Becoming Familiar with a Man of Misery

Chapter 83 ~ Preliminary Connections

Severus opened the potions cabinet and took out the yellow bottle of colonic, then reached under the vanity and took out two bars of natural soap. He continued undressing quickly, peeling off his robes, shirt, trousers and boxers quickly, then picked up the soap and colonic, and carried them over to the shower, grabbing his and Hermione’s washcloths off the rack as he passed. The Potions Master pulled open the opaque glass and stepped into the large, tiled shower, depositing the soap and colonic in the shower caddy as he did so. He had a shower seat built into the wall to accommodate Hermione when she was pregnant. It was about to come in handy.

Severus turned on the water and mixed it until it was just above lukewarm. He didn’t want to raise any steam, but it was a good strong stream. The wizard let the water run over him, soaking his pale body thoroughly. He didn’t pick up the soap yet. He was waiting for his wife to arrive.

Hermione had just finished changing little Eli when the house elf walked into the bedroom. She was just about to change Demetrius and looked up.

“Hello, Eli,” she said, as the elf tickled little Eli through the crib bars before he approached her.

“Hello, Mistress. The Master wants you now. He sent Eli to fetch you,” the elf said.

Hermione frowned slightly as she opened Demetrius’ diaper.

“What does he want, Eli?” she asked the elf as she removed the old diaper and lifted the baby’s bottom so she could clean him thoroughly with a soft, wet and slightly soapy washcloth. Just because the diapers were self-cleaning didn’t mean they left the baby sanitary. Hermione wasn’t taking any chances with her babies.

“He wants the Mistress,” Eli responded evasively as he picked up a clean diaper and watched Hermione pat the baby dry and rub a bit of cornstarch on his bottom, in the creases of his legs and around his penis. Eli handed her the diaper and Hermione put it on the gurgling baby, kissing his feet afterwards and smiling at him tenderly.

As if he knew he was missing out on some affection, little Eli let out an aggravated cry from his crib, his arms and feet whirring fitfully. Eli gently lifted him out of the crib and held him close. The baby quieted. Eli then put him in the carrier, then coaxed Demetrius from Hermione and placed him in the other carrier next to his brother. Both babies blinked at the small, blurry figure in front of them as Eli tucked the blankets around them.

“You goes to Master, Mistress,” Eli said, waving his clawed hand toward the bedroom door, “He is in the bedroom. Eli will watch over the little Masters.”

“All right Eli,” Hermione said smiling at the elf affectionately.

Eli really was a wonder with the babies, and a godsend. Hermione kissed each baby on the forehead and gave them a final coo and tickle before exiting the bedroom. She wondered what Severus wanted.

Her husband spent the entire day working on his lab, and would come in at night exhausted. He’d give her a quick kiss, maybe steal a suckle off her breasts then go right to sleep. He still hadn’t had sex with her and it was almost a month since she had the boys. She was ready for him two weeks ago. Shit. He probably wanted another backrub or something.

Hermione walked into the bedroom and looked around. She didn’t see the Potions Master.

“Severus?” she called. Then she realized the shower was running. She walked into the bathroom and saw Severus’ long, lean body standing under the spigot through the opaque glass. She looked at him longingly.

“Severus?” she called. He seemed not to hear her. She walked up to the shower and rapped on the glass.

“Severus, you wanted me?” she called to him.

Suddenly the glass door flew open and a pale hand reached out, yanking her into the shower.

Hermione shrieked as the water poured over her, soaking her hair and clothes through.

“Yes I do, wife,” Severus purred at her, water running down his face.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Hermione spluttered at him, mad as a wet cat.

“Getting ready to fuck my wife,” the Potions Master replied, ripping her blouse open.

Hermione shrieked again as he grinned down at her, sliding her blouse down her arms and throwing it into the corner. He began tugging at her jeans. Hermione’s temperature seemed to shoot up a hundred degrees as her husband popped the button on her pants and pulled at the flaps, forcing her zipper down, then sliding her jeans and knickers over her thighs and calves. The witch held on to his shoulder as she stepped out of them. The Potions Master kicked them to the corner then pulled her bra roughly over her head, threw it after the jeans and grabbed her, lifting his wife and kissing her passionately beneath the rushing water.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and battled his tongue hungrily, her body on fire. Gods, it was about time. She could feel his hard cock against her thigh and groaned into his mouth. Severus put her down and reached into the shower caddy and removed the yellow colonic bottle, offering it to her. Hermione looked at it, then at Severus’ hot eyes and took it from him. She was beyond caring at this point. She was willing to do anything with him, for him.

