Challenge: Bruised Peach
A/N: no beta, no real editing, just throwing 100 or so words in the air and printing them out the way they landed. David Bowie writes song lyrics this way, you know.
The hand that drifted over the rounded flesh was warm. He smiled pleasurably, knowing she was nervous, and trembling.
“Such a lovely shape.” The words were velvet, sliding over the soft bottom presented like an offering. “Round, smooth, sweet as a peach.”
The smack; the cry. The blush, rising on the tender surface.
“Ah, but bruised peaches are the sweetest, love. How much can you endure before you yield? How much is pleasure, how much is pain?”
Severus looked up at his lover, his eyes glazed, his tone pleading. “More, Mistress. Please, …”
Hermione smiled, only too happy to oblige him.