The wedding night
The wedding night
As if on cue, both Elizabeth and Snape fell silent again. Hesitantly, Snape shed off his outer robes. Elizabeth did the same. Then Snape took off his shoes, and – very slowly, as if he were afraid that they might bite him – started undoing the buttons of his shirt. Elizabeth regarded him for a while, and eventually came to the conclusion that this would just not do. She had always imagined her wedding night to be at least a tiny bit romantic. This was far from romantic. This was a disaster. Watching Snape suddenly stop unbuttoning his shirt in order to cast a furtive glance in her direction, it quickly dawned on her that if she still wanted to save the situation, she would promptly have to take the initiative. Not wasting any time, she kicked off her shoes and crawled across the bed towards Snape, who all but flinched when she came near him. Elizabeth sighed and, after giving Snape a long, thoughtful look, said, “Severus, this is getting ridiculous. We won’t get anywhere like this. Would you mind too much if I took matters into my own hands for a while? You just lie down and try to relax. Please,” she added forcefully, when Snape opened his mouth to protest.
As could be expected, it still took quite some time of staring into each other’s eyes before Snape finally decided that this was not the time to play hero, but once Elizabeth had won the battle of wills and her husband averted his gaze, it became quite easy to control him, and seconds later he could already be found obediently lying stretched out on the bed, somehow managing to look both nervous and expectant at the same time.
Elizabeth took a deep breath. ‘Here goes,’ she thought to herself, before leaning down and pulling Snape into a passionate kiss. Not counting the moment of surprise, he responded almost immediately, and while still continuing to kiss him feverishly, Elizabeth managed to unbutton the rest of his shirt and, after some minor help from Snape, pull it off. Having done so, however, she simply couldn’t help herself – she had to break the kiss and take a moment to examine Snape’s perfect (at least to her) body. It was pale, yes, and it could use a bit of fattening up, but otherwise it comprised just the right amount of muscles, and it-
“Is anything wrong, Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth guiltily tore her gaze away from Snape’s bare chest to look into its owner’s searching eyes, seeing as Snape had meanwhile lifted himself up on his elbows and was now regarding her somewhat anxiously, evidently tensed up again and thinking god-knows-what.
“No, of course not,” she quickly reassured him, giving him a comforting smile. “I was just wondering how come you’re in such great shape. All those muscles when, as far as I know, you don’t do any sort of sport...”
“The Dark Lord expected his Death Eaters to be in perfect physical condition,” Snape enlightened her glumly. “If I wished to keep my place by his side, naturally I could not disappoint him even in this aspect.”
“Yes, but you haven’t been with the Death Eaters for over two years now,” Elizabeth pointed out. “I simply can’t believe that you would’ve stayed so fit for such a long time while doing absolutely no exercise.”
“And who, may I ask, told you that I no longer do any exercise?” muttered Snape, obviously not too happy to part with this particular piece of information. After all, the idea of him doing morning exercises didn’t exactly fit in with his usual image of a person who didn’t give a damn about how they looked.
“No one,” admitted Elizabeth, doing her best not to giggle. “I just assumed ... oh, nothing. Old habits don’t die, I suppose... Now, where were we?” she quickly added, noticing Snape cast her an extremely dark look, which slowly vanished as the man found himself taking part in an even wilder version of the kiss that had taken place before. This time it was Snape’s trousers that eventually found their way onto the floor, as well as Elizabeth’s dress and stockings. Then Elizabeth took off her bra. Snape’s breath seemed to have got caught in his throat. Elizabeth smiled – she loved the way her husband was affected by her. She was rather starting to enjoy herself, actually. Becoming braver by the minute, she eventually left Snape’s mouth and started tracing kisses down his neck, while Snape, at first somewhat bewildered, closed his eyes and his breathing became ragged. Elizabeth, meanwhile, moved steadily downwards, stopping only to tease one of Snape’s nipples with her tongue, which caused Snape to grab the edge of the bed as if he were holding on for dear life, while giving his wife a look which comprised surprise, pleasure and disbelief. Elizabeth supposed he must have been wondering what had caused her to do such a strange (yet highly erotic) thing, especially if she claimed that she had had no previous experience, but hadn’t Jane told her to go by her instinct? Because that’s exactly what she had done, and the result was what it was. Furthermore, now that same instinct told her to let Snape get comfortable again, and then continue down, down ... until she finally reached the waistband of his Y-fronts.
