Hermione woke, stretching. There were days she just felt so tired. She knew she wasn't the only mum of a newborn who felt that way. She just, really, had no idea. The babysitting she'd done had been for a few hours or so at a time. This was every day. All day. And doing things around the house when she could.

It was too cold to bring him with her outside, but there was always something to do in the house. Things would start to thaw soon to where she was already planning what to plant where. Her goal for this summer and fall was to grow as much as she could toward being as self-sustaining as they could be. Thomas wouldn't be eating much yet, so her planning for enough for Severus and her should still be good. Next year, she imagined, it would change. Likely only somewhat. She imagined she had a couple of years before Thomas would have a ferocious appetite. She hoped!

It wasn't until this week they'd thought it was acceptable for her to start coming here again. Taking into account how long it took to recover from delivering a baby, both knew even five weeks was pushing it. Severus had come home every weekend so they'd seen one another. Admittedly, it had given her much needed time to acclimate to this baby she was half responsible for. As prepared and on top of things as Severus seemed to think she was, she questioned herself every day. Several times a day!

This was not a rough draft that she could review and edit after thinking about it overnight. This was a living, breathing baby who was reliant on them for, well, everything.

There had been times over the past six weeks that he wouldn't take his bottle and she'd break down in tears, certain the baby was going to starve to death before anything could possibly go wrong in the future!

She'd been spit up on.

She'd taken to wearing her hair at least tied back even in the house to ensure he wouldn't spit up on it, too. The clothes were bad enough to get the smell out of. Scourgify helped, but the stuff was truly vile.

She'd been peed on, learning quickly to put a clean nappy over him as soon as she could. Or a flannel when she was giving him his bath.

Severus had woken up hours ago, at least it seemed like that. She'd woken up, too, but she'd returned to bed for a couple more hours as soon as Thomas had been fed and changed. She still alternated between calling him Thomas and Tom in her head six weeks into this. There was a part of her that thought they shouldn't even tempt fate by calling him Tom.

They both came to the conclusion that it was Thomas until they decided otherwise. That decision would come as he grew. They both knew that sometimes a child's personality dictated what they were called. Of course, neither of them had names that could really be shortened and neither had a nickname they liked.

She was starting to understand why new mums talked about it being so exhausting. She couldn't imagine someone having to go through this who'd had a C-section or even a regular vaginal birth.

She heard no sounds to indicate Thomas was awake, so took advantage of that (and the better facilities at Hogwarts) and showered. Their bathroom at the house was nice, but baths took too long when she had a baby that could wake up fussing for sustenance at any moment.

Once in a while, when he was home on the weekend, Severus would sit with Thomas while grading papers, so that she could avail herself of their luxurious tub and the oils he made for her. She usually took an hour or so to read or whatever she chose to do undisturbed after the bath.

Those hours were heavenly. She didn't get upset that there had only been a few of them in the past six weeks either. He was busy and didn't consider himself a gentle enough man to hold a baby. (She didn't agree.) She completely understood that. So, she took them and thoroughly enjoyed them, hoping that as Thomas got older there'd be more of them. She knew Severus wasn't overly comfortable handling a baby yet. He was much better today than he had been even six weeks ago.

He hadn't wanted to hold him at all the first day or two. She knew it wasn't because of who the baby was, but feeling inept or unable to keep him safe. She'd finally set a sleeping and swaddled Thomas in his arms when he was seated on the couch one day.

She wasn't comfortable either! Books were great for information, but they were not an actual baby!

Showered, she dressed for the day. Most of her clothes were here now, well the winter ones anyway. Everything for summer was still at the house. As she dressed very casually during the summer, she wasn't expecting to bring any of those items here anyway.

She was thinking about breakfast, wondering if she'd get to eat it undisturbed this morning. It was never a certainty, no matter the time she ate. Mintzy seemed to love to bring her breakfast and check on the status of the Hogwarts baby.

She gasped when she came out of their room to a bouquet of pink ranunculus on the table where she took breakfast. She made her way to them, certain they were a mirage or something. She could smell them and there was even a letter set on the tabletop, leaning up against the vase. So, not her imagination at all.

She pulled the piece of parchment out from the envelope that had her name written on the front of it in his familiar script.

Dear Marie Rose,

Shocking, I'm sure, I am not a romantic by nature. You may know (or perhaps not) that I loathe this holiday and the cupids, red, pink, roses, hearts, and don't even get me started on confetti or glitter that seem to accompany it; finding them tiresome and incredibly unimaginative. Putting those personal feelings, feelings that I realize not everyone subscribes to, aside you are, in fact, my Valentine henceforth. My first ever if I'm being honest. (That's probably not overly shocking to learn.) So to avoid being delegated to the sofa for the night (I've fallen asleep on it and it's not as comfortable as it might look), I thought it best I suck it up and wish you a Happy Valentine's Day. I could not stomach roses, though. They are far too cliche and common. I like to think that I am anything but.

I know for certain that you are.

Begrudgingly,

Erik

She gave a giddy laugh, one that probably betrayed the fact she was seventeen and not twenty-seven as she read the note a second time. She really hadn't expected anything from him. All students knew that Severus Snape was not a fan of Valentine's Day, or anything to do with it. No one knew why, but there were rumours abound that Hermione found distasteful and disrespectful. So, she'd never believed any of them.

The fact he'd put that aside meant so much.

She noticed, too, there was more than one cookie missing from the plate she'd left out for him after coming back from the house late last night. (Thus the reason she didn't wake up with him this morning.) The card she'd left for him was gone as well.

She called for Mintzy as she heard Tom stirring in his crib. Hogwarts truly was amazing. There hadn't been a second bedroom as part of his quarters until she started bringing him here. She didn't understand how it worked, but there was now and it had everything a baby needed in it.

"Yes, Missus," Mintzy said.

Mintzy it seemed was their elf at Hogwarts, and to aid with household things at home. Severus had bought a few elves to help Hermione work the land this year. She loathed owning them, but Severus had been assured they wanted to work. The help was admittedly welcome as she suspected it was just too much for her to do completely on her own. Maybe once she got the hang of it she wouldn't need them. She liked to think, too, that she treated them more than just fairly. She was barely home anymore, and it was winter, so they didn't have much to do but tend to the animals right now as it was.

She'd been impressed that Severus hadn't batted an eye or balked at her list of animals and quantities of them she wanted. Again, she wasn't trying to feed thousands, but she wanted the three of them to survive. And if they had extra to help others. Well, that wasn't a bad thing. So, they had everything she thought they could use.

