Author: Eriador117
Website:http://eriador117.insanejournal.com
Email:annette.gisby@which.net
Permission：
Yes, you can have permission to repost the stories on your board if you want. :)
take care,
Annette
(Eriador117)
Title: Possessed 1/1
Author: Eriador117/Annette
Rated NC-17
Harry/Snape
First time, angst, light D/s, rimming
Harry's in love. Snape's in lust. Or is he?
Written for the Detention Snarry ficathon for Amanda Saitou.
Elements required: Voldemort gone, Harry's seventh year, first time romance.
JK Rowling owsn the Potterverse, I just play in it from time to time.
Possessed
Harry Potter was in Trouble with the Potions master again. Not your ordinary kind of trouble but big Trouble with a capital T. He hadn't fouled up a potion. He hadn't been talking to his friends when he was supposed to be listening to Snape's lecture. He hadn't been fighting with the Slytherins.
No, what Harry had done was worse. Much, much worse. Snape glanced at the rolls of parchment in his hands, his dark eyes raking over Harry like he was a slave at an auction block and it seemed as though he didn't like what he saw. His lips curled into an all too familiar sneer. "Potter, see me after class."
"Yes, sir," Harry squeaked, feeling choked. He was more terrified of what Snape would do to him than when he'd faced Voldemort and finally defeated him. Harry gripped his desk so hard his knuckles were white. Snape would kill him, slowly and painfully, but not before using some imaginative forms of torture on him first. He was a goner.
"Harry, what did you give Snape?" whispered Hermione, but her voice echoed in the dungeons, so that the rest of the advanced Potions class turned to stare at them.
"Just my homework," he whispered back and wondered to himself if it was even a lie. For the parchment Harry had handed to his professor, did indeed contain his homework. However, it also contained something else, something he'd written on the very last page. A page he hadn't meant anyone else to see, least of all Snape. Now Snape had read it and was going to want to Talk About It.
Harry wished fervently that the dungeon floor would open up and swallow him, but his wishes had never come true before, why did he expect them to start now?
When the bell rang and the rest of the class filed out, Harry gathered up his books, stuffing them haphazardly in his satchel and marched to Snape's desk, feeling as if he was going to his own execution. His heart was fluttering against his ribs like a bird seeking escape from a cage. Harry stood, the strap of his satchel digging into his shoulder, and waited for the blow to fall. Nothing happened.
Snape was sitting at his desk, calmly marking papers, not even acknowledging Harry. He dipped his quill in the ink jar again and scrawled words Harry couldn't make out across someone's essay.
Was the man going to keep Harry standing here all through lunch? Was that Harry's punishment? To be ignored? When being ignored was the last thing Harry wanted from the man. For even when Snape berated him, laughed at his ineptitude, took points from him, Harry was happy. Happy that the man was paying attention to him of any sort.
He wanted that attention. He craved it. He needed it.
In his dreams and fantasies, there was never silence like this. There were short, sharp breaths, pleas, moans and groans, but never silence. Never silence.
What seemed an eternity later, Snape finally glanced up and Harry was sucked into deep whirlpools of obsidian. He was drowning, but he didn't want to be saved. His breath was becoming more and more erratic the longer Snape stared at him, but Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from the man.
"Mr. Potter," drawled Snape and Harry's groin tightened. He waved a piece of parchment in the air. "What is this?"
"It's a poem, sir," replied Harry. Oh, God, why did his voice sound so shaky?
"I can see that it is a poem, Mr. Potter. My question is why it was attached to your Potion homework? I was not aware that poetry was a required element in a burn salve, or do you know something the rest of us don't, Potter?"
"No, sir. It was a mistake."
"A mistake? So I take it you didn't mean to write this drivel?"
Harry swallowed and stared at the floor. Of course it was a mistake. He should have known. Should have known that Snape would never see past his father or the scar on his forehead. Harry meant less than nothing to the man in front of him. Why should Harry care so much? It wasn't as if he expected the man to get down on bended knee and confess his undying love for the Boy Who Lived. Harry's heart ached that he would never get to hear anything like that from Snape, not matter how much he wanted it.
Why did it hurt so much that the man had belittled his words, when Harry had known all along how Snape was?
"I hope she appreciates it," muttered Snape, still holding the poem.
"What?"
"The girl you wrote the poem to. From what I gather, I hear they are quite fond of it as a means of expression."
"I didn't - I'm not - there's no girl. I'm gay," Harry blurted out, feeling a blush stain his cheeks and earning him a raised eyebrow from Snape.
"Indeed? I fail to see how that is any concern of mine." Snape turned to his essays once more.
"Are you completely dense or do you have to work at it to get so stupid?" demanded Harry, wondering where his anger came from. He was still scared of what Snape might do to him, but he was angrier still. "I wrote that poem to you, you idiot!"
"How dare you raise your voice to a teacher, Potter! What did you say?"
"You heard me."