‘Somebody’s going to get a nice pair of black boxers for Christmas,’ she thought to herself evilly, as she placed a kiss on the noticeably bulging piece of underwear. That was when Snape suddenly sat bolt upright and pushed her away.
“Enough, Elizabeth,” he choked out, breathing heavily. Then he noticed Elizabeth’s hurt look, and added, somewhat more calmly, “Unless you wish me to...” he paused, blushing slightly and obviously searching for the right words (and looking decidedly cute, in Elizabeth’s opinion) “...have an accident.”
Elizabeth’s gaze momentarily slid down to Snape’s crotch. “Well, we’d better hurry up, then, hadn’t we?” she suggested matter-of-factly.
Snape threw her an inquisitive look, as if to decide whether she really meant it, or whether she was just acting brave. “Are you certain?” he asked finally.
“Of course I’m certain,” retorted Elizabeth and, as if to demonstrate just how serious she was, she swiftly slipped off her knickers. In reality, however, she was feeling as nervous as hell, but Snape didn’t have to know that, did he? Better have it over and done with, after all, than unnecessarily prolong the torture.
If, besides a sharp intake of breath, Snape had been in any way affected by Elizabeth’s demonstrative act, he didn’t let it show, though he did do his best to look away as he shakily took off his own underwear. Elizabeth, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as prudish, examining her husband’s ‘equipment’ with unconcealed curiosity.
‘Not bad,’ she thought with satisfaction. ‘Not bad at all...’
She didn’t have the pleasure of contemplating Snape’s manhood for long, however, for Snape soon noticed what she was doing and decided to put an abrupt stop to it.
“Would you kindly cease staring at me in that ... scrutinizing manner?” he declared irritably, causing her to – once again – guiltily glance up. Only to catch Snape hastily avert his gaze from her own private parts.
“Look who’s talking,” she told him, with a wicked grin.
Snape had the decency to blush.
“Anyway, we really should get started,” continued Elizabeth, looking determined. “Is it OK if I just lie down on my back like this?” She promptly gave a demonstration, stretching out onto the bed and spreading her legs. “Or would you prefer a different position?”
From the look of him, Snape seemed happy with pretty much anything, and it didn’t take long before he resignedly kneeled down to perform his duty. Soon Elizabeth could feel something warm and hard make contact with her vagina, causing her to close her eyes and grit her teeth in anticipation of the upcoming pain. But none ever came. Instead, as soon as Snape had made an attempt to enter her, she experienced a shower of some warm liquid spatter her as far as the chest, after which she could feel Snape hastily withdraw from her.
She slowly opened her eyes. Snape was standing next to the bed, putting on his dressing gown.
Elizabeth eyed him in bewilderment. “Severus, there’s no need to-” she began. “Severus! Where are you going?!”
Completely ignoring her, Snape finished dressing and left the room without a single word. Elizabeth sat up and pulled the covers up to her chin. She felt like crying. What had she done to deserve this? Why did it all have to go so horribly wrong? On her wedding night, no less? Didn’t Snape understand that she would think no less of him after what had happened? He can’t be perfect all the time, after all. If he would only come back, she would tell him-
Her musings were cut short at this moment, because just then the man in question appeared in the doorway, carrying two towels, one of which he silently handed to her. She gratefully took it, wiped herself, and laid it down beside her, feeling it would be a good idea to keep it at hand. Snape, meanwhile, seated himself on the edge of the bed, playing with his own towel and looking completely crestfallen. Elizabeth figured that now the time had come to comfort him. Crawling up behind him, she gently put her arms around his neck, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. He didn’t react.
“Ssh, Elizabeth,” he cut her off before she could say another word. “I am perfectly aware of my failure. There is no need to rub it in.”
“But I don’t want to rub it in!” Elizabeth almost yelled in exasperation. “What is such a tiny mishap compared to the endless amount of opportunities we still have to improve? All we have to do is just try again.”
Snape spun around. “You would be willing to try again?” he asked, disbelief written all over his pale face.
“Why, of course I would,” said Elizabeth resolutely. “I don’t see any reason why I wouldn’t.”
Snape lowered his gaze, looking unusually sheepish. “I merely thought that perhaps our first attempt might have ... put you off,” he said quietly.
Elizabeth smirked. “Don’t be silly, Severus. So I got a bit sprayed with your sperm. Big deal. Now, let’s get started, shall we?”
Elizabeth’s firm approach seemed to work wonders with Snape, for it wasn’t long before he – albeit a little hesitantly – removed his dressing gown, draped it over the back of a chair together with his towel, and went to sit back down on the bed.
