Severus' arse was cherry red; Hermione rather liked it that way because it was the closest thing to a blush that she could engender in him.
"Tell me again," she ordered, while straddling him so that she had better access to his arse, "why you deserve to come."
He didn't reply, but then, she hadn't expected him to; mutinous silence was part of their game.
She smacked him again, enjoying his shudder and the way his breathing sped. Yes, he was almost ready to be fucked. She'd make him respond to her.
No, I'll make him beg, beg for me.