She stepped a little way out of the stream of water, opened the bottle and drank it down, handing it back to him. Severus returned it to the caddy. He then handed her his washcloth and a bar of soap, and took hers in his own pale hand and began to lather it.

“Let’s get clean before we get dirty, wife,” he breathed applying the soapy rag to her breasts, caressing more than bathing, fondling them roughly beneath the washcloth.

Hermione went straight for his cock with her soapy rag and he hissed as she ran it back and forth over his shaft. The lather grew as did their passion. Some suds were going to fly.

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“Feed you?” Remus said incredulously.

“Yes, feed me,” Isadora said, her dark eyes on him. “You are at my beck and call, remember? I feel like being fed. Surely you can do that.”

The werewolf looked down at her. Yes, he could feed her. He just wasn’t sure he should.

“Isadora, why do you want me to feed you?” he asked her. Isadora frowned at him.

“You aren’t acting very much like a waiter, Remus. You aren’t supposed to question your charge’s requests. You are supposed to fulfill them,” she said evenly.

Remus’ eyes glittered at her for a moment, then he pulled up the other chair and sat down close to the witch. He picked up the knife and fork, cut her steak into bite-sized pieces then speared a piece of meat and offered it to her.

Isadora shook her head.

“No, I want to start with the asparagus,” she said in a low voice.

Remus pushed the meat off the fork with the knife, then stuck the tines into a spear of the long, green vegetable and offered it to the witch.

Isadora shook her head again.

“No. Not the fork. I want you to feed me with your fingers, Remus,” she said.

The werewolf looked as if he were going to protest at first. Then he picked up a piece of asparagus between his fingers and brought it to her mouth, his eyes focused on her face intently, and his jaw tightening as she opened her lips and gently closed them over the head of the vegetable, sucking at it gently before biting down and chewing slowly, her dark eyes fixed to his.

Remus visibly swallowed as Isadora licked her lips.

“Delicious,” she purred.

“Yes,” Remus agreed, his eyes fixed on her mouth as if hypnotized as the witch bit into the vegetable again, sliding her lips up it and biting the stem a short distance from his fingers, chewing rather sensuously, then swallowing. Then she went for the last bit, her lips closing over his fingers and sucking the last piece from between them. Remus felt the gentle suction on his fingers, and let out something that sounded very much like a whine. Then he took a deep breath and sat back.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it Remus?” Isadora said in a voice that flowed over the wizard like silk. Remus licked his lips but didn’t say anything.

“More,” Isadora said throatily. “A carrot this time.”

Remus looked down at the carrots. She had wanted them scraped and steamed whole. They were much thicker than the asparagus spears, and certainly more phallic. Remus picked one up and brought the narrow end to Isadora’s mouth.

“No. I like the thick end first,” the witch breathed.

Remus shifted in his seat as his erection returned. He was glad his lower half was hidden by the tabletop. His cock was huge…there was no way Isadora wouldn’t have noticed his arousal. He wished he were wearing robes instead of the trousers Rosmerta had provided him. He turned the carrot around so the large end faced the witch. He brought it to Isadora’s mouth.

Instead of moving forward to bite the vegetable, Isadora made a little “o” with her lips.

“Stick it in, Remus,” she purred.

Dear Merlin.

Remus could smell Isadora’s arousal before there was any physical manifestation of it. He could sense the rise in her body temperature, hear the increasing beat of her heart, and the deeper inhalations of her breath. And every nerve ending in his body was aware of her.

Biting his lip slightly, Remus pushed the carrot into the witch’s mouth slowly and gently, another small whining sound emitting from his throat as her lips wrapped around it. Isadora’s eyes were glittering at him, and half lidded, impossibly black. He felt as if he could fall into them and tumble endlessly into their depths.

Isadora slid her mouth over the carrot until her lips touched the werewolf’s fingers, then she moved back a ways and bit off the carrot midway, chewing slowly. Delicious tingling raced up and down her limbs as she looked at the werewolf. She remembered feeling this way for Darius, when he was good to her. It had been so long since she had felt this kind of desire for a man. Remus continued to stare at her, his entire body tensed as if he were ready to spring.

“You are attracted to me, Isadora. I can smell you,” he said softly.

Isadora swallowed.

“I dream about you, Remus,” she said.

The werewolf closed his eyes and turned his head from her.

“I can guarantee you, Isadora, I am nothing like your dreams. You have to stop this,” he replied, sounding as if he were in pain.

“Feed me, Remus, she demanded. “I want meat now.”