“OK, now lie down,” ordered Elizabeth.
Unfortunately, Snape had chosen that very moment to take head. “No, Elizabeth,” he stated stubbornly. “I have already had my share of pleasure. Now is the time that I did something for you.”
“But ... what good would that be?” asked Elizabeth desperately, regarding Snape in a you-can’t-be-serious way. “I mean, I really appreciate you caring about my well-being and all that, but aren’t you the one we’re currently trying to arouse?”
“I believe that ought to come as a side-effect,” said Snape, but he didn’t sound too sure.
Elizabeth, however, decided not to argue with him any longer, seeing as it was obvious that he had already made up his mind, and simply lay down on the bed, wondering what Snape would come up with. Not that she was given the time to wonder for long, as only a couple of seconds later her breathing was temporarily cut off as Snape virtually swooped down on her, capturing her mouth in a fervent kiss while his hands touched her here and there and his long hair tickled her neck. Elizabeth closed her eyes and moaned with pleasure. Oh gods, those hands! She should have guessed that, being a Potions master, he would know how to use them. No matter where he touched her, whether it was her palm, her forearm or something as innocent as her chin, he sent shivers up her spine. Not to mention when he reached her breasts... That was when her brain decided to definitely take a holiday, leaving her body to live purely for Snape’s arousing touches. It sure seemed that the man had, at long last, realized that he could do anything he liked with her, without needing to ask for permission every time. Which he most certainly didn’t do when he eventually moved down to her lower regions and began employing his long, sensual fingers there. Oh Christ, if he only knew what he was doing to her! If he didn’t stop soon, she would surely come right then and there.
But he did stop. “I ... would say we may take the next step now,” came his voice, as if from a distance, as he pulled away from her. “If you still want to.”
Her senses still clouded after the wild ride she had just undergone, Elizabeth had to let several seconds pass before she was finally able to process what Snape had just said. So they were actually going to do it. Fine. After what Snape had just put her through, she didn’t really care about anything any more. All she wanted was to feel him down there again. And so she gave her consent, and shivered with delight as she felt the already familiar hardness press against her, and eventually enter her.
At first it didn’t feel all that unpleasant – on the contrary. It was as if a million of Snape’s fingers were touching her at once, sending her into completely unknown realms of volupty. But as Snape penetrated deeper and deeper, the pleasure slowly turned into pain. And with each thrust, the pain increased, until it felt like somebody was twisting a knife as far as her stomach. Finally, when Snape had made a particularly vigorous movement, she simply couldn’t stand it any longer, and let out a cry of pain.
Instantly, Snape ceased what he was doing and, to her intense relief, pulled out of her. “Elizabeth! Elizabeth, are you all right?” he inquired frantically, his voice full of concern.
Elizabeth opened her eyes, which glistened with tears. “I’m fine,” she peeped.
“Did I hurt you?” insisted Snape softly. Elizabeth had never heard him sound so tender. It moved her, and the tears spilled from her eyes.
Snape, however, took that as proof of his suspicions. “Elizabeth, talk to me,” he urged, now sounding almost desperate. “I may not be an expert Healer, but I do know a spell-”
“No, no, I’m fine, really,” Elizabeth assured him, wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “It’s not unusual for it to hurt the first time. It just surprised me, that’s all. And look,” she added, noticing a small blood stain on the bed sheet, “the worst is behind us.”
Snape gave her a dubious look, as he took his wand from the bedside table and disposed of the blood stain with one wave. “Are you quite sure everything is all right?” he asked afterwards, obviously still not convinced that she was being entirely truthful with him.
“Yes, quite sure,” said Elizabeth firmly. “Now, why don’t we finish what we’ve started?”
Snape looked at her as if she had gone mad. “Absolutely not.”
Elizabeth sighed. They had got so far, and now Snape was going to back out? Well, too bad, she wouldn’t let him. Not after the ordeal she had just been through.
She fixed Snape with a deadly stare. “Why not?” she asked pointedly, unable to keep the trace of irritation out of her voice.
“I should think that rather obvious,” said Snape, pretending to ignore his wife’s disenchantment. “I absolutely refuse to consciously cause you any more pain.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “You won’t cause me any more pain,” she stated determinedly, as if the amount of pain she would experience depended purely on her decision. “I think it’ll be OK now. And even if it isn’t, let me remind you that we have to go through this sooner or later anyway, so why not just get it over and done with? It’s our wedding night, for god’s sake! It is kind of expected of us to have sex, whether you like it or not.”