"Whatever the breakfast was this morning, please. And a bottle for Thomas."

"Right away, Missus."

With a pop she was gone, returning moments later with all that Hermione had asked for.

"How are you today, Mintzy?"

"Mintzy is well, Missus. You?"

"Oh, good, thank you," she said.

Mintzy cast a stasis charm on her plate so she could change and feed Thomas and still have warm food. Hermione appreciated the gesture because she forgot. She seemed to do that - eat cold or colder than it was meant to be food - more often than not these days. Thomas came first.

"And thank you for breakfast. Do I thank you for the flowers, too?" she asked, gesturing to the centerpiece.

"No, Missus, Mister brought them special for his Missus."

"Oh," she said. Where would he even go to get them, she wondered. Hogsmeade she supposed. "Well, thank you, see you in a little while."

"Yes, Missus."

With a pop she was gone. Thomas tended to, she brought him out to the dining area and set him on the floor. She had a blanket that she moved from place to place, so he had somewhere soft and warm to lie on on the floor. She cast the morning's warming charm on the floor and then another one on the blanket before setting him on it. She always did two, wanting something that would take the chill off of the floor beneath him. The fire was going strong, of course, but the floor was still cooler.

"So, Daddy gave me flowers. That's most unexpected," she said. She honestly wasn't even sure he'd get her anything. It was, she had to agree with him, a fairly silly holiday.

She hated to think it, but the cookies had been a whim. She didn't believe he'd appreciate flowers, and she knew he hated the holiday. She'd racked her brain for more than a week for something she could get him. She hadn't come up with anything that she didn't think he'd hate. So, cookies it was. She'd even traded some canned cherries to one of the neighbors she'd met early last summer who had walnut trees in her yard and "still more from fall's harvest than I know what to do with" so he had fresh walnuts in them. 

They had their own walnut trees, but it was Hermione's attempt at making a friend. Thus far it seemed to work. Hermione had taken tea with Hedda a few times over the summer, stopping the visits once Severus went to Hogwarts. She'd excused her absence once she couldn't be seen any longer, saying that she was accompanying her husband to the boarding school he taught at for a few months after all. She suspected somehow that Thomas would have a grandma figure in Hedda when he got old enough. She didn't find it strange to have a friend old enough to be her mum.

Cookies seemed safe, personal (she baked what she knew by now were his favourites) yet not overreaching. She hoped anyway. And in her experience Valentine's Day was really for the witch anyway.

Never in a million years did Hermione imagine that her life would be about canning fruit and vegetables, milking goats, planning how many heads of beef cattle she wanted, and learning how to raise chickens and pigs or plant and harvest crops.

She stared at the flowers, the first she'd ever been given now that she thought about it. Viktor had given her a corsage for the Yule Ball, but that was expected . She supposed Severus could view it as flowers were expected today, but she'd had no such expectations. Honestly, if he'd given her a card that showed he thought of her, she would have been touched.

Would her parents be disappointed in what she was doing with her life?

She'd wondered that probably a million times already the past nearly twelve months since making the decision to come back here. She liked to think they wouldn't be. She was doing something hugely important, not just for the wizarding world either. The whole world really, as Voldemort's violence was getting worse and broader. True, it wasn't earth-shattering, newsworthy stuff. She wasn't going to make history like Eleanor Roosevelt or Marie Curie. At the end, there would be no glorious epitaphs on her tombstone about saving the world.

She was coming to learn, there was more than being famous. She only recently began realizing just how much Severus had done in the background to protect not just Harry, Ron, and her but others as well. He did it without fanfare, without expecting thanks or even notoriety. Yes, his initial reasons weren't with that in mind, but she firmly believed that by the time they'd come back here they were. He could have allowed harm to come to her or Ron at any point over the years, and it wouldn't have mattered because Harry survived. Yet, he hadn't. And no one knew. Everyone thought he was a git and an evil death eater. Her heart ached a bit for him. She wished she could go back and tell all of them, everyone, that he wasn't those things. Of course, she couldn't, and doing so would have outed him as a spy. It didn't mean that it bothered her less that people saw him in that way. She took it as a compliment he was letting her see he wasn't that man.

He was willing to basically give his life to try and help defeat the person who he'd committed violence for. If it weren't for being sent here to this time with him, she wouldn't know the truth either.

She wondered if anyone ever would have learned the truth. She couldn't imagine how.

Well, she was coming to realize that sometimes the people who did things with no attention - and expecting none - were better off. And knowing that she might be able to help the friends around their house and the nearby town she'd made the past year made her feel as if she was doing the right thing. She was doing something.

She'd gotten a sling from the resident healer at Hogwarts and made a makeshift baby carrier out of it so she could walk with Thomas strapped to her. Carrying him in her arms throughout the castle got to be too much! Laranda was over the moon about Thomas so when Hermione had told her what the sling was for, she wanted to see it used. So, they'd worked on it together to ensure Thomas would be safe.

"You could make those, you know," Laranda told her. "I don't know why no one's thought of it before now."

"I'm sure others have!"

"I say we should put our heads together and come up with a way of getting them to other mums out there who might like a break from carrying their wee one everywhere."

"Trust me, it's no less taxing on my back, but yes, let's. Let me talk to my husband first."

Severus seemed to support the idea. (She hadn't imagined he wouldn't, but she wanted to be sure that he didn't think "inventing" something like it wouldn't disrupt something.) So, she and Healer Laranda would hopefully have a nice side project. Hermione agreed to supply the fabric for now because she did not excel at sewing. Laranda was more than willing to work with her on that, which Hermione wasn't adverse to learning. Two could obviously produce more than one. They'd see what would happen from there. It would give her something to do with her days at Hogwarts while he was teaching. She needed something to do! It was something in addition to knitting she could add to her list of skills. Skills that would allow her to blend in if invited to someone's home. Laranda, at least, hadn't seemed to find it incredibly odd Hermione wasn't good at sewing, thank goodness.

Breakfast eaten and Thomas in his sling, she left their rooms in search of her husband. She found him in his classroom, his class just ending it looked like.

"Madam Prins," he said when he saw her.

"Good morning, Master Prins."

A few students said hello to her and Thomas as they left the classroom.

"Taking Thomas for a stroll?"

"Yes. We wanted to see you," she said. Obviously, she wanted to see him as Thomas had no opinion on the subject.

