The Wanker Part 2
Chapter 2: Okay… so I’m the Wanker
Merlin, she tastes sweet; like warm cocoa melting into my mouth on a cold night.
Oh.
This isn’t real, it can’t be. She’s stopping. Merlin, Hermione, don’t stop. Okay, not stopping, just moving. Her body is cemented to mine and I know she can feel how hard I am against her stomach.
Mmmm.
Her tongue slides toward my ear. Merlin, it’s hot! I can’t take much more of this. I’ve never been so bleeding hard. Those lips. They’re so soft and tempting. That’s how we got here, against the wall just outside my building. I couldn’t help it. We were walking in silence toward my flat then she grabbed my hand with no warning. Her skin felt fiery and smooth, like burning velvet. She began stroking her thumb across my knuckles and I looked at her, slightly taken aback.
It was the bite that did me in. She gave me this serious, desire-filled look and then bit her lip. That was it. I was done for. Without asking, I captured her lips. Zeus, they felt like heaven. She didn’t resist me, to my great shock, but she should have. After I made a complete arse of myself tonight, she should have slapped me or at least hexed me into next month, but she didn’t. She did what she’d always done; she stood by me. Even after I assumed, I know… ‘arse of u and me,’ Weasley. Okay I shouldn’t have forgotten my clichés, but I did and I assumed that she was fucking the man accompanying her to the Victory Celebration. Her cousin. I’m such a prat. I let my jealousy override my sense. Again. I’m good at that, but she didn’t mention anything. She just linked her arm in mine then followed me home. She’d told me her intention without really saying much, but she couldn’t have been serious. At least that’s what I thought until she bit her lip seductively then welcomed my tongue into her mouth.
I’d only intended to kiss her. It's something I’ve wanted to do for almost ten years, but when her tongue met mine and I heard the sweet moan escaping from the back of her throat, I couldn’t help but take it further. I’d thought I’d lead her, make her weak from my touch, but the sweet, smart, reserved Hermione that I once knew so well seems to have gone on holiday. This is a side of her I have never seen before but always hoped was there, just beyond the surface of her reserved exterior. Merlin, she’s incredible. Her hands grip my hips toward her and it takes every bit of restraint I have not to strip her bare and push inside her right here, out in the alley. Sweet Godric, she’s grabbing my arse! I can’t take this. If I don’t stop her now, the whole of London will get a sight of the Minister’s son they’d never want to see.
I pant and low mewing coos pass her lips.
“Ron?” She begs. FUCK! Okay, think, Weasley, just be calm. First things first.
“Hermione, I think we should go up to my flat.”
“Sweet Circe, yes!”
________________________________________
Okay, I’ve got to be subtle. I wouldn’t want her to know how utterly desperate I am to be inside her. Besides, she doesn’t really want that to happen. I’m sure of it. Shite. She grabs my hand again. Mmmm, that touch. How the bloody hell can one touch make my entire body shiver? I can’t even look at her, even though I can feel her eyes scanning over me. I swallow hard and hold the door to the lobby for her. She’s in front of me now. Her hips sway seductively as she walks toward the lift. Bollocks! Does she know how tight her arse is? Does she have any idea that her hips swirl slightly as her legs lead her forward? I am one dead wizard. And my body knows it.
It’s betraying me.
He betrays me, the randy sod. He has a mind completely separate from mine. With a simple touch from Hermione, he twitches. One slight, nearly silent moan and he stands at attention. I can’t control him. Domination is elusive to me now and all she’s doing is walking. Fuck me. If this is the reaction she rouses from some heavy snogs and gentle touches, how the bloody hell am I going to control myself once I’m inside her? I whisper a moan. FUCK! Don’t think that!
“Ron? Are you okay?” she asks.
“What? Oh… yeah. I, uh, I think I’ve got a tickle in my throat.”
She nods then drifts lightly into the lift. Just as the doors begin to slide closed, they reopen and the large couple from the floor below me enter with their two even larger children behind them. Damn. This lift is small to begin with, but the size of the new occupants leaves even less space to move. Hmmm. Not too bad a position to be in. Hermione scoots close to me, trying to avoid the family of whales. She stands in front of me, her firm bottom hovering dangerously near my traitorous muscle. On second thought… Not now. Merlin, no. If you start up again, she’ll know, and I’ll have even more to feel guilty about in the morning.