“A very encouraging way of putting it, Elizabeth,” said Snape scathingly. “Forgive me, but I was under the impression that people generally make love for pleasure, not because they are forced to.”
Elizabeth looked as though she had been slapped. Come to think of it, she rather wished someone had actually slapped her. Stupid girl. Horrible girl! Only now did she realize how unbelievably idiotic she must have sounded, and she silently thanked Snape for making her see reason. But what should she say aloud? How to get out of this mess? Would an apology be any good? Well, the only way to find out was to try and see.
Dejectedly lifting her gaze, she forced herself to look into Snape’s eyes. “Yes, Severus, you are absolutely right,” she said quietly. “I’m so sorry, I should never have said ... you know...” She trailed off, her eyes suddenly full of tears.
Snape said nothing. His expression was stony.
In her current state, Elizabeth found that it was more than she could bear. “I ... I think I will just go to bed,” she choked out, and made an attempt to untangle herself from the blankets.
To her endless surprise, Snape caught her by the wrist. “Your bed is here, Elizabeth,” he said softly.
Elizabeth froze, then slowly turned to look at him. “You ... want me to stay?” she asked disbelievingly.
Snape made a non-committal gesture. “Well, I did not ask Marvin to prepare the guest bedroom, and I doubt he would be too pleased to be disturbed in the middle of the night. So I believe you will have to stay, whether you like it or not.”
Despite the tears still glittering in her eyes, Elizabeth had to laugh. What a revenge, to use her own words against her. Not even bothering to wipe her eyes, she leaned over and pulled Snape into a hug. “Thank you, Severus,” she whispered.
Snape looked slightly uncomprehending. “You are welcome, though I am not quite sure what you are thanking me for.”
Bastard. Elizabeth was certain that he knew only too well why she was thanking him, and that the only reason why he had asked about it was because he wanted to have the pleasure of hearing her say it. Then his revenge would be complete. But ... why not. If it would make him happy...
She gave him a fond look. "For being so forgiving. And reasonable. And ... if there was only something I could do for you in return...”
Her tone was probably a little too suggestive as she said it, for Snape instantly drew away from her and fixed her with an accusing gaze. “Do you really think me so naïve, Elizabeth?” he asked flatly. “Do you really believe I cannot tell where you are heading?”
Elizabeth blushed. “Well, it was you who started it,” she muttered. “When you said I could stay here, I thought you meant ... I thought you suggested...”
“I did,” said Snape, looking as though he was having a hard time suppressing a smile.
Elizabeth glared at him for a while, then shook her head in amusement. The rotter! So he had only been teasing her! Well, fair enough, but now he’d better get ready for payback time. Or did he really expect that she would just let it slide?
Looking up at him, she arranged her lips into a malicious smile. “You did?” she drawled. “Well, in that case you had better lie down, because, unless I’m greatly mistaken, it is now your turn to be happy.”
Noting her smile, which now looked positively evil, Snape grew slightly uneasy. “I ... yes, but naturally you don’t have to...”
“No, no, it’s quite all right,” Elizabeth assured him. “Just lie down and don’t worry about a thing.”
Snape obviously thought that this was exactly the time when he should start worrying, but he sank down into the pillows none the less, eyeing his wife with apprehension.
Elizabeth endowed him with one last wicked smile for good measure, before plunging straight between his legs and starting to kiss everything she could find there. If Snape’s forte were his hands, then she could pride herself in being quite skilful with her mouth.
The result of her efforts was immediate, not to mention most satisfying – Snape reflexively dug his fingernails into the sheets, shut his eyes tight, and his breathing grew heavy and uneven, as if he had just run a marathon. Elizabeth absolutely loved seeing him look so extremely vulnerable, and when, after touching a particularly sensitive spot with her tongue, she even forced a delighted moan out of him, she was on top of the world.
Not long afterwards, however, Snape was already sufficiently aroused, and so Elizabeth decided to stop what she was doing before Snape would stop her himself ... or before it was too late.
Drawing away, she amusedly watched on as Snape slowly let go of the sheets and dazedly opened his eyes. His breathing was still rather quick and he seemed to be shaking.
“Are you OK?” Elizabeth asked him concernedly, seeing as he didn’t look as though he would try to get up any time soon.
He fixed her with an unsteady gaze. “Y-es,” he said weakly. “It is only that ... if you had any idea what you just did to me...”
