His hands swept the small, pale planes of her shoulders and she sighed at the contact. Lips met breastbone and blade of shoulder and she gasped against the silk that bound her wrists to the bars of the bed.

Their romantic relationship was new, but not so new that they felt uncomfortable exploring different nuances to their lovemaking. It had made her blush once, thinking the word lovemaking. It had seemed ridiculously trite and flowery. The girls in her year had called it shagging, and that had seemed a much better word to her, something flat and simple to describe the act that couldn't possibly live up to its hype.

The first time was quick and fumbled with a boy she'd loved dearly. They'd been nervous and embarrassed and Snape had actually walked in on them as they dressed. His eyes had narrowed to slits as they'd made up the lamest excuses ever recorded inside the walls of Hogwarts. They had both been so traumatized by the experience that they'd remained chaste friends until well after they'd graduated.

Chaste did not describe their relationship now as he spread her legs and the man she loved dearly pressed his mouth to the inside of her thigh, asking her if she liked this, if she wanted him to touch her more firmly, what she'd think if he decided he'd do what he liked, because what was she going to do about it?

It was a side of him she'd never known, not in the long years of their affiliation with each other, not in the short few months they'd been decidedly more than friends. There was something cunning and ruthless about him now, and she thought, yes, this man might have done well in Slytherin, but thank goodness he didn't choose that path.

"What about this?" he asked, and slid his fingers inside her body once, twice, then removed them, his lips pressing a chaste (chaste!) kiss to the pointing jut of her hip.

"Yes," she whispered, pulling at her bonds but never, never wanting to be freed.

~

END