She walked toward his desk, saying hello to the few straggling students. They knew her by now. She was getting to know them. She was their potion professor's wife. There were hundreds of them to remember.

"Thank you," she said, leaning up as best as she could with Thomas strapped to her to kiss him. He met her halfway, though. 

"They met with your approval?"

"They did, they're lovely."

"And thank you for the cookies."

"You're welcome. I wasn't sure…"

He set a hand against her cheek, grazing it with his thumb just under her eye. "You did fine. I would not want flowers or anything anyway. Knowing you thought of me is suitable and appreciated."

"I did think of flowers or something, but didn't want to get hexed!"

He chuckled. She was still getting used to Severus Snape laughing. She liked it. When she was responsible for it, it made her insides do things that she didn't completely understand. "That wouldn't be very husbandly of me now, would it?"

"It depends on whose version of husbandly we're talking about."

"Mine."

"Then no."

She'd come to find out over the past eleven months that his version of being a husband was rather … pleasing. He was overall kind, or at least tried to be. He had his moments for sure, but so did she. They both had tempers. They were both stubborn. He was used to doing things his way and not having to explain those ways to anyone else. She was used to the way her mum and dad organised things. They had to remind themselves, and each other, that they were in this together. He was patient as he worked with her on cooking and other things. He took her comments to heart and, if he disagreed, rather than just overrule her, they discussed it. He was rather old fashioned, but it fit in 1926.

She took a seat then once he'd drawn a nearby chair next to his desk.

"So, how is Thomas today?"

"Fine," she said.

He was six weeks old now. She only had limited knowledge of babies and their development. It wasn't something she'd thought to study obsessively before the age of seventeen. He seemed on track from what she knew. He was definitely able to hold his head up when on his tummy better now. She recognized his eyes were following her, and Severus, when they did things in his line of vision. He'd found his own fist a time or two recently, too. The first time she couldn't figure out what the sound was she was hearing, only to discover he was sucking on his hand.

"He seems to be sleeping a little longer nights, yes?"

"Yes."

She was able to feed him for the last time around midnight and have him sleep until about five o'clock now. Sometimes earlier, but those less than five hour spells were becoming fewer and fewer.

"Excellent. I know it's not expected but," he whispered, settling a hand at the top of Thomas' head. It and his feet were about the only visible thing of his when in the sling like this. "I do apologize I'm not doing more to assist with that."

"Nonsense. I'm not working, you are. You hold him, you've learned how to change him and get him his bath. So you've helped, and just knowing you can do these things if I get the flu or something eases my mind. The evenings you've let me relax for a couple of hours have been helpful. I assure you that's more than probably most fathers do, regardless of when we're talking about."

"I'm glad that you think so."

"I do. Now in two years when we're trying to potty train him. That's on you."

"Is that so?" He sounded more amused than anything by what she'd just said. She doubted he'd thought much on potty training yet. Why would he?

"Yes. I don't have the same equipment, you know."

"Actually, no, I wouldn't know."

"Mm, would you like to know?"

"Is that a trick question? You know that I would," he said.

"You have a very funny way of showing it."

"I would not push. I'm sure Albus is watching to see if I've…"

"Yes, well, he's not in our bedroom. I've been seventeen for months now. Unless you planned on waiting until I'm eighteen?"

"Would you think less of me if I said I would not wish to if you do not?"

"No," she said. She was rather relieved to hear him say that. She was kind of afraid he was going to want to wait another six months! Maybe it was Thomas being here, a physical representation of the sex they supposedly did have. Or the fact that only one or two nights had gone by (and never consecutively) since the night Thomas came home that she hadn't slept with him. She'd found herself thinking about it lately. Not obsessively so, but … she was curious. "I don't either, really. I can admit I'm tired, and so are you, so it never seems like a good time. Maybe we could go home this weekend?"

"Our secluded dungeon bedroom is not private enough for you?"

She chuckled, shifting Thomas a bit so she could lean in closer after ensuring the classroom was, in fact, empty but for them. "No, in fact, it is not. Reason being, I don't plan on either of us getting dressed again until we have to come back Monday morning. Our bedroom at home stays much warmer and our house is completely private."

"No plans on eating?"

"I'll wear one of your shirts."

"And nothing else?" he asked, sounding shocked. The look in his eyes told her he was anything but. She liked that look there. She liked that she had caused it.

"Yes."

"You are progressive, aren't you?"

"I won't tell if you don't."

"And I would wear?"

"Nothing? Whatever you want? I'd prefer you in as little as possible. As long as you leave me a shirt."

"Mm. I think I like this idea of yours, Wife."

"Home Friday night then?"

"I suddenly look forward to the weekend more so than usual."

"Then my mission is accomplished here."

"Will I see you both for lunch?"

"If I'm not too busy picking out which of your shirts I'm going to wear, yes."

"I see that I should have added sass to that insolent promise and vow while I was at it."

"You like me sassy, though, Erik. At least I'll keep you on your toes."

"I think this might be a more than slightly factual statement."

She stood then, stepping toward him to kiss him. "You'll see us for lunch," she said, drawing away. He seemed to like it when they joined him at the head table for lunch. She did, too. It was the best way to … observe, and to ensure all of those etiquette and propriety morsels she'd learned and read up on got put to use. She'd never keep up on them if she ate in his rooms or at their house all of the time.

"I look forward to it."

"Me, too," she said.

She waved her hand then, sending the chair back to where he'd gotten it as a few students came in. They eyed her curiously. Severus still didn't do much wand or hand waving in his classroom. He didn't do much hand waving as a whole. He did not want people to know he was as capable with wandless magic as he was. No one but Hermione, that she knew of, was aware he was proficient with his left hand. Element of surprise if it was ever needed. Grindelwald was still out there. For her part, he did want people to know what she was capable of. It was a fine line, but she knew that if she was going to garner respect she had to show she deserved it. As this was her first week here, they probably weren't expecting to see that type of magic being done in here.

"Begrudgingly," she added before leaving to a chorus of. "Bye, Madam Prins. Bye, Thomas."

It was around nine o'clock when he felt the wards go off briefly leading to his lab. They did not alert him to anything, so he knew it was Hermione.

"Mm, bored?" he asked, distractedly.

"Kind of," she said from the doorway.

"Thomas?"

"Napping."

"Mm, so you came to pester me?"

He felt a wave of magic in the air.

Hers.