"I heard you, Potter. I'm just not quite sure I understand you. Is this some foolish Gryffindor prank? Make fun of the greasy git, is that it?"
"No, it's not," sighed Harry, his anger gone as quickly as it had come.
"What is it then? I'd like an explanation."
"What do you think it is?" asked Harry.
"Get out, Potter."
"What?"
"Do you not understand plain English, Potter? Remove yourself from my classroom immediately before I give you a detention."
"But sir-"
"Out!" barked Snape and Harry hurried to obey. It was only as he reached the door he realised that Snape still had his poem.
***
Snape downed another swallow of firewhiskey, the poem crumpled in his other hand from many reads. Potter had dared... Potter had dared to write of what he was feeling. Of what he was feeling for the Potions master and Snape did not know how he should react. This had never happened to him before. A student had never approached him, had never had a crush on him before and he did not know how to handle it. This was much worse than spying on Voldemort, than the last battle of the war.
He was worried, more than worried, because ever since he'd been training Potter in duels and Occlumency so that he would be ready to finally face Voldemort, Snape had not been thinking of him as a student. He was thinking of him as a very brave, very desirable young man and the poem had almost been enough to break his resolve.
For when he found out that Potter had written it to him, he knew how he wanted to react. He wanted to crush Harry's body to his desk and ravish him there and then. He shuddered to think what might have happened if Harry hadn't left when he did. Snape's control was slipping the more he saw the boy and he was just glad he hadn't given Harry a detention after all. No telling what he might have allowed himself then. Snape was lusting after a student. Not just any student, but Harry bloody Potter! Oh, the fates were amusing themselves at his expense, of that he had no doubt.
Snape smoothed out the parchment and read the poem again, just to see the curves of Harry's penmanship, for he knew the words off by heart now, he'd read it so many times.
I want to caress you,
I want to possess you,
I never want to let you go.
I want to touch you,
I want to crush you,
I never want to let you go.
I want to hear you crying next to me,
I want to feel you dying next to me,
I never want to let you go.
He'd called it drivel, but that wasn't what he thought at all. It was as if Harry could see right down inside him, see into his very soul, his very essence. Snape was afraid that if he looked at the floor, he would see it there, laid bare for everyone to see. He couldn't allow that.
He stared at the dregs of his whiskey, not feeling like drinking anymore of it. Snape threw the glass at the fireplace, enjoying the sound of glass shattering against the stones. He heard a gasp from somewhere behind him; he turned but he couldn't see anyone. As if anyone could get past his wards anyway. No, he was probably just tired and a little drunk. Bed and sleep would be the best thing for him and who knew? He might even dream of green eyes and messy hair.
Snape took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, used the toilet, donned one of his grey nightshirts and climbed into bed. Just as he was drifting off to sleep, he felt a light touch on his cheek. His eyes opened immediately, instincts honed from many years of spying. There was someone in the room with him, although he couldn't see them. Harry's invisibility cloak had been destroyed during the war and then Snape remembered the very thing he had taught Harry, the reason the Dark Lord was defeated. Invisibility potion.
"Potter, show yourself!" he commanded. He saw a bottle materialise out of thin air and the sounds of drinking before Harry came into sight, kneeling on Snape's bed. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of over large pyjamas, Snape could see the outline of one pale shoulder as the top of it slipped from Harry's body. "What is the meaning of this? Sneaking into a professor's private chambers, Potter? Have you no sense, boy?"
"Obviously not. Not if I'm in love with you."
Love? Harry fancied himself in love with him? In love with a Death Eater? At Harry's age, love and lust could be easily confused, as Snape knew to his cost.
"What do you think you were doing?"
"I don't know, sir. I just wanted..." Harry's voice trailed off, a blush staining his cheeks crimson. Harry's tongue emerged to sweep over his lips and Snape totally lost control. He'd already been hard from his shower, but had intended on indulging himself in bed. He pounced on Harry, toppling the young man to the bed and used all his weight to pin Harry beneath him.
"Is this what you wanted?" he hissed in his ear, grinding his erection into Harry's groin. Harry was of age, but he was still Snape's student, still forbidden. Snape had always been attracted to the forbidden and he knew he was lost.
***
"I - I didn't come here for this," said Harry, feeling all the blood in his body pool in one place that thickened and hardened against the man above him. He wriggled and moaned as pleasure shot through his whole body.
"No? You didn't come here tonight to plan a seduction?"
Harry shook his head. He wouldn't even know where to start with planning anything. He'd never gone beyond thoughts of the man kissing him, or maybe touching him with his hands, it had never even entered his mind that he might enjoy being pinned to the mattress with the weight of Snape crushing him to the bed.
"No? So what did you come here for, Potter?"
"I - I just wanted to see you, to touch you," Harry whispered.
"And then what? You thought maybe we'd go on picnics or moonlight walks by the lake? That we'd write poetry to each other? That we'd wander in the Forbidden Forest with wildflowers in our hair? Did you think those things, Potter? I am not a knight on a white horse and you are not a maiden awaiting rescue. If you came here tonight, you came here for one thing only, Potter. A good old-fashioned fuck. And just maybe, just maybe I'll oblige you."
