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    Summary

    “You know,” Granger observes innocently, twirling her champagne flute by the stem. “Now that the speeches are over, nobody would notice if we slipped away.” A perfect arched eyebrow and a provocative little sip of champagne, as if he needed the reminder that the last thing she swallowed was a throatload of his cum.

    Merlin, she’s intoxicating when she’s challenging him, teasing him. Playful, unafraid, in a way nobody’s ever been, with shy, sullen, bitter, Death Eater-turned-war hero Severus Snape. His cock pipes up, impudently, to register its interest in how this conversation is proceeding.

    Her other eyebrow comes up to meet its partner.

    Severus knows that look; it’s the one that says Hermione Granger has smelled blood. Like the most unrepentant of seductive vampires, and he knows that he’s utterly fucked, in every sense.

    Severus is bored and snarkily morose at yet another interminable post-war celebration feast. Luckily, Hermione, sitting next to him at the Hogwarts High Table, is a master of... distractions of the most pleasant kind.

    Series
    Language:
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