Entitled

Chapter 19

Potions Class

The dungeon classroom was dimly lit, the flickering light of the torches casting shadows on the stone walls. The familiar scent of various potions and ingredients filled the air as you took your seat in the front row, your eyes never leaving Severus.

As Professor Snape began his lecture on the properties of Draught of Living Death, you couldn't help but let your thoughts wander. Your gaze fixed on him, you bit your lower lip, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

You reached out to him telepathically, knowing he could hear you. Severus, I can't stop thinking about this morning. You shifted slightly in your seat, allowing your skirt to ride up just enough to be suggestive. I'm so wet right now, thinking about you.

Snape faltered for a brief moment, his voice catching as he continued his explanation. He shot you a stern look, his dark eyes narrowing, but you could see the flicker of desire beneath his composed exterior.

You're making it very hard to concentrate, Professor, you continued, your mental voice dripping with seduction. I need you so badly.

Severus's jaw tightened, and he paused mid-sentence to give you a look that clearly said, Stop it now. But you were relentless. You crossed your legs slowly, the friction adding to your arousal, and sent him another thought. I can feel myself getting wetter with every word you say.

His hand gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white. Enough, he mentally growled, trying to maintain his composure. But you could feel the strain in his control, the way his desire warred with his need to remain professional.

You leaned forward slightly, allowing your blouse to open just a bit more. Imagine if you touched me right now, how wet I am for you. Just one touch, Severus.

Snape's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and lust. He turned his back to the class, pretending to adjust some ingredients on his desk. You are in so much trouble, he thought, his voice filled with frustration and longing.

Spank me, you teased, your thoughts filled with vivid images of what you wanted him to do to you.

Finally, Severus had enough. With a great effort, he erected a mental barrier, blocking your intrusive thoughts.

He turned back to the class, his voice cold and authoritative as he continued the lecture. You could see the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders were rigid with barely suppressed desire.

But you couldn't resist one last push. I have to take care of this after class, Professor, you thought, knowing he could still sense your presence despite the barrier.

The classroom was empty now, the last student having left a few moments ago. The silence was thick with tension as Severus turned to you, his dark eyes blazing with barely controlled desire.

"What is wrong with you?" he said, his voice low and dangerous.

You stepped closer, feeling the heat radiating from his body. "I'm ovulating, that's what's wrong with me. I can't help myself."

He took a step towards you, closing the distance between you. "You cannot provoke me in class like this," he warned, his voice a husky whisper.

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with challenge and desire. "Or what?"

Severus's eyes darkened, and he took a deep breath, visibly regaining his composure. He stepped back, putting a deliberate distance between you.

"Go to class," he commanded, his voice cold and authoritative. "And you better hurry, because I'm not writing you another note."