After almost a year of being around and working with her on various things so much, he was capable of recognizing hers from anyone else's. Even Albus' was … different from what he knew of the wizard fifty, sixty, and seventy years from now. Of course fifty years from now, that Severus had not been capable of truly feeling the difference between specific peoples' magic, he just knew what magic felt like.

"You never told me you bought a red shirt," she said, still behind him and standing at the doorway from what he could tell.

"I didn't realize that I had to clear my clothing purchases through you."

"Erik," she murmured.

"What?" he asked.

The word came out shorter than he'd meant it to. He knew he sounded annoyed. He didn't mean to sound that way, but the earlier he finished here the sooner he could get to his rooms.

To his son.

And to his wife.

She knew that he didn't like to be here so late, so hoped she would understand that his annoyance wasn't with her. She didn't usually come to his lab just to chat at this time of night for that reason.

Still, he should tell her it wasn't her causing his annoyance and was going to do so.

Until he turned around to look at her.

He was no longer annoyed.

At all.

In fact, he went from annoyed to aroused so quickly he thought that he might very well be dreaming. Or hallucinating.

The magic he'd felt moments ago was evidently her shedding her robe. How did he know that? Well, it was obvious because it was currently in a pool of black fabric at her feet.

She wore the blood red shirt he'd purchased on a whim not long ago, and had yet to wear because it was new to him to even entertain the notion of wearing such a colour. His tailor had insisted it was a flattering colour. Buying it and wearing it didn't go hand in hand for Severus.

From the looks of it, she wore nothing else except for a pair of black strappy heels that he remembered from their Christmas dinner in Limerick. They'd strayed from London in an attempt to ensure that no one would see her out of the house not severely pregnant. He'd given her a list of cities he knew no one currently residing at Hogwarts in any capacity called home, allowing her to choose. She'd chosen well. He remembered the shoes because he'd really never seen a witch wear such things, certainly not for him. He didn't entertain in the muggle world to see non-witches wear them.

While he'd admired them Christmas night, tonight, he found them both fetching and provocative. He was pretty sure it wasn't the shoes but the combination of her in them that he found fetching and provocative.

Certainly, he could tell she wore no bra. As to the knickers. He swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling tight and a bit constricted as he remembered their conversation about thong knickers last March.

Had she preferred thong knickers in 1996? Was she wearing a pair now? (Assuming she had been wearing a pair when they came back.)

In all of his life, in all of his encounters, never had a witch come to him dressed in such a way. He didn't partake in the offerings of Knockturn Alley trade workers, but there was certainly no thought in the process beyond having an itch to scratch and finding someone interested in helping him do that he encountered at a party or, when he really wanted to be anonymous, at a muggle bar. There was no forethought or planning. There was no undressing or dressing provocatively. There was certainly no donning his shirts in the process. It just was what it was.

Sex.

Fucking really, because even sex to him held … emotional connotations that had never been involved in his couplings. Hell, he didn't even know their names, not that there were that many. Those encounters never left him feeling as fulfilled as he expected they would or should, so they were few and far between. He'd just assumed there was something … lacking in him that he did not desire such things.

He was obviously very, very wrong. He desired such things very intensely right at this moment.

She was nibbling that lower lip of hers, looking as if she wanted to flee the room or disappear under her robes still at her feet.

"It's not Friday," he said and shook his head, realizing that was an absolutely ridiculous thing to say.

"I thought maybe spontaneous so we weren't both spending days thinking about it…"

"I see," he said. He could see her thinking that very easily. Then the thought occurred to him. She'd come to his lab. "Here?"

She glanced at the spare potions table he had. It was currently empty because he'd set it up for her, if she were to assist him. He didn't want to get into the habit of thinking he could use it in case she did. He wanted her to get as much experience as she could. Albus had mentioned being more than agreeable to letting her sit her NEWTs, privately, whenever Severus thought she was ready to do so. He wasn't sure how that would be managed yet, but the tutoring toward that end was still happening as they could manage it. Albus, evidently, listened to her as she spoke at the head table, and realized that Severus wasn't lying when they first met last year and said she was intelligent and deserved to sit them.

He truly wanted this witch to succeed in whatever she chose to do.

He wasn't sure he'd envisioned the table being used for such purposes when he'd decided that one would be her table, though. Evidently parts of him liked that idea a lot. And it wasn't just his mind.

Her lack of response seemed to be her answer.

"Really?" he asked finally. He could admit that she would think that as a suitable spot was surprising.

"Is that," she shrugged. "Wrong?"

"No, not wrong. So long as you understand that this is not standard operating procedure for me in my lab."

"You don't say," she quipped as she walked to the empty table in question, evidently having the same idea about it as he had.

She hopped onto it, crossing one ankle over the other and settled her hands at the shirt button that was fastened closest to the top of his shirt she had on. It was already unbuttoned enough it was clear she had no bra or other top on underneath it. Working this one open would give him a very nice view of the tops of her breasts.

She worked one button and then another, biting that lower lip as she watched him so he knew she was nervous. That was good because he certainly was out of his element here with a witch coming to him for such purposes.

"Thomas?" he asked. His voice cracked with just that one word. Merlin, was he thirty-seven or seventeen?

"Should be asleep for another hour at least."

"I see. And you planned on us being occupied here that entire hour?"

"Mm hmm," she said, working another button.

He closed the distance between them, leaning in to brush his cheek against hers and her hair. He loved how soft her skin was. He loved the scent of her. He made her bath oils, and took pride in the fact that she used them, knowing the efforts of his work clung to her skin. Subtle. His witch could not be surrounded by a cloud of scents. She uncrossed her feet, sliding the side of one of the shoes he had admired moments ago along his upper calf through his trousers. He'd removed his robes a while ago since he was working alone in his lab.

"You realize if I was a normal wizard from this time period and you were doing this to me, I'd be dead by now?"

"I know. Lucky me. I've heard progressive wizards are where it's at."

"Have you now," he whispered, kissing her ear as he settled his hands over hers to help her work the next button down.

"Uh huh," she said as the next button came undone.

He couldn't say which of them did most of the work on that one. The shirt was so close to being completely unbuttoned now that her breasts were visible to him as the shirt parted open.

So help him. If he was going to go. This was how he wanted to go, he realized. He lowered his head, dropping his hands from over hers to her hips as he laved the top of one breast and then the other with his tongue before moving ever so slightly down to capture a peak in between his lips.