I. Am. Dying.
She’s subtle, but cunning nonetheless. Oh, Gods, Hermione, don’t, I beg you. She can’t hear my thoughts and I can’t stop her. Not without the Blubber family hearing. She shifts her arse slowly, rousing the still slightly hard Traitor back into attention. Damn it. Stop. Okay, so I don’t want her to stop. But… FUCK! She scoots back further and I can feel the blood shifting quickly down my body. Up. Oh, fuck, stop! Up. No, no, no, not now! UP. Well, now, this is going to be embarrassing. Thank the Maker, the Blubbers will get off… eww, feck… I mean leave the lift one story before we do.
She backs further against me then lets out a small gasp when she feels that I’m already hard, and the Blubbers notice her squeak. She recovers quickly with a not-too-delicate cough and I can see the blush covering her cheeks.
“Not too brave, now, are you, love?” I whisper against her ear.
I can see her eyebrow arch cockily as she darts her eyes over her shoulder to look at me. She smirks. Oh shite. I shouldn’t have challenged her. The lift bell dings at the ninth floor. Five more to go… That’s good. She can’t do anything…
HOLY FUCK!
I know the Blubbers can hear the small whimper that releases from my throat as Hermione’s hand drifts behind her and those tiny digits start dancing up and down the front of my trousers.
What are you playing at? Why in the bloody hell are you doing this to me? Oh, right. I deserve it. I was King Supreme Prick tonight. But this, this is just… mean. She knows full well I won’t do anything in retaliation; not when Papa, Mama and Baby whales are in such close proximity.
Eleventh floor.
Stop it, Hermione… please stop.
Twelfth.
Merlin, kill me know!
Thirteenth.
Shite.
The Blubbers are leaving. That’s it. I’ll put an end to this. I see the plump bottom of the last Blubber walk out of the lift and I immediately jerk Hermione’s hips toward me but I’m quickly thwarted when the blond slag from the twentieth floor gets on. I push Hermione away and give a quick nod to the slag.
“Why, Mr. Weasley, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”
“He doesn’t.” Hermione quickly answers.
My throat tightens and my shoulders sag. The blond arches her eyebrow at Hermione and gives her a daring glare. I know this look. I know this slag. She’s been after me for weeks now, but I’ve never fancied hand-me-downs and she’d been handed down through nearly every bloke in this building.
“Oh?” the slag replies. “So if you’re not his girlfriend then what are you?”
“I don’t think that’s really any of your business… ”
“I’m his shag for the night, if you must know.”
My face is nearly purple now but I can’t help feeling a small tinge of pride mixing with my disappointment as the slag’s lips snarl and a loud huff rises from her chest. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? ‘Just a shag’? So that’s the game she’s playing. Immediately, the Traitor falls.
I walk quickly past the two women as the lift opens and I dart toward my door. Just a shag. Just a fucking shag. Humph… Well, I don’t need that. Not from her. She can bloody well sod off it she thinks I’m going be some sort of play…
“What’s up with you, Ron? You flew out of the lift as if your trousers were on fire.”
“Nope. Not anymore.”
I mean to slam the door in her face but she catches it with her foot. I throw my keys on the coffee table, then slump down on the sofa. I will not look in her eyes. I will not feel guilty anymore. She’s trying to punish me. She’s trying to make me pay for embarrassing her. Shite. Don’t walk over here. Just leave. Don’t sit next to me. Please don’t do this Hermione; I can’t let you…
“Are you going to tell me why you’re angry?”
She sits too close. Her knee brushes against mine and I jerk slightly. I fold my arms tightly across my chest and pout. That’s right, Weasley, act like a toddler. Shite, why not? I’m offended. Shouldn’t I act like I’m offended? No, you tosser, look what you did tonight. You should be licking her shoes. Oi… licking… Hermione, stop it!
“Are you… pouting, Ron?”
”NO!” That didn’t sound desperate, Weasley. I recover. “No. I’m… I’m just tired, I suppose.”
She’s not buying it. I know she’s not buying it. For fuck’s sake, Hermione, stop scooting toward me. You’ll awaken the Traitor!
“Tell me why you’re angry.” Shite. How do I get out of this now? I’m not wrong, am I?
