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Summary
"Let go. Shhh . . ." a gentle purr escaped his throat. His finger caressed a nudge upon her knuckles. "Let go . . . for relief must soak your body. How you yearn to touch yourself . . . to feel . . ." Severus broke his stare with a slow blink, angling his palms in a failed attempt to cup her breasts. ". . . and feel good. Such a deprived little witch, aren't you?"
"What was your sin, professor?"
"Not so memorable as this, Darkling . . ."
A star-crossed love between a melancholic, hypoesthesic witch and her Dark Arts professor.