Remus’ eyes flew open at the suggestiveness of the witch’s statement. He felt as if he were in the presence of a succubus. Isadora’s eyes drifted down to her plate, looking at the steak. It was very juicy. Remus picked up a piece of it, and Isadora opened her mouth again. Remus longed to taste that mouth, explore it. Isadora licked the piece of meat before she drew it into her mouth. A bit of juice fell from it, landing on the swell of her breast and pooling there. Remus’ eyes followed it down, and Isadora looked down and saw the droplet. How fortuitous.

“Could you get that for me, Remus?” she asked softly, offering her breast. The werewolf picked up a napkin. Isadora pulled back.

“No,” she said.

Remus looked at her and put the napkin down. He then extended his index finger and slowly reached for spot that marred her smooth pale skin. Isadora drew back further.

“No,” she said again, her dark eyes looking at him, trying to silently convey what she wanted from him.

Remus stared at her a moment, and leaned forward, lowering his head hesitatingly. Isadora moved forward again.

Every sensibility the werewolf had was screaming at him to stop this, don’t let the witch make him respond like this, but the animal inside him was snarling for closer contact and he gave in to the urge, pressing his lips to her exposed flesh and gently sucking the juice from her breast. Her scent filled his nostrils, rich, earthy female.

Isadora shuddered when the werewolf’s mouth touched her skin so gently, and suckled for a moment. She couldn’t help the gasp that flew from her. Remus raised his head slowly. He was very close to her face, to her mouth. He could feel her warm, sweet breath flow over his chin. His eyes were still gentle, but there was a kind of feral light shining from their depths.

“Isadora, if I could go now, I would,” he said to her softly. “We both know what we want from each other. Believe me, Isadora…you are the most alluring witch I have ever come in contact with…but I am no one’s dream lover. I am a nightmare. I would be a nightmare, Isadora.”

“I know what a nightmare is, Remus,” she whispered, drawn to his closeness, “I lived in one for many years with a man who once was my dream lover…until he changed into someone…something else. I don’t believe you could change like that Remus.”

“Isadora…gods. You don’t…you don’t understand,” he said moving into her mouth, electricity crackling through both witch and wizard as their mouths connected, Remus delving into Isadora’ sweetness and heat tenderly, the whining noise returning as the witch responded to his gentle possession.

Even as he succumbed and kissed Isadora, the werewolf thought this wasn’t good, but gods so damn good. He kept his hands in his lap, knowing if he placed his hands anywhere on her body, the situation might quickly escalate. He sensed no reluctance in the witch, no hesitation…and that made this situation volatile. Helplessly his eyes cut to the settee against the wall, and then he closed them tightly and broke the kiss.

Isadora leaned forward, totally swept away by the sweet hesitation, then surrender in the wizard’s kiss. Like Darius’ first kiss, Remus’ kiss made the witch want more contact with the werewolf…malady and Severus be damned.

Remus pulled back from the beautiful witch. For all his apparent calm, his heart was pounding in his chest, and he couldn’t remember wanting to fuck a witch more desperately in his life.

“It’s been more than seventeen years since a wizard’s touched me, Remus. And more than forty years since anyone’s made love to me the way I need,” she said to him softly as he drew away.

Isadora’s timetable was correct. Darius became abusive to her immediately after Severus was born. Sex between them was never because she wanted him after that, but because she belonged to him. Her husband ceased to care what she needed. Severus was in his early forties now.

Remus found it hard to believe that this lovely witch had been untouched for more than seventeen years, and unsatisfied for more than forty. He looked at her in disbelief. There had to be a reason for it.

“Why, Isadora? That is a lifetime. You’re such a beautiful, desirable woman,” he said in a low voice…his heart going out to the witch. That also meant she had been without companionship for a very, very long time. “How could you be alone so long?”

The witch’s eyes glistened with tears, but she didn’t cry.

“It’s such a long and troubled story, Remus,” she said softly. “Are you a Legilimens?”

Remus nodded slowly.

“Then I’ll show you why,” she said, leaning toward him.

Remus’ eyes glistened as well, because of the sympathy he felt for the witch. He had a feeling he was about to see something terrible…something awful the witch had suffered through. Something that made her be alone. Hesitatingly the wizard brought his fingers to Isadora’s temple.

“Legilimens,” he whispered.

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A/N: Whew. I’m working on the lemons ya’ll. Be patient. I’m a little tired. Next chapter will be hotter. Please review.

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The Burning Pen

Becoming Familiar with a Man of Misery
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence. Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately. You are not welcome here. The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 84

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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