Snape thrust his hips against Harry's once more, staring into Harry's eyes.
Harry didn't know where the rage came from, but Snape's words were like salt on an already opened wound and he slapped the man hard across the face. He wanted more from Snape than fucking. He raised his hand to do it again, but Snape was quicker and caught both of Harry's hands in his. "Oh, so the hero likes to play rough, does he?" sneered Snape, pressing Harry's hands to the pillow above his head. "How rough do you like it, Potter? Whips? Chains? A good smack on the arse, eh?"
Harry struggled in the man's grip wondering what on earth he'd got himself into. Whips? Chains? He'd never even had sex before, never mind anything else. Would Snape know? Would Snape somehow sense it? Should he tell him before things went too far? But how far was too far? For Harry couldn't deny the desire coursing through him at Snape's words. He hadn't known it was something he wanted until Snape spoke of it.
"Maybe you weren't thinking of moonlit walks, Potter. Did you sit in class wondering what it would be like if I bent you over one of the desks and rammed my cock so far into your arse you'd feel it in your throat?" Snape bent down and licked Harry's throat. Harry moaned and bucked his hips, seeking friction. He was so hard it hurt and Snape's words weren't doing anything to diminish his arousal. "Or maybe," another lick to his throat and Harry wailed at the sensations the man was causing throughout his body. "You'd prefer to be taken against a wall, your knees buckling, my arms the only thing holding you up. Or would you prefer to be chained to the bed, on your hands and knees while I fuck you so hard you'll not be able to sit down for week. So what's it to be, Potter?"
"Oh, God," groaned Harry. "Please, sir, anything! Do anything you want!" Snape blinked and looked down at him, as if surprised to find Harry there. Snape released his hands and rolled off him, sitting up on the bed.
"Get out, Potter," he hissed. "You're nothing more than a child trying to play a game he doesn't know the rules for."
Confused and aroused beyond endurance, Harry didn't obey the order. The man couldn't just make him feel like that and then chuck him out!
"Then teach me," insisted Harry firmly. He didn't want to go, but then Harry remembered one of the twins' magazines. "Teach me, master." Harry knelt on the bed and lowered his head. He held his breath, waiting for the tirade to start again, for Snape to bodily throw him out on his ear for his audacity. What seemed an eternity later, Snape tugged his head up and looked into Harry's eyes, black seeking green until it seemed that Harry saw his own eyes reflected in Snape's.
"Do you know what you are offering me, Harry?"
Harry gasped, arousal spiking through him anew on hearing his given name on the man's lips.
"No, sir, but I want to learn. I want to learn how to make you happy."
"You want to learn to be my pet, to be my slave? Is that what you want, Harry?"
"God, yes!" moaned Harry, surprised at his own vehemence.
Snape swooped down on him and claimed Harry's mouth in a bruising kiss. It was so unlike any kiss had ever received before. He could feel chapped lips against his own, the bristle of Snape's beard against his cheeks, it felt like sandpaper across his skin and he groaned, trying to arch his body to get closer to Snape. The man was brutal, gripping Harry's hair in his hand, as if afraid Harry would try to run away from him. Harry wasn't going anywhere and he kept kissing, kept licking until he felt his cock harden even further and the delicious ache low down in his belly that indicated he was going to come soon.
Snape pressed his thigh between Harry's legs, still kissing him, circling his thigh around Harry's cock and Harry knew he wouldn't last much longer. He pulled his head away from Snape's. "Stop! Please - I'm going to-" but it was too late, Harry's whole body shuddered as the orgasm ripped through him, as he pulsed again and again against Snape's leg, he gripped the man's waist for support his knees buckling beneath him. His pyjamas were sticky and he looked up at the man's face, expecting censure for being such a child that he'd come almost as soon as the man had touched him.
Snape was smiling at him, not a sneer, a genuine honest to goodness smile.
"You do know, Harry, that it is not good etiquette for a pet to come before his master?"
"No, master, I didn't know. Are you - are you going to punish me?" The idea sent a thrill through him.
"Not tonight, but if it happens again, I will have to."
Again? There was going to be an again?
"That is if you want to continue to be my pet. If you want to say no, I suggest you say it now. If we continue with this, I want you to choose a safeword, something you normally wouldn't say in the throes of passion. If I do anything you dislike, say the safeword and I will stop."
"Will I need a safeword?" For Harry couldn't imagine the man doing anything to really hurt him, but then realised that he had no idea how this situation actually worked. He'd never done it before, but he guessed that Snape had, he seemed to know what he was talking about.
"If you want to belong to me, you will. Be very careful of what you want, Harry. If you agree to be mine, be assured that I don't take kindly to sharing my possessions. Ever."
Harry nodded, his heart pounding in his ears. He would belong to Snape. He wanted that so much, to belong.