“I’m not mad. I’m just… ”
“Tired?”
Fuck, don’t look at me like that!
“Ron, you’re not tired. I know that look. You’re angry.”
”No, I’m… ”
“Yes you are. You were fine before the blond got into the lift. Is she… she’s not…?”
“No! I’ve never… ”
“Then what is it?”
Fuck. Fine, if she wants to know.
“‘Just a shag’! You said you were just my ‘shag for the night’! Is that it, Hermione? Is that why you came up here? For just a quick shag?”
I don’t know how I got to my feet, but now I’m standing and I can’t stop my chest from heaving rapidly. Merlin, look at her face. That’s not a good look. The arched brow, the slight curl on her lips-she’s about to hex me! I shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe I should’ve just let her finish the little game she started in the lift. We could be starkers by now! Oh, no. She’s standing. Shite! Her foot stomps quickly on the floor.
“That’s what you think, Ron? You think I came up here to shag you and then leave?”
“That’s what you said!”
“No, you tosser, I told that bint that I was your shag for the night.”
“And?”
“And I told her that to shock her. I know that kind of witch, Ron. I shared a dorm with two just like her for seven years.”
“So you don’t want some sort of… revenge?”
Did I say that out loud? Damnit! Her face is flushed. Why am I such a prick?
“You thought I wanted to get back at you?”
“I… well, I embarrassed you tonight.”
“No, you embarrassed yourself.”
Ouch.
“I’m… Shite, Hermione. I’m sorry. I just thought… ”
“No, Ron, you didn’t.”
Her eyes leave mine. Bloody hell, she’s angry. What can I do? I walk to her and she backs away. A hard sigh lifts between my teeth and I try another tactic. Liquor.
”Can I get you a drink?”
“No. Maybe I should go.”
“NO!” Fuck, not too desperate, eh, Weasley? “I mean… it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other. I’m sorry for acting like an idiot. Please come… er… sit and have a drink. I think we could both use one.”
Her chest lifts slightly as she intakes a wide breath. Please, Merlin, let her say yes!
She nods and I can finally breathe. I lead her to the sofa. Smile. That’ll make her relax. She never could resist the lopsided grin. So, I give it to her. She rolls her eyes, but then laughs softly.
”Firewhiskey?”
“Uh… no. Do you have any Witch’s Brew?”
“Yeah. I think I might.”
________________________________________
I rummage through my cabinets like a burglar. Merlin, why am I so nervous? This is Hermione. Where’s that bottle?
“FUCK!”
“Is everything all right, Ron?”
“Yea… yeah. I just broke a glass.”
”Do you need a hand?”
Yeah, hand job… Shut it, Weasley.
“Er… no. I’ll be right out.”
Fecking shaking hands. Ah, here it is. Thank Merlin for Ginny’s affinity for this shite. Where’s the… Oh, hello, Ogden, my old mate. Huh, I’m bleeding. I’ll get her to heal it.
I pour drinks then quickly stride out of the kitchen. As I reach the doorway to the den, I stop in mid-step.
Zeus, look at her. She stands in front of the fire staring up at the pictures on the mantel. Her shadow dances in the firelight. She is amazing. Those legs. Hmm… seems Spain has been good to her. Stop staring, mate, or the Traitor will begin his salute. I clear my throat and she jumps slightly. She takes the goblet I offer her, then nods her thanks. She turns back toward the waving photographs.
“I’d forgotten about this one. It was seventh year, wasn’t it?”
A reflective smile jumps across my face as I reach for the photo of the three of us.
“Yeah. Just after the Cup match. Harry was so ecstatic.”
“I remember. He got so excited that he kissed Ginny right out in the middle of the pitch.”
“Suppose he never would have done that unless he was a bit giddy.”
“At least he did it.” She blushes immediately then quickly tries to recover against her insult. “Still, it turned out well for them, didn’t it?”
“I’d say two kids and five years of marriage is doing… ‘well’.”
I try to nod but only end up staring briefly in her eyes. I walk back toward the sofa and hope the tension will fade soon. She lingers on the pictures as I slump roughly onto the sofa. Shite. I knew we’d get around to this. What am I supposed to say? ‘Sorry, Hermione, that I was too spineless to tell you how much I loved you. Forgive me? Great! Now can we shag each other senseless?’ No. Don’t think that’d be appropriate. That’s not what she wants.