He groaned almost as loudly as she did at the feel of her nipple hardening against his lips and tongue. He lifted his head and moved one arm only long enough to ensure a silencing charm was cast on the room.

"I already did that," she whispered. "When I took the cloak off."

"It's doubly strong then," he said, returning his attention to her breast and the perky nipple that he was enjoying the taste and feel of. "That means you can be as loud as you wish."

She gasped as he swirled his tongue along her areola.

"Are you going to be?"

He lifted his head away the bare minimum necessary to be able to speak. "That would please you?"

"Uh huh," she said.

"Then I certainly can be. I have not…"

"If you're not comfortable."

He scoffed. "This," he said, gesturing to her and the table. "Is all new and uncomfortable to me."

"Oh," she said. "If you don't…"

"That is not what I said. Am I behaving as if I don't want to?"

"Well, put like that," she said, sliding her hands to his head and pushing it back into place against her breast. Not that she had to push too hard. "Please keep going then. An hour goes by pretty fast I bet."

He snorted against her breast, and she gave a soft laugh that sounded almost like a giggle at that. The giggle turned into the most sensual sounding moan he'd ever heard when he slid his thumb along the breast he wasn't busy kissing and sucking on.

"Don't bite your lip, I want to hear what pleases you," he murmured, brushing his cheek against the underside of her breast before kissing the spot of skin between them. Her legs were now wrapped along his thighs and she was pressing against him.

There were no knickers under the shirt, thong or otherwise.

"Christ, Her … Marie," he whispered as he instinctively pressed against her and she cried out. 

His hand at her hip, slid under the shirt and pulled her closer to the edge of the table so he could fit against her better. He cupped her arse, splaying his fingers over one of her cheeks and they both groaned as a tip of his finger grazed along the crevice there.

She whimpered as he slid his mouth away from her breast, lower along her rib cage and stomach, dropping kisses along his path as he went.

His hands at her thighs now.

"Marie. Hermione," he whispered. "Look at me."

She did, and he thought he might finish there and then from the look of absolute desire in her eyes. They were absolutely ablaze with it. Merlin, he'd never seen that look aimed at him.

"This is for me?" he asked, squeezing her thighs. "If what I said earlier about preferring not to wait has made you think that I cannot. If I put any pressure or expectation on you…"

"Yes," she whispered. "I mean, no, you haven't, and I very much want you to keep doing what you're doing."

"You are sure?"

"Severus," she hissed.

He spread her legs then, kneeling on the floor so he was in the right position to bring first his tongue and then his lips over her bundle of nerves. This was something he'd never done before. He'd never felt as though someone wanted him before. It was fucking, nothing personal.

This, with her, was incredibly personal, and he very much wanted her to be his in every way possible.

One of her hands found purchase on the table top. The other in his hair, combing her fingers through it as he worked his mouth and tongue over her sensitive parts. She arched into him. He tried to take his cues from those gestures as to what she wanted. Where she wanted him. He dipped his tongue lower, grazing her slit and she cried out so loudly for a moment he thought she was in pain or he'd done something wrong so he stopped.

"Oh, fuck, don't you dare stop doing that with your tongue."

No pain or anything wrong then.

Good to know.

She moved the hand at his head, finding one of his hands at her hip and guiding it between her legs. He took the hint, grazing her clit with his thumb.

"Yes," she murmured. "Oh, God. Please tell me you're as turned on as I am."

He chuckled and drew away from pleasing and tasting her for a moment.

"I would let you feel how aroused I am, but it would require me to stop doing this."

"I'll wait, as long as you say you are."

"I am."

"Good, because that turns me on."

"My being aroused?" he asked, grazing her nub with his thumb again.

"Uh huh," she said.

"Good to know."

"Incredibly. I like knowing I make you hard."

"You do. Tonight isn't the first time."

"No?" she asked.

He scoffed. "I've slept next to you for months now. No. I assure you, you sleep like this," he said, gesturing to his shirt, "going forward and I will show you frequently."

"Promise?"

"Yes," he murmured. "Now, may I return to what I was doing? Or did you not wish to finish?"

"I want to!"

He took hold of one of her hands then, sliding it between her legs.

"Then assist me," he whispered.

"Really?" She looked as if she thought he might be tricking her.

He shrugged. "I am a visual learner." He also knew he was not an expert in these things, so he'd prefer she assisted so she achieved the desired climax the way that worked best for her.

She smirked then with a soft laugh. "Is that right?"

"It is so."

She slid her fingers along her lower lips still moist from his ministrations, watching him closely as she drew them up again to circle her clit.

He groaned as he brought his mouth to her slit again.

"You're not watching," she whispered.

And then said nothing else after he dipped his tongue inside of her.

Eventually, he liked to think through both of their efforts and not just her own, she came undone around his tongue with a soft cry. He drew away after a moment, finding her inner thigh to kiss and suck on the skin there.

"Naughty, Mr. Prins," she murmured as she watched him mark her. He chuckled but did not draw away immediately.

"I just had my tongue inside of you and you're telling me that giving you a hickey is naughty?"

"I think it's not very proper…"

He snorted, running the tip of his finger along the mark he'd just left.

"I think none of this was very proper . Propriety is highly overrated I think."

"Oh?"

"With you, yes."

"So you liked my surprise?"

He kissed her thigh, grazing both of them with the backs of his hands as he stood. His eyes focused on her breasts for a moment before meeting her face. He smirked. "Begrudgingly."

She tilted her head back then and laughed, moving a hand to the front of his trousers between his legs.

"That did not sate you for the moment?" he asked.

"Hardly."

"That is exceedingly good to know," he said.

And surprising.

He realized they hadn't actually had sex but prolonged, lengthy sessions with women vocal enough to say they wanted more did not happen.

"We do have a son you indicated would be needing you soon, though."

"Yes."

"See to him, let me finish what I'm doing here and I will come to you so we can pick up where we left off."

"Promise?"

"You either overestimate my ability to resist you, or underestimate your appeal."

He helped her off the table, straightening the shirt around her but leaving it unbuttoned.

He summoned her robes, realizing only now it was the cloak she was fond of. He'd just assumed it was a set of robes earlier. He held it out for her.

"Do not fix it," he said, when she started working one of the buttons on his shirt she wore.

"Oh?"

"Mm," he said. "It will not be remaining on much longer anyway."