"I want you to be my master," he whispered. "My word is 'Quidditch'"
"How predictable," muttered Snape, but he was still smiling and reached out to pet Harry's hair. "But it suits you. Well, are you going to be wearing those ridiculous pyjamas all night? Strip!"
"Yes, master," said Harry and struggled to remove them while still kneeling on the bed.
***
Snape could not believe that he had Harry Potter in his bed. Harry Potter, about to be naked in his bed. Harry's renewed erection was tenting the front of Harry's pyjama bottoms, he hadn't taken long to get aroused again after coming. Oh, to be seventeen again.
Snape watched as Harry fumbled with buttons, his hands shaking, but Snape didn't think it was from fear. Who knew that the boy would be so eager to give control over to someone else? To have Harry obey him was a heady thought.
Once he was naked, Harry glanced up at him, eyes wide and eyelashes fluttering. "What do you want me to do, master?" he asked in a soft whisper, almost as if he was on the verge of tears and Snape felt his breath hitch. What had he been thinking? Lust must have clouded his brain. Harry was nowhere near ready for what Snape was offering.
"Harry," Snape reached over and tugged Harry down onto the bed so that Harry was lying beside him. "You don't really want to do this tonight, do you?"
"I just - I just want to be with you." Snape could feel Harry's body shaking, as though he was crying and trying to hide it.
"Even if it means doing something you don't want to?" For Snape would not force him into the role if Harry truly didn't want it.
"Please, I'll let you, I will."
"Harry, please tell me the truth. What is going on in that head of yours, hmm? Are you afraid to say no to me, to this?"
"Yes," the word was a bare breath against his chest.
"Harry," Snape tilted his chin up. "Look at me. Why would you agree to something like this if you don't want it?"
"Because I want to be with you. If I don't do it - you - you'll send me away."
Snape felt a blow to his insides, he felt no better than a rapist. Harry thought the only way to be with him was to do whatever Snape wanted, with no thoughts to his own feelings at all? Had Harry no idea of his own worth, that the idea of being a pet was something that he had to want to do, not feel forced into it? Snape had known people among the Death Eaters, who had claimed prisoners as their pets and they had been forced to service, but Snape had never done that and he had no intention of starting now.
"Harry, I think you should go back to your dorm," said Snape, stroking Harry's hair and feeling a strange sensation in his heart.
"No, sir, please! Let me stay! I'll do anything, I promise!" He was sobbing frantically now and Snape knew that Harry had taken his words for a rejection. Merlin, how did he let himself get into these messes?
"Ssh, Harry. It's all right. I only want you to go tonight, I want you to come back tomorrow evening, when we're both not so strung out and we can discuss some things."
"You want me to come back?" The hope in Harry's voice almost broke Snape's heart, an organ that he wasn't even sure he'd possessed any longer until tonight.
"Come back tomorrow," said Snape kissing Harry's forehead, wishing that the boy could stay in his rooms all night. Something he'd never wished with any of his other lovers.
***
Harry sat perched on the edge of Snape's sofa, a glass of pumpkin juice shaking in his hands. Neither of them had spoken yet besides a short greeting when Harry had arrived. Snape paced the room, walking up and down in front of the fireplace.
Harry watched him, feeling very nervous. He knew that he was in love with the man, but wasn't at all sure how Snape felt about him. He was afraid that if he didn't submit to Snape's wishes, that he would have no chance with the man at all and he so wanted that chance, even if it meant doing things he wasn't sure he wanted.
"Harry, do you know why I sent you away last night?" asked Snape finally.
"Be - because I wouldn't do what you wanted?" Harry ventured.
"Oh, Harry, you really don't understand at all, do you?" Snape knelt down in front of him and pushed Harry's hair away from his forehead, exposing the scar that was the only reminder left of Voldemort. Snape traced the shape of it with his fingers, looking deep into Harry's eyes. Harry swallowed and tried to return the gaze. The man was so intense and Harry had to look away. "That wasn't the reason, Harry. It was because you told me that you would do anything to stay with me. I don't want you to do anything just for me, Harry. Being submissive, being a pet is not a about doing anything. You need to have limits and I need to respect them, that's why there is a safeword. But you don't know what your limits are, do you, Harry?" .
Harry shook his head, feeling silent tears trickle underneath his glasses. He felt like a child, that he didn't know these things, hadn't known of them before.
"Why didn't you tell me you were a virgin, Harry?" Snape smoothed the tears away and Harry couldn't look at him, he closed his eyes, squeezing out more moisture from the lids.
"I - I didn't think you'd want me if you knew I was a virgin. Because I wouldn't know what to do."
"Would you like me to teach you, Harry? To teach you how to make love?"
Harry opened his eyes in surprise, the man had said 'make love'. "Would you - would you do that for me?" he choked out.
"I don't know how it is done in the Muggle world, Harry, but in the Wizarding world offering your virginity is considered a great honour. You would be doing me a great honour to allow me to make love to you. It will not be an onerous task for me, I assure you."