What does she want, then?
Oh… Here she comes. Please sit in the armchair. Not the sofa. NOT the sofa, Hermione. Please not the… FUCK! She’s sitting too close. She gives me a smile, Merlin, help me. I have to distract myself.
“So… er… how is Spain?”
“Fine, but I’m thinking of moving back here.”
“Really?!!?” Shite, too eager, Weasley. I can see her snicker. Ugh… this isn’t good. I’m too anxious, but Godric, I can’t help it. Her? Here?
Oh, the possibilities.
Stop it! Come on, mate, get it together. That’s not what she wants. I’m not what she wants. Again, what does she want? Fuck if I know, but I’m sure it’s not me! But she kissed me. A lot. Of course, there’s a big difference between a few snogs and well… that.
“Yes, your dad told me there was a position opening up in the Charms and Research Department at the Ministry.”
“Is that what you do in Spain? Charms and Research?” That’s it; keep her talking. Maybe she’ll bore the randiness out of me.
“Yes. I was the Undersecretary of the Charms Operative Program. Then I was promoted to the Department of Developmental Research, then… ”
She babbles now, but I can’t concentrate on what she says. I’m too focused on her mouth: that luscious, pink mouth. It’s so soft and tempting. I just want those lips wrapped tightly around my… FUCK! Why am I doing this to myself? First, I endured public humiliation and now this bloody self-conscious restraint. Why not just pull her on top of me and plough inside her?
Mmmm, that’s an image.
Shite! Stop it!
Yes, Weasley, but haven’t you wanted to do that for ages?
It’s the Traitor. Just staring at her, watching her face flush with passion while she talks about her work makes that Traitorous Sod twitch. He tries to convince me to attack her.
But she wants it, too, you tosser! She groped and kneaded at you in the alley. She moaned, for fuck’s sake!
Well, she probably just reacted instinctively. It’s just polite to respond when someone kisses you.
Now that’s a load of rot and you know it!
Maybe, but it’s been years. Why would she want me after all this time? She’s probably got some bloke back in Spain. Shite, I hope not.
She’s quiet. I jump when her hand comes to rest on my knee.
“Ron? Are you all right? You look distracted.”
“I’m… fine.” Okay, ignore the fact that she’s rubbing your knee. It doesn’t mean what you think it means.
“Are you sure? Your face is paling.”
“No. No, I’m fine. I was just trying to concentrate on what you were saying.” She tries not to laugh. I must sound like an arse. She laughs outright. “What?”
“You. Some things have changed, Ron, but your expressions certainly haven’t. I can tell when you’re lying.”
“I wasn’t… ”
“Yes you were. The tip of your nose gets pink when you lie. It’s all right. You don’t have to pretend to be interested in my work.”
“But I am.” Bugger, more laughing. It’s useless. “Okay, I'm not. Stop laughing! It’s not funny.”
She throws her head back, laughing harder. She flops against the sofa but her hand remains on my leg. In fact as she leans back, her palm slides up to my thigh. FUCK! The Traitor will soon return to active duty. I give her a weak smile then swallow the large bundle of nerves in my throat. She lets her lingering laugh muffle into her goblet. Shite, I never thought I’d want to be made of glass until this moment.
I can’t stop staring at her and she notices. “What is it? If you aren't listening to me, then what are you thinking of, Ron?”
Her pupils have darkened and her brow lifts in curiosity. I take a large gulp of my Firewhiskey to stall, but our eyes are locked.
“I… uh, I guess I just wonder why you aren't… erm, angry about what happened.”
“Oh.” She sounds disappointed. “Well, I figured that you humiliating yourself is punishment enough. Besides… ”
Why is she putting her goblet down?
“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
Why is she scooting closer to me? I growl slightly. “Long… time?” There is no air in my lungs.
She smirks then wraps her arm around my shoulder across the back of the sofa. Where’s her other hand… HELLO, there it is! Traitor, I’m warning you…
“Yes, it’s been seven years since we’ve seen each other. I didn’t want anger to stop me… ”
OH, FUCK! If she inches her hand just slightly to the left, then I’m truly and utterly dead.
“Stop you?”
“Yes, stop me from catching up with you.”