She flushed then, and he chuckled as he dipped his head to kiss her. She slid her arms around his neck, drawing him deeper into the kiss. She groaned none too softly at the taste of herself on his lips and tongue. He responded in kind, feeling himself grow even harder at the idea of her enjoying even that.

"Are you sure you don't want me to, um, return the favor?" she whispered against his lips.

"Not here," he whispered, drawing away a little. He slid some of her hair behind her ear. "You have not done any of this. Am I correct in that assumption?"

"You are."

"While the idea of your mouth on me there, and anywhere else, is arousing as hell, I do not want your first time doing that to be on your hands and knees as if you're …"

"You did it."

He slid a finger under her chin. "Because I wanted to please you. I had this attractive woman - my wife - disrobing in front of me. If we were in our true time I would perhaps not think twice, but as we are not." He paused, trying to explain it. He for once was finding it difficult to think clearly. "I am the employed one. You are reliant on me. I do not want submission to be a role in our … baser activities. I was going to say bedroom, but as you just proved they don't have to be restricted to the bedroom."

"Okay," she said.

She nodded as if she understood what he was trying to say. He was glad. He had never allowed anyone to do to him what she was suggesting she wanted to do. No one had ever pushed to go down on him during his encounters, and it was not a position he'd wanted to be in. Vulnerable when the witch was not.

"I have never done that before, by the way. So, if there were things I could, or should, have done differently."

"Mm, I'll let you know next time."

"Next time?"

She laughed, kissing his jaw. "Well, you know, to compare and contrast."

"I see."

"And you did say you're a visual learner."

"Indeed."

"I think that might require very close visuals."

He chuckled.

"I repeat again," he whispered, kissing her ear. "If I was truly a man from this time I'd be dead from what you're suggesting alone!"

"Maybe we can modernize them!"

"Let's keep it our secret. And let them wonder what you do that puts me in a good mood. Now go see to Thomas. I'll be an hour, an hour and a half tops. I'd say I'll hurry, but you know that I cannot."

"Aye aye, Captain," she said, saluting him.

It wasn't nearly as effective a gesture considering she was essentially standing naked in front of him.

"Oh, and Marie," he said.

"Yes," she said, as she slid her cloak more tightly over her shoulders and drew it around her.

"Since you're feeling … obedient."

"Obedient? Really?"

"Insolence, remember!" She laughed then. "Keep the shoes."

She glanced at them then and then back up to his face.

"Yeah, sure," she said, flushing again. And he liked very much that he put it there, and that his request was seemingly not offensive to her. He truly had no idea what the rules were for this . Hell, he sincerely hoped there were none. Evidence of her allowing him to go down on her in his lab pointed to hopefully very few at least.

She fed and changed Thomas, letting him stay up for a bit. She knew that Severus had work to finish, and the longer Thomas was up, the later he'd sleep. (In theory anyway.) This was the earliest she was attempting to put him to bed for the night. Likely, he'd be awake long before four in the morning, but good lord if what he'd done with his mouth was any indication of the rest, being woken up at that hour would be worth every second for the rest of it.

Once Thomas was down and she was sure he was comfortable and everything. Well, then she didn't quite know what to do with herself. She'd pretty blatantly told him that she wanted to have sex with him.

Here.

Tonight.

Now.

She cast a cleansing spell on the shoes. She hadn't worn them often, only once before tonight that she could recall, but they had walked around some in Limerick the night she'd worn them. She decided to get into bed then after shedding her cloak. The shirt was still on but unbuttoned as it was when she'd left him. Thank God Thomas was too young to pay attention to her nakedness.

She dropped her left hand to a breast, catching a glimpse of her engagement and wedding rings in the candlelight as she moved to circle a nipple as he'd done with his tongue. She'd had no idea even that could be arousing. When Viktor had tried to touch her, it'd always been somewhat clumsy and rough. Not rough, as in he was trying to hurt her, just not as gentle as she might have preferred. Tender. She'd never done that before, she didn't want it to be so … matter of fact.

It had been very little to get aroused by at any rate. And she'd never found the … right way to touch herself. Books just weren't the way to learn such things for this it seemed. She could make herself feel good and bring herself off, sure, but he'd made it feel very different than anything she'd ever done to herself.

She slid her right hand lower, over her abdomen and found the spot on her inner thigh she knew he'd left a hickey. She bit her lower lip, groaning softly at the memory of him doing that and how good it felt, even if she knew it was somewhat naughty. (Though he was right, why she viewed that as being any naughtier than him going down on her, she wasn't sure.)

She heard him return to their rooms and debated about moving her hands, but decided not to. Somehow she didn't think he'd take offense to her touching herself.

"Starting without me?" he quipped from the doorway after watching her for a minute.

She knew she was blushing horribly at the look in his eyes. That look coming from him. He did not look offended or upset. She slid her hand that was touching the mark on her thigh to her mons, her palm covering it so she could run her middle finger between her lips.

"Mm, maybe you weren't fast enough."

"I'm not sure that I want the word fast uttered regarding our lovemaking even jokingly, Wife."

She liked the sound of that immensely. Especially right now.

"So you don't want me to tell you to hurry up and get over here, Husband."

"Now that is an acceptable use if I ever heard one."

"You're talking too much!"

"Oh the irony," he said, wandlessly removing his robe and the rest of his clothes, barring his boxers. She kind of wished he hadn't left them on, but a part of her was … relieved he did. There was so much of him to focus on without what was under his boxers in play. "Of you telling me I'm too wordy."

She smirked, doing nothing to hide the fact that she was very much enjoying looking at him. She bit her lower lip as she took in the area covered by his boxers. They weren't that thick so she could see very plainly the shape of his cock through them. Hardening if she wasn't mistaken.

"If you plan on getting laid tonight, you might want to mind what comes out of your mouth next."

"Good thing I don't plan on anything coming out of my mouth for the rest of the night, only into it."

"Is that right?" she asked, dipping her finger ever so slightly inside of her. It wasn't enough. Now that she took the initiative to get them here she wanted, well, all of it. He seemed to enjoy the view. That ultimately led to her enjoying him enjoying the view.

"Are you wet for me, Marie Rose?"

"Come find out how much the answer to that question is yes."

"And I repeat," he murmured as he finally joined her on the bed. "I'd be dead."

"Good thing this progressive witch found a progressive wizard then, don't you think?"

"Good thing for him. Now, I can think of far better things than your own finger to be put to use at readying you for me."

"Can you now?"

"I can."