"I'd like that," whispered Harry, wanting to have at least one night with Snape. He knew it would probably only be a one time thing, but Harry was resigned to the fact that although Snape might desire him, his body, he wasn't in love with him. Harry could settle for one night, couldn't he?
"Good, I think we might be more comfortable in the bedroom, all right, Harry?"
Harry nodded, too nervous to speak. Oh, God, they were really going to do this. Snape was going to make love to him, take his virginity. Harry stumbled as he stood up and followed Snape to the room where all this had started the night before.
His eyes moved to the bed, then back to Snape. Harry swallowed.
"Don't worry, Harry. I'm not going to hurt you, not unless you want me to," he added with a grin, baring yellowed teeth. "Tonight is for you, we can do whatever you want. What do you want to do?"
"I - I don't know what I want," he gasped out. God, he felt like such an idiot.
"Well, what have you done before? What did you like?"
"Just kissing," said Harry, blushing.
"Only kissing?" asked Snape, sounding very amused. "You never touched anyone or had them touch you?"
"I accidentally touched a girl's breast once."
Snape chuckled. "How do you accidentally touch a girl there?" Tears of mirth were streaming down the man's face.
"I tripped," said Harry indignantly. "I had my hands out when I was about to fall and she just happened to be in the way. She wasn't very pleased with me."
"Did you like touching her? What did it feel like?"
"Soft," said Harry. "Too soft, too different. It didn't turn me on."
"What does turn you on?" Snape whispered in his ear. "What do you think of when you touch yourself? What do you think of when you want to come? What pushes you over the edge, Harry?"
"Oh, God," moaned Harry, feeling his knees buckle. "You, it's always you, sir."
"What do I do to you, Harry? In these fantasies of yours?"
"You watch me, you watch me touch myself with those dark eyes as if you can see into my soul, into my heart. You watch me and unbutton your trousers and then stroke yourself too. We come together, a sticky mess both of us."
***
Snape nibbled his way down Harry's neck, unable to believe how innocent the boy actually was. His fantasy life consisted of the two of them masturbating together? Did he even know what two men could do together? Snape shuddered at the thought that he would be the one to instruct the boy in pleasure, pleasure that until now Harry wasn't even aware of.
He pulled away from Harry's body, noting the tension in the limbs and the soft gasps coming from the boy, it just made everything seem much more delicious. He was the cause of it. Harry was in thrall to him and he intended to take full advantage of that tonight.
Snape muttered a quick spell and both of them were suddenly naked. Harry gasped in surprise. "They don't teach us that in Charms."
"I intend to teach you a lot tonight that isn't on the curriculum, Harry. Well, are you ready to begin your lessons?"
Harry nodded eagerly, his prick bobbing with the movement.
"Very well, lie down on the bed, Harry."
Harry complied and Snape admired the view of the boy's well muscled back, thighs and buttocks as he walked across the room. He lay down on his back, his hands automatically going to his genitals to hide them from view.
"No, Harry, turn over. I want you to lie on your front." Harry looked at him a little confused, Snape smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "I'm just going to give you a massage, Harry. It will help relax you, all right?"
Harry nodded and turned over, resting his head on his arms locked beneath the pillow. He was breathing loudly, it echoed in the stone chambers and Snape couldn't help a frisson of possessive desire wash over him. No-one had ever touched Harry so intimately as he was about to. Harry would be spoiled for anyone else, Snape would make sure of that. After tonight, there was no way Harry would ever want another.
***
Harry lay quietly, trying to still his breathing and the beating of his heart as he waited for the first touch of Snape's hands on his skin. The first touch of hands other than his own on his body. He was harder than he'd ever felt in his life. The smooth sheets beneath his body caressed his skin like the touch of his soon to be lover and Harry couldn't stop the gasp of yearning, wishing Snape would hurry up and touch him.
At last, he felt Snape's fingers on his skin, stroking his neck softly. Harry moaned and pressed himself deeper into the mattress. How had Snape known his neck was so sensitive? "So responsive, Harry," whispered Snape close to his ear and Harry shuddered with desire. "I like that." Snape bit his earlobe lightly before his hands continued down his shoulder blades and back, alternating between soft strokes of his hands and firm presses of fingertips. Harry didn't know where the touch was going to come next, but he didn't really care as long as Snape didn't stop touching him.
Harry's breath hitched when Snape began to knead his buttocks, then tugging them apart and Harry flushed, imagining Snape gazing at his most secret place. Even though he couldn't see Snape, he could feel the man's scrutiny and his cock twitched against the mattress at the same time as his anal muscles clenched. He could feel Snape's fingers against his bottom like a burning brand, but the man was no longer moving, just holding him open and Harry guessed staring at what was revealed.