“Catch… catching up?”
I can’t stop myself from stuttering when her lips are so close to my ear. Mmmm. Oh, bollocks, not the sucking, Hermione. I can’t… I can’t concentrate when you… fuck… Oh!
“Catching up. You know, with your life. Your work… Your family… Who you shag.”
Uh, oh. Try to recover. Try hard. Shite.
“I don’t… I mean I have, but not late… lately.”
And there’s the tongue. I have to stop this. It’s too quick. Well, it is only a bit of play not… not… Mmmm.
Her tongue traces the curve of my lobe. Oh, Great Godric, and yes… of course… the Traitor begins to squirm. Bugger.
“How long, Ron? How long has it been since you’ve had a good shaaagg?”
She draws out the last word with a deep, husky drawl.
Dear Zeus, please kill me now. It’s okay. Twenty-six years is long enough. I’m ready to die now.
“Erm… uh… six… six months.”
She stops then pulls back. Fuck. I prefer her torture.
“Six months?”
My eyes widen. Did I just tell the desirable, wanton, love of my life that I haven’t shagged anyone in six months? Fuck. I may as well have given her a loaded gun.
“Er… ”
“Why so long?”
“I’ve, uh, been busy.”
She gives me an odd stare. Oh, shite, I don’t like that smirk. It looks dangerous.
“That’s far too long, Ron.”
And the tongue returns. Okay. I’ve gone through Auror training. I am a professional. I can take this, no prob… prob… problem. She whispers in my ear. Oh… she wants to put her what on my where? That sounds like… fun. Her palm lifts to my chest. Is that? No, that can’t be her fingers squeezing my nipple! Okay, if I don’t respond, she’ll think I’m not interested. I’ve got to do something, but nothing too extreme. I can’t let her think that’s all I want. She lets a soft moan escape her mouth and I lift her chin up to capture her lips. Oh, Merlin, I’m not going to make it. This is spectacular, brilliant. She’s amazing. She’s soft and… FUCK, FUCK, FUCKIDITY FUCK!
“Hermione!” I grab her hand just before she gets my zipper all the way down. She looks at me incredulously and, if I’m not mistaken, offended.
“What’s wrong, Ron? Don’t you want to?”
HUH? Is she mad? Of course I do but… but…
But what, you prat? You want her! This is Hermione!
Exactly the point. It’s Hermione. The only girl I’ve ever loved. The girl whose heart I pulverized into powder. She deserves more than a quick shag!
So give her more.
I blink my eyes back into focus. I hadn’t noticed her pull back from me and dart from the sofa. She rants, but the only words I catch throw me into a deep pool of regret.
“I should have known! You didn’t want me seven years ago; why should that have changed? Merlin! I can’t even manage to shag a wizard who’s been celibate for six months!”
She’s flustered and heads toward the door. She glances over her shoulder and I can see the embarrassment cover her face.
“I’m sorry, Ron. I didn’t mean to… I just thought that after how jealous you were tonight… I guess I thought… Circe, I’m just so sorry. I’ve got to go!”
GET OFF YOUR BOLLOCKS, WEASLEY!
“Wait! Hermione, please don’t go. I’m sorry. It’s my fault entirely. Please stay?” I’m in front of her in three long strides. She looks shocked. “I’m sorry, love. It’s not that I don’t want you. Hell, I wanted you then, but I’m such a tosser, a coward, really; I just didn’t want you ‘settling’.”
I can’t look in her eyes. I don’t want to see the agreement in them. I feel her palms cupping my chin, forcing it up.
“Is that what you thought-what you think? That I am ‘settling’ if I choose to be with you?”
My eyes fall again and I speak in a whisper. “You’re brilliant; I’m not. You’re beautiful; I’m average. I was just a poor, skinny, freckled wisp of a boy. You deserved the best, Hermione and I wasn’t even close to being that. I'm still not.
“Ron, you little idiot.” She doesn’t say anything else for a moment; she simply cements her body to mine, then brushes my lips sweetly with hers. “You may have thought you were average and thin, but you were mine. You were mine the moment I watched you straddle that horse and sacrifice yourself for Harry. You were eleven years old and you fascinated me. You incensed me. You took my heart without ever trying. How could you be second best, Ron, when I always knew wizards weren’t ever made any better than you? There could never be anyone else for me. The only way I would be ‘settling’ is if I’d choose anyone other than you.”