Elizabeth smiled. If only people knew how little it took to excite Severus Snape, he would completely lose his respect in class. Finding this thought rather funny and fearing that it would make her laugh if she didn’t banish it soon enough, she quickly forced it out of her mind, and settled instead for giving Snape a sympathetic look. “I think I can imagine,” she told him, remembering his wonderful hands. “Now, do you reckon you can get up by yourself, or do you want me to help you?”
“I believe I will manage, thank you,” said Snape, a little uncertainly, and shakily pushed himself into a sitting position. Elizabeth, meanwhile, for the third time that night, lay down and spread her legs.
“Now, before we begin, I shall ask you to promise me something,” said Snape gravely as he settled himself between Elizabeth’s thighs. The girl sighed; she knew only too well what was coming. And, sure enough... “You must promise to immediately tell me if I hurt you in any way, do you understand?”
Elizabeth nodded, notelessly sticking both of her hands under the covers and crossing her fingers. “OK, I promise.” Anything to make Snape happy ... and to get her own way at the same time.
Snape gave her a slightly suspicious look, probably finding the fact that she didn’t put up a bigger fight somewhat odd, but a promise was a promise, and besides that there was nothing more he could do. And so, with a resigned expression, he eventually set to work.
Elizabeth shut her eyes, expecting the pain from earlier to come back any second. Unfortunately, she wasn’t disappointed in her expectations, though she did have to admit that it didn’t hurt nearly as much as before. And so she bravely bore it, taking care not to give Snape any sign of what she was going through lest he should decide to stop once more, after which there would most likely be absolutely no hope of getting him to continue ever again. To her pleasant surprise, however, the pain didn’t last long; eventually it started to recede, and after some time it was replaced merely by a sort of numbness, which she could scarcely feel owing to the fact that there were now other, more pressing feelings taking possession of her. Oh god, how could she ever have thought that there could be nothing better than Snape simply touching her in the right way? For what he was doing now was a thousand, no, a million times better; it was as if her vagina was on fire, sending little flames and sparks of pleasure into all the other parts of her body. And still she wanted more, she wanted Snape to delve even deeper, as far as he could possibly go, and so, without really intending to, she started moving with him, quickly harmonizing her movements with his, helping him as much as she could, her hot breath and sighs mingling with his, until, at last, she could feel something warm spill inside her, sending her over the brink of ecstasy. But, obviously aware that Elizabeth hadn’t come yet, Snape didn’t stop then; he kept going until Elizabeth thought she would faint with pleasure, but no, instead she experienced a sudden feeling as if something inside her had exploded ... for a moment she had white spots before her eyes, her mind swam, her body felt weak ... and then all she knew was that it seemed as though every single one of her cells had decided to cause her delight at the same time, making her feel so good that it was almost unbearable.
Noticing Elizabeth’s body arch as if it had received an electric shock and then suddenly go limp, Snape sensed that it was all over, and he gently withdrew from her. Sweaty and breathless, they both collapsed onto the bed, not even able to think straight, let alone talk.
It was Elizabeth who managed to recover her voice first. “Severus Snape, I love you,” she croaked, gazing at her husband in a slightly defocused way.
Snape raised an eyebrow. “Am I to take that as a token of appreciation for what we have just done, or does that particular statement apply in general?”
Elizabeth grinned at him. “Both.”
“I am glad to hear that.”
Unable to think of anything more to say, Elizabeth remained silent for a while, playing with Snape’s hair, before suddenly lifting her head from the pillow, as if struck by a sudden idea, and asking, “So ... can we do it again?”
Snape looked as though he was having trouble believing his ears. “I beg your pardon?”
“I asked whether we could do it again,” repeated Elizabeth, loudly and clearly, so as to make sure that Snape would definitely hear her.
Snape, however, still looked slightly uncomprehending. “Haven’t you had enough for one night?” he inquired incredulously.
“Can you ever have enough of something so pleasant?” returned Elizabeth with a smirk. “But no, seriously, could we do it just once more? Please, please, please? Then we will go to sleep, I promise.”
Snape didn’t answer immediately; instead he contemplated her for quite some time, obviously weighing all the pros the cons of her suggestion, but then the cons must have suffered a bitter defeat in his mind, because he eventually gave a resigned shake of the head. “One day, you will be the death of me, Elizabeth,” he stated with a wry smile.
“Maybe, but until that day comes, we are going to make the most of our life together,” said Elizabeth determinedly. “And don’t worry, now I’m not talking just about sex,“ she added amusedly, noticing Snape cast her a bewildered glance.
Snape looked noticeably relieved.THE END
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