"Please, oh, please," begged Harry, although he wasn't even sure what he was wishing for. He expected to be reprimanded, but Snape just bent down and kissed him on each buttock, then licking them in turn, his hands still holding him there. Oh, God, Snape moved and Harry could feel a soft breath directly over his opening and his cock hardened between his stomach and the bed. He was twitching, waiting to be filled, but he had no idea what Snape was going to do next. Snape trailed his tongue the whole length of Harry's crease and he wailed into the pillow, the sounds muffled by the cotton. Then his tongue was tasting, teasing at Harry's opening and he thought he was going to die from the pleasure shooting throughout his whole body. It felt so good!
And when Snape's tongue pushed past the ring of muscles, dancing inside his body, Harry revised that statement. He had already died and was in heaven. It was bliss, it was ecstasy and he didn't want it to stop. He didn't know what he wanted to do, push back onto Snape's talented tongue or push down onto the mattress to relieve his aching cock. His body decided for him, doing both at almost the same time and Harry felt his balls draw up beneath him.
"Stop! I'm going to come," he warned, disappointed when Snape's tongue stopped stroking him. He could still feel little puffs of breath there as Snape pulled out.
"It's okay, Harry. Come, I can guarantee you more than one orgasm tonight," said Snape before diving in to taste Harry once again. All Harry's limbs seemed to have turned to rubber as he let himself enjoy the sensations. It didn't take long before he shot his release onto the sheets beneath him, pulse after pulse of seed, more than he'd ever shot before. "OH, OH OH!" he moaned as the tremors roared through him, bucking his hips and squeezing out every last drop of pleasure that he could. Snape held tight to his hips, still licking until Harry was just too sensitive to handle anymore and he wriggled his hips, trying to get away.
Snape stopped, pressing a soft kiss on the left buttock, before lying down beside Harry. Harry turned his head to look at the man who'd just given him the most amazing orgasm of his life. "I think my bones have melted," smiled Harry.
"Good," said Snape. "That's the idea. Accio lube." A small glass jar fell into Snape's hands.
"What's that?" asked Harry, lazily. He felt as if he could sleep for a week and his eyelids drooped even as he said it.
"Oh, dear," smirked Snape. "Have I worn the Golden Boy out? Sleep, Harry. You'll find out what this is for tomorrow."
"It's Saturday tomorrow," mumbled Harry sleepily. "Everyone else is going to Hogsmeade. I told them I had detention with you. All day."
"Did you now? My, my, that was very Slytherin of you, Harry. You were expecting to spend all day with me, were you? Do you think I have nothing better to do than babysit infatuated students?"
Harry felt his heart crack somewhere down the middle. He struggled to get up, but Snape held him firmly to the bed, growling in his ear. "You were right, I don't have anything better to do. Now go to sleep, you'll need all your strength for tomorrow."
As Harry drifted off, he was sure he felt a light touch on his forehead, but Snape couldn't have kissed him there, could he?
***
Harry came to awareness slowly, he'd just had the most wonderful dream and his cock was aching again, wanting it to be repeated. As was his usual morning routine, Harry dropped his hand to his groin, only to encounter silky hair belonging to someone's head. He opened his eyes and groaned in surprise and arousal as she saw the Potion master's lips wrapped around his needy cock. Harry fisted the sheets on either side of the bed and bucked his hips, pushing his cock further into the man's hot, wet mouth. Snape's promise was certainly true, he was learning a lot of things this weekend. Not being used to it, he came in about five seconds, unable to contain himself any longer, feeling Snape swallow him down to the root as he drained Harry's cock of come.
Snape released his spent cock and looked at him. "You taste exquisite," he said before sliding up the bed and letting Harry taste himself as he kissed him hard and deep. Harry could feel himself hardening again already as well as feel an echoing erection next to his. He pulled his mouth away enough to ask, "Do you want me to do that to you?"
"Not at the moment, I want to come inside you. Will you let me?"
Harry nodded, at that moment he wanted nothing more than to be pounded into the mattress by the man above him.
He guided one of Snape's hands to his entrance and Snape chuckled against his neck. "You really are an innocent, aren't you?"
"I don't understand," protested Harry.
"Obviously," drawled Snape. "Women have natural lubrication in their bodies, Harry. When they are aroused, they produce more of it to enable intercourse to go smoothly. Men do not. If I'd put my finger in there without adding any lubricant, it would hurt more."
"Oh, I see," said Harry, remembering the jar from last night. It was sitting on Snape's bedside table and the professor
removed it, rubbing it in his hands to warm it a little.
"I won't lie to you about this, Harry, but the first time does usually hurt at least a little as your body isn't used to it. The lubricant should help to ease the way and the most comfortable position for you would be on your hands and knees. You have to relax and trust me. Can you?"
Harry nodded and turned over, getting into the position Snape had described. It was difficult supporting himself on his hands, so he grabbed hold of the slatted headboard instead to steady himself. He felt Snape's hands on his back, then a long finger entering him. Harry cried out and tensed, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain. When the second finger went in, he didn't think he could bear anything more. As Snape pushed a third finger in, stretching him mercilessly, Harry thought he would split in half. There was no way a cock was going to fit in there. He was too narrow, it wasn't going to work.