I can only stare at her. Words fail to travel from my mind to my mouth. She smiles sweetly, trying to say all that’s in her heart. Her eyes glisten slightly and she shakes her head in disbelief. I’m frozen. I can only give off a blank, completely dumbfounded stare. She curls her palms around my jaw, then waits for my response.
“Say something, Ron.”
My mouth is dry, but I force my voice forward.
“I… I’m thinking so many things that I can’t decide which one to speak first.”
She smiles softly. “Answer one question for me?” I nod quickly. “Do you love me? Do you want to be with me?”
“That’s two questions.” Shut up, Weasley!
“Shut up and answer.” Is she reading my mind? I don’t even have to think about my answer.
“Yes… and shite, yes!”
“Then why are we talking?” I smile widely then allow my shoulders to sag in relaxation.
“That’s a bloody good question and right now, I don’t want to answer it.”
I don’t give her a chance to respond. Like a wizard possessed, I drive my mouth over hers and immediately dart my tongue in. We both relish the soft dance of our lapping muscles and moan loudly. It becomes fevered and anxious quickly, but she doesn’t seem to mind. As for me… fuck, what do you think?
Hands knead, nibble, and suckle gently, in complete contrast to the sounds emitting from our throats. She pants, I growl. She moans, I gasp. The Traitor is in full combat now, but I have no intention of reprimanding. In one eager movement I pull her tight toward me, intentionally grinding my hips into her body, trying to weaken her slightly, but I soon discover that my gesture is pointless. She’s more wanton than any witch I’ve ever seen. She responds by jumping quickly and wrapping her legs around my hips. I whimper like a wounded animal and I can feel her smirk against my lips. Her tongue rams so deep in my mouth that I can’t even feel my own anymore. Her hands fist in my hair as I grind against her slowly. Her breath is broken and jagged as she pulls away and stares in my eyes.
“Let’s go to bed, Ron.”
THANK YOU, MERLIN!
I don’t respond immediately. My lips capture her mouth as I turn us around and stride through the den toward my bedroom. I don’t know how I carry her through my flat without tripping over my own feet or knocking into the…
“FUCK!”
“Ow! Uh… Ron, your elbow.”
“Huh?”
“Your elbow. It’s pulling on my hair.”
“Oh. Sorry, love.”
Shite. Smooth, Weasley, real smooth. Damn bloody feet; at least the carpet it plush. I lift myself off of her and hold out my hand to raise her from the floor in front of my bedroom door. She smiles at my clumsiness.
“Guess that didn’t enhance the mood, did it?”
“It’s okay. I guess I wasn’t helping.”
“No, Hermione, you were helping… I like your legs wrapped around me.”
She’s blushing; that’s a good sign.
“Come on,” she says as she pulls me through the doorway.
I follow her like an innocent lamb to the slaughter.
Innocent? Yeah, right, Weasley. You’re about as innocent as Mundungus is honest.
So maybe I’m not innocent. Maybe I’m some randy sod who has internal conversations with his own knob. Maybe, right now I could drive said knob into a sheet of iron, thanks to you, Traitor.
And her.
Okay, and her, but this isn’t going to be lecherous. This is us; she and I… finally.
And it’s about ruddy time!
Shut it.
I don’t say anything. I simply watch her as she guides me toward the bed. She’s magnificent, even if she is still fully clothed. Her eyes are alight with fire. They’re deep and pooled with desire. Her lips are swollen and bright pink and seem to be itching for more contact. So I decide to scratch them. I dart toward her feverishly and chuckle to myself when I hear her whimper. Damn, she’s getting rough. Her nails dig painfully into my shoulders, but it’s a sweet ache. Who knew a little pain would turn me on? I growl… again, then pull us both down onto my bed, her body atop mine. At this moment I want nothing more than to strip her and immediately drive hard and deep into her soft body, but I know it would be over too soon and that’s something I don’t want.
Oh, come on Weasley. It isn’t as if I can’t jump back up a few minutes later.
No. And shut it. I’m not listening to you anymore.
I have to restrain myself… just a bit. I want this done right. I want to be brilliant. I don’t even have to wonder about her brilliance. I pull away slightly, soaking in her flushed