Be quiet
Her tongue –gods, she used it so well when they were arguing, or when she talked about things she knew, which was pretty much everything: but how could he know, how could he fathom, her tongue would also be so exceptionally good at bringing him to his knees– trailed up and down his almost painful erection. Slowly, patiently, so unlike her.
Hermione had never been a patient woman, in bed or otherwise; but tonight she was taking her time and Severus was quickly losing every ounce of sanity he had left. As she continued her assault on his flesh –her tongue swirling over the tip of his cock, licking eagerly at the first drops of his seed and causing his hands to clench hard on the arms of his chair as if that could help him from going mad, he weakly reminded himself that he should probably Occlude.
Lest he wanted Minerva to catch on the fact that, while she had come to the new Headmaster’s office for a professional talk, her own apprentice was knelt under his desk, sucking him with gusto, challenging him to be quiet unless he wanted everyone to know about their relationship.
“We need to discuss the permits for the student exchange with Beauxbatons, Severus,” Minerva said, and Severus barely heeded her; all he could think about was that Hermione was so close to the elderly witch that it was a wonder how she wasn’t found out. Then he registered the way Hermione was bobbing her head up and down; from his vantage point, Severus could see her curls moving along as she took him deep into her mouth, as far as possible.
How in the world Minerva didn’t hear her moaning? She must have set up a ward, clever witch. He couldn’t even bring himself to care at this point, so wholly consumed he was by the way she took him.
Her hand –silky, with long, red-lacquered nails, scratched languidly at the inside of his thigh, offering him the slight bite of pain he enjoyed on occasion.
“–we also need to meet the new assistant to the Minister, the one he appointed for all educational issues. Maybe host him here in Hogwarts–”
It was a sensible idea; one Severus would have approved if Hermione hadn’t just cupped him so firmly, so to his liking, that all coherent thought escaped him.
“Stop,” he said, his breathing ragged. “Please.”
“Pardon, Severus?” Minerva asked. “You look pale–well, pal-er. Is something the matter?”
“Please get out Minerva, I feel too–” Severus wheezed out, trying to keep his wits about him and not come in the presence of his best friend. “We’ll discuss this later.”
Oddly enough, she left without questioning him –perhaps sensing that he was feeling ill–, and that gave him just enough time to grip Hermione’s hair, holding her still as he came into her mouth with a ragged groan.