Harry's whole body was tense, screaming at him to say no, to stop this, now, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't disappoint Snape and he bit the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from speaking. If he only had this one chance with Snape, he was going to take it, no matter what his body was feeling. Snape kept rubbing his fingers inside him, what was he doing? It was annoying, he kept moving them in different directions and Harry couldn't get used to it. He wanted them out.
"Ready, Harry?" asked Snape as he removed them.
"Yes," Harry gasped in relief as the final finger slid out, but then something much longer, much thicker than a finger was pressing against the narrow channel and Harry wished he was anywhere else but here. Snape didn't move, just held onto Harry's hips and rubbed his back when he slid in. Harry was in agony and Harry couldn't stop his cries of distress as he tried to crawl away from the invader. "Harry?" Snape stopped moving, but Harry could still feel the fullness of the man's erection stretched tight against him.
"Quidditch! Stop! Please, it hurts! It hurts too much!" Harry was sobbing now, fat tears dripping from his eyes onto the bed below him.
"Ssh, Harry, it's all right. I'm going to pull out now, okay? Deep breath, that's it." Snape stroked his back and hips as he pulled out, almost as if he was trying to calm a skittish animal. Harry felt sick and sore, a fire of shame and humiliation burning in his chest.
Harry had never heard the man speak so gently and it made him cry more. He leaned his head against the headboard, unable to turn his head and even look at the man. What was wrong with him? He'd wanted this, hadn't he? He'd agreed to it, agreed to let Snape do it but nothing could have prepared him for the pain of it. He wanted to crawl away somewhere and hide.
"Harry?" came Snape's voice again, smoothing back his hair. Harry flinched and turned his head away. "Harry, you weren't ready for this yet, were you? Why didn't you tell me?"
Why didn't he tell him? Why hadn't he said no? Harry wasn't at all sure, he just knew that he would do anything for the man by his side, even if meant hurt for him. Harry's knees were aching, he lay back down on the bed, turning over onto this bed. "We - we can try again," he said, even as his muscles protested at the thought and the tears just kept falling like a waterfall.
"Hush, Harry," whispered Snape, lying down beside him and kissing him on the forehead. "I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to hurt you. Maybe we were rushing things just a bit?"
"I - I love you," hiccupped Harry. "I wanted you to make love to me. I don't know why it hurt so much. I'm sorry, I wanted this to be perfect!"
"Ssh, Harry, shh," Snape soothed him, rocking Harry in his arms like a child and Harry allowed himself that comfort, he'd never received comfort growing up and he craved it now. "It was perfect, I was with you." Snape stopped rocking him for a moment and looked deep into his eyes. "Did I not prepare you enough, Harry? With my fingers?"
"The - the fingers hurt inside me, like there wasn't enough room. Everything felt too tight, as if it was knitting together. I - I thought the oil was supposed to help?"
****
Snape nodded and lifted up the jar of oil, it looked okay, but he remembered Harry being very tight when he first entered him. Although a virgin, Harry shouldn't have been that tight after stretching by the oil, which also had a muscle relaxant in it. Snape uncapped the jar and sniffed. Lavender, rosemary, cinnamon and another odour, phoenix tears. They should not have been in this potion. The potion Snape held in his hands was not a lubricant, the jars were similar but the contents were not. How could he have been so stupid?
"Harry, I'm sorry, this is my fault. This wasn't a lubricant I used, it's a healing potion. Used to close open wounds."
"Cl- close?" Harry asked worriedly. "You mean it tried to - it tried to close me up? Back there?"
"I'm afraid so, Harry. Can you turn over so I can ascertain any damage?"
Harry gaped at him, eyes wide behind his glasses, but he obeyed, clutching the pillow with his arms and his breath hitching. Snape scanned the boy with magic, making sure there hadn't been any permanent damage done, there hadn't, but things would probably be a bit tight there for a few more days. Harry must have had a small anal tear somewhere for the healing potion to have started working, probably something so minor that the boy hadn't even been aware of it.
"Harry, I'm so sorry," he said again, his heart sinking to somewhere near his toes. He had never mixed up a potion before. Never. Harry was having more of an effect on him than he had anticipated.
"It's okay," said Harry, turning over to lie on his side. "I'm glad it was just a potion and not me. I - I want us to that again, please?"
"Harry, we will, just not today. Your body needs to heal." Snape pointedly ignored the disappointed twitch in his own groin. He wanted it too, but this time he was prepared to wait for as long as Harry needed to. He would not rush things again, he would not make the same mistake twice.
***
Up until he'd left school, they'd seen each other every night, but Snape did not do more than kiss and touch him, sometimes sucking him off and Harry lost himself in a haze of pleasure as he did the same for Snape. He was addicted to the man, every day was spent day dreaming of the night he would spend in Snape's bed. Everyone was so busy studying for their NEWTs that Harry slipped out of the Tower undetected and returned the same way, before everyone else was up.
