dropped to his knees and buried his face between her legs, tongue wasting no time in exploring her, in tasting her and drinking her in.
"Yes," she groaned, head tipped back and eyelids fallen shut. "Oh, yes." Her fingers clutched at his hair, pushing him, holding him in place until she shuddered, a tiny little moan escaping her lips. "Now, now," she urged, pushing him away from her, "please, now."
Severus gladly obliged, allowing himself to be pulled to standing. He knew from experience that it didn't do to keep Narcissa waiting, but he also knew how wonderful it was to torment her, just a bit, just a small piece of retaliation for how long she would make him wait until he could take her and fuck her the way he'd wanted to do ever since he first realised that she would let him put his hands on her.
He reached between her legs, fingers deftly stroking her, spreading her open for him. "Do you want me?" he asked, staring intently at her even as he thrust two fingers inside of her. She squirmed, pushing down into his hand. "Do you?" He needed to hear it, needed to hear that beautiful, haughty pure-blooded Narcissa Malfoy wanted him. He twisted his fingers inside of her, stroking, angling, and a smile played across his face.
"I want you," she said, "now fuck me, before I make you wait another week."
Well, he wouldn't argue with that. He dropped his hand away from her, letting it fall to his cock, which he positioned between her legs. With a low growl, Narcissa reached down, batting Severus' hand away, and guided his cock inside of her, wasting no time in bearing down on him. He hissed lowly as she took him in, amazed for the thousandth time at how good it felt to be so surrounded by her. "Now, now, before it wears off," she said, grasping his arse in both hands and forcing him to move.
Severus leaned forward, forehead resting against her shoulder as he found his rhythm, hips pressing up to thrust inside of her. Everything about her was amazing: her full breasts in his hands; the way she whispered his name instead of her husband's; the way she relaxed with him, all pretences falling away.
He could already feel her closing in around him -- she was so close already, it didn't take much -- and he could feel his own orgasm nearing. It was so hard to hold on very long with her, not with the way she rolled her hips just so, not with the way ran her fingers down his torso and across his chest and everywhere, just trying to get that much closer to him.
"Now," she whispered, and he had no choice but to obey, thrusting into her with wild abandoned, senseless syllables falling from his lips as he spent himself in her. She cried out too, following him over the edge before slumping against the wall, a satisfied smile on her face as she rode out the last of her own orgasm.
Severus wrapped his arms around her, pressing soft kisses to the hollow of her throat, willing his heart to stop racing at the thrill of having her in his arms. Yes, maybe he did hate having to spend a week hunched over a cauldron when all he could think of was how good she would feel. Maybe he did hate all the work that he needed to do just to fuck her. But oh, when they stood there, oblivious to the wants of the rest of the world and belonging only to one another, then it was all worth it.