"Well, show me then." He slid next to her, running his hand along her arm. "And Erik," she whispered.

"Yes," he murmured as he set his hand over hers so his middle finger slid inside of her with her own.

"I'm already ready."

"Now it's my turn to say show me."

She slid her hand out from under his, causing both of them to groan because it dislodged his finger from being inside of her, too. She pushed on his chest, encouraging him to move to his back which he did.

She eyed him lying there, licking her lips as she got to his boxers. He gave a low chuckle, which turned into a hiss as she reached for one of his nipples and circled it with her finger. She leaned in then, echoing the movement with her tongue and then did the same to the other one. His hands went to her hair and she gave a soft groan as his fingers ran through it. She'd thought of tying it back, but was now very glad she hadn't.

She straddled him, rubbing herself against his boxers.

"I think you forgot to remove something."

"Not yet," she whispered.

He arched a brow at her, but said nothing more. And then she began to explore. He had to know she would.

She touched and kissed and licked everywhere she could reach from his forehead and cheeks to neck and jaw to shoulder and collarbone to arms and each finger one by one to his chest trailing a path along his abdomen and sides. She traced a scar or two, but didn't focus on them specifically. She shifted off of him then, moving closer to his feet and doing the same to his legs and even the tops of his feet.

"Roll over," she whispered.

He did as asked without question or complaint and she began the process again, this time going foot to head. Finally she rested her hands at either hip, took a deep breath which he evidently heard because he chuckled and she slid the boxers down.

"I'm not scared," she said defiantly. A bit apprehensive maybe. Not about doing this. Just all of it. It was like this huge thing hanging there, knowing that likely one day they would. But when?

"I didn't say a word," he said from underneath her.

She slid the boxers off with her hands. She didn't want magic part of this tonight for some reason. She hopped off the bed for a moment as she drew them off of first one foot and then the other, dropping them on the floor.

And she stared.

It wasn't even the scars, though there were plenty of those. She barely paid them any mind, other than thinking him agreeing to come back here to be father to the man who'd been responsible for those scars was pretty incredible in her mind. No, the scars weren't on her mind really other than just being a sum of the parts that made up his form. It was the sheer … perfection of him.

To her.

She realized others probably mightn't find his form attractive. Thin, slender, more on the wiry side than athletically built. Certainly, he'd filled out a bit since they'd arrived here. She imagined better rest and everything else attributed to that. Not that he didn't have muscles. She knew he did, she did not envy anyone who mistook his physique to indicate weakness or his skills being lesser than. More than an acceptable number of scars and blemishes marred his rather pale skin. Some would probably find it too pale. (Thus the rumours of his being a vampire.)

"Hermione," he whispered, sounding … uncertain, exposed.

She realized she'd been staring for probably longer than was appropriate.

"You're beautiful," she whispered.

"I think I am the one who is supposed to be saying that."

"It's true," she said.

She slid back onto the bed then, straddling his legs again so she could pay attention to his arse. She hadn't touched him there yet. He gave a groan. Surprise? Arousal? Both? As she traced along him there, over one cheek and the other dipping her finger just ever so slightly into the top of the crevice there. That made him shudder.

Interesting.

She slid her hand down, cupping his arse and reaching between his legs so her fingertips grazed his sack, causing his hips to buck.

Interesting again.

She leaned down then, hands sliding to either hip slowly as she kissed one cheek, grazing it with her tongue before moving to the other one.

"Fuck," he muttered into the pillow and she couldn't help but snort at that. She hadn't expected that to come out of his mouth.

"And you said nothing more was going to come out of your mouth tonight," she quipped, grazing the tips of her breasts over his arse before she moved beside him.

"I will remember your insolence," he said.

"Mm, I can't wait. Now roll over."

"You are certain?"

"Do I seem uncertain? Really? I just kissed every inch of you but the few you probably actually wanted my attention on."

"It's more than just a few."

"That is exceedingly good to know. Turn over, Erik."

He did so, moving to drape an arm over his face as she proceeded to stare as she had when he was lying on his stomach.

"No, you don't. I had to watch you," she said.

"Entirely different. The female form, yours in particular, is … pretty to look at."

"You think I'm pretty to look at?"

"I wouldn't have agreed to this," he said, waving his left hand, specifically his ring finger to indicate his ring as well as where they were. "If I did not find you attractive, physically as well as mentally. Mind you, I didn't see you this way. I was able to admit you were an attractive specimen of the female persuasion. It was you I was concerned about. I never in a million years thought you'd agree."

She tilted her head then, letting a finger trail along his thigh, higher along it to his hip and then over to his pubic bone.

"Tease," he murmured.

"Evidently you like it," she said.

"Well, of course it and I like attention."

"Mm," she said, moving to straddle his legs again.

"Marie, it's a cock, or a penis if you prefer. It needs some stimulation to remain in the state it currently is."

"Really?" She glanced from his cock that did not seem to be showing any signs of deflating to his face. "It looks quite fine at the moment. I mean I've never seen one before, but it seems as if it's sufficiently erect to get the job done."

"It will not remain so indefinitely."

"And it won't come back?"

"That wasn't what I meant!" He closed his eyes with a shake of his head.

She laughed softly, taking advantage of his inattentiveness and lowered her mouth to lick his tip as she might an ice cream cone, swirling it with her tongue.

"Fuck me," he hissed.

She glanced up at him, tongue resting at the underside of his glans. She used her hand to cup his sack and feel the base of him while she licked the head, working her way lower until she met her hand and then she shifted her hand to the tip of him so she could lick lower.

"You do not have to…"

She gave his shaft a gentle squeeze, not hard but enough to tell him to be quiet. He obeyed. Interesting.

Her curiosities of the taste and feel of the actual … equipment satisfied she brought her lips to his tip again and took him into her mouth, causing his hips to thrust off the bed with a groan. Her mouth got wetter as she started working her way up and down his length as far as she could take him. There was quite a bit she couldn't take, but maybe with practice …

She never thought having too much saliva would be a turn on, but feeling him glide between her lips and thrusting into her slick mouth was arousing as hell.

"Hermione," he hissed. "You need to stop."

She brought her mouth to his tip again, letting her tongue lick the opening there and around it. She could taste him, and knew what he was saying.

"Really, Witch. You need to stop."

"What if I don't want to?"