In their explorations they discovered that Harry liked to have his nipples sucked and then bitten as he approached orgasm, that he was extremely ticklish unless he was aroused, that being spanked over Snape's lap as the older man played with his cock was nothing at all like a punishment and something Harry never thought he would have enjoyed until Snape had suggested it. He'd never needed to use his safeword again in their play yet and wondered if Snape would ever push him far enough to want to.
It was now the night after he'd graduated and Harry asked eagerly for that one thing he wanted Snape to give him.
"Are you sure, Harry?" asked Snape again and Harry nodded. He was sill feeling a little trepidation after the pain from his first time, but he really wanted this. He wanted Snape inside him.
"Just make sure you have the right oil this time, okay?" he grinned at the man hovering above him.
"Cheeky brat."
"Prat," Harry stuck his tongue out and was rewarded as Snape sucked on it and brought it into his mouth. Harry moaned and arched his back, his erection pressing against the firm body of the man above him. Snape kissed him like a man drowning and Harry was air.
Snape pulled away. "I want you," he growled in Harry's ear. "You're mine."
"Yours," agreed Harry breathlessly. "Forever."
"Forever," echoed Snape and Harry felt a soft weight on his finger, he glanced at his hand and then up at Snape in surprise. There was an identical ring on the Potion master's finger.
"Sir?" he queried, wondering what they meant.
"They are rings of intent, Harry. They are spelled to appear on my intended's hands when he agreed to become mine, the identical ring appearing on my own. They are precursors to bonding rings."
"B-bonding rings? You mean like married?" Harry's heart sped up at the thought. Married to Snape. Belonging to Snape. He glanced in renewed interest at the plain sliver bands they each now wore. "Wearing this ring, does that mean people will know I belong to you?"
"They will know you belong to someone, not necessarily me. The rings were spelled, Harry, but do not think that just because they are there you have to agree to become my mate. They can just as easily be removed with a simple charm if this is something you do not wish."
"I wish it," said Harry. "I wish it with all my heart."
"Good," Snape kissed his forehead and smiled at him. "Then you won't mind waiting until the wedding night? It's tradition, you know."
"What?" panted Harry, his erection so hard he thought he could die from frustration. "You can't mean that!"
Snape laughed against Harry's throat. "No, I don't."
As Snape reached for the oil on the bedside table, Harry forgot all about rings and bondings and how his friends would react when they found out. Instead he concentrated on Snape's fingers dancing on his body, giving him so much pleasure, so different to the last time they had done this. They were was no pain and when Snape arched his fingers against something inside him, it was like an electrical jolt straight to his groin and Harry bucked his hips entirely off the bed.
"Please, now, please," he begged Snape. This time when Snape entered him there was no pain at all, only pleasure that seemed to build and build until Harry thought he was going to combust. He came first, Snape hadn't even touched his cock, spilling between their chests in ecstatic pulses. Soon Snape howled above him gripping his hips so tight that Harry thought he might be bruised tomorrow, biting Harry's neck as he found his own release inside Harry.
"Harry, Harry," he rasped against Harry's cheek. "I - I -"
"It's okay, Severus, you don't need to say it. I know."
Feeling languid and sated, wrapped in the man's strong arms, Harry did indeed know it. He loved Severus Snape and he was loved in return. He did not need to hear the words to know it.
Epilogue
Severus Snape rushed through his last class of the day. It was their first wedding anniversary and Harry had promised him a special surprise tonight. Since Harry's 'surprises' usually involved both of them getting naked together, he was rather looking forward to it and his groin tightened with heady anticipation.
As the last of the dunderheads he had the misfortune to teach drifted out, he saw Harry enter his classroom, a heavy wool cloak wrapped over him. Since it was July, the sight was a little disconcerting. Harry locked and warded the door, casting heavy silencing charms on it.
Harry had his glasses on tonight, the contact lenses irritated him if he wore them too often. Snape would never admit it, but he quite liked the glasses. "Harry? I thought we were meeting in our rooms?"
Harry didn't answer, he flung his cloak to the ground, revealing his old school uniform on underneath. Snape gasped as he realised what was going on. Harry loved to role play and pretending that they were still teacher and student rather than both professors was something that Harry enjoyed like nothing else.
"Professor," said Harry in an unsteady voice. "I'm late for detention again, you have to punish me."
"You have no respect, boy. On your knees and I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget."
Harry obeyed, lowering his neck so that Snape could have a good view of the collar he wore. Snape's breath caught in his throat as he saw the ancient runes decorating the leather. Runes that hadn't been on the collar that morning, the collar being Snape's anniversary gift to Harry. It had been a long time since he'd studied Ancient Runes, but Snape could translate these easily enough.
Harry Potter, property of Severus Snape
He wondered what gift Harry would give him for their second year together when he'd already given Snape what he had always wanted for the first.
Harry had given Snape himself.
The End
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发表于 2009-7-21 13:02
Ah, another sweet story...Their first night is too amusing, Severus unexpectedly accioed a wrong potion...