"While I would love to finish that way, as I never have, and you doing that is incredibly arousing, you and I both know that Thomas will not sleep indefinitely and I have to get up in the morning. As this is an unexpected turn in our relationship that I hadn't planned for. I'm not sure twice in a night wouldn't put me in an extremely foul mood tomorrow."

"You mean being able to sit down at breakfast knowing that you came twice, once in my mouth wouldn't put you in a good mood?"

He seemed to think on that for a moment.

"Another time I would gladly endeavour to find out. I, however, feel as though I've waited an eternity to get to be inside of my wife."

"Oh well, why didn't you just say that." She licked his shaft one last time before sliding beside him again. "I'd love to taste you, just by the way."

"You just want to be able to satisfy all of your curiosities."

"Well, yes, but I want to satisfy them with you and the semen from your cock."

He snorted. "Those words should not be coming out of your mouth."

"Why not?"

He shifted them so he was on top of her, making his way down her body in much the same way she had just done to him. He wasn't quite as extensive as she was, but the focus on her breasts and then "oh yeah," she said when he was between her legs again. This was met with a chuckle before he licked the spot she suspected the hickey he'd left earlier was before settling between her legs. A wave of his hand and the heels he'd requested she keep on were removed from her feet.

"Mm," he said, glancing up at her. "You truly found doing that arousing?"

Was that weird? Wrong? She wouldn't think so. Shouldn't pleasing him turn her on? Make her wet for him to be inside of her?

She nodded, biting her lower lip.

"That is immensely pleasing to know. I have never," he shrugged. "My limited number of experiences have been the deed and little more. They assumed I'd ready myself and vice versa. So, that a woman is this wet without a charm…."

She slid a hand to his head, pushing some hair away from his face. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen him look … vulnerable before. It was odd. He was always so strong. Nothing seemed to ruffle him. "No charms. I know you know that, but if you want to look at the last few spells I've cast with my wand you can. You turn me on, Severus," she whispered.

Hail Morgana and all that was holy, that cruelly acidic, sharp-witted tongue of his was good at more than talking.

"You were implying you've never done this before," she said, thrusting her hips against him. He didn't answer her, but shook his head which made his nose pass over her clit in a most enjoyable way. "Do that again," she cried.

And he did. Again and again until, gripping the sheets beneath her she came undone against his tongue and nose.

He gave her clit one last swipe of his tongue before using it to trace a path up along her torso, to each breast, her collarbone and neck until he found her jaw and finally her ear. "You are sure?"

She slid her legs over his calves, arching against his waist and his still hard cock. She shifted her hips a bit, rubbing against him.

"I want to feel that inside of me, Erik. Now."

He settled his hand against her abdomen then, casting the charm.

"It wouldn't look good if you came up with child just two months after supposedly having one," he said to her arched eyebrow.

"While it does happen, thank you for protecting me." She was ashamed she hadn't thought of it herself. She did not want a second child this soon!

He nodded and then found her mouth with his before sheathing himself inside of her. She gasped at the feel of him as he thrust in and out of her in shallow, gentle movements. It felt … full, a bit tight, but good.

"Too slow," she moaned into his mouth.

"It is your first time."

"I don't care! You'll give me a healing potion when we're done." She slid her hands to his cheeks, drawing his face away from hers slightly. "I am not glass nor am I weak. I will not break, Erik. Harder, damn it."

He turned his cheek so he could kiss the palm of one of her hands.

"I am also trying to prolong…"

"Oh, God, we have the rest of our lives for that. Just fuck me with that stiff hard cock of yours. Please. I worked hard to get it that way, you know. I want to feel you."

What she really wanted, and she could see by the darkness in his eyes that he was close to that point. She wanted Severus Snape for a few moments to lose control, to let his careful guard down, to wipe that vulnerability or the thought that a charm was required for any part of this other than to prevent a baby, and take pleasure in her. With her.

It took him a second. He was debating with himself. She could see it, feel the tenseness in his legs and arms around her. It was likely ingrained in him that he shouldn't treat a woman, his wife, in that way. She appreciated that, but she wanted him . And then he gave in - to the moment and to her request.

He drew away a bit then, gathering her legs around him, adjusting their position and the way he was hitting inside of her.

"Oh," she said.

He gave her a look of concern, but she shook her head against the pillow. He shifted her a bit more and then she did nothing but moan for what seemed like hours as he thrust in and out of her. He shifted a bit, freeing up one of his hands so he could reach for her clit and she gasped. She was pretty sure she begged him for going on five minutes to let her finish because he kept teasing her.

Finally, he did let her. He whispered her name shortly after, his thrusts slowing and eventually stopping. She reached for his chest, trailing a finger along the light sheen of moisture there. The result of making love to her.

She hummed. She really hummed.

"I demand an encore," she murmured with a cheeky smile.

"Do you?"

"Mm hmm."

"Tonight?"

"If you're sure you won't be in too foul of a mood in the morning as a result."

"I find myself surprisingly rejuvenated."

"Do you?"

"Give me a few minutes and I will prove it."

"I don't need a few minutes," she said, waggling her eyebrows at him.

"Pushy."

"Yup." She ran a fingertip over the sleeve of the shirt she still had on. She found it interesting he'd removed her shoes but not it. "Can I keep the shirt?"

"I could be convinced, under one condition."

"Mm. And that would be?"

"It is now your preferred choice of nighttime attire."

"Just like tonight?"

His eyes darkened again, so he knew exactly what she was asking. The shirt and nothing else. "Exactly like tonight," he replied simply. "The accompanying shoes withstanding."

"I can abide by that."

"Then you may keep it."

"Red's always been my favorite color," she said and he chuckled.

"Oh, and Marie Rose," he whispered.

"Yes, Erik."

"Happy Valentine's Day."

"I thought you deserved better than just cookies."

He gave her an almost horrified look, and she set her fingers against his lips to stop him from saying anything. That hadn't come out the way she meant it.

"That is not why I did this. I wanted you. It was like this huge elephant between us. I sleep next to you every night and have for months. This is my home because you're here. I couldn't do it anymore," she shrugged. "I chose my - our - first time to be with you, here tonight, and it just happened to be Valentine's Day."

He sighed, obviously relieved by her response.

"You are sure you are well enough for a second time."

"I am. I know this potions master, you see, and I know he'll give me the real good stuff so I won't feel a twinge of discomfort tomorrow. For now, I like that twinge. The important question, Erik Magnus. Are you?"

"I'm coming around to the idea. Funny what feeling you naked beneath me does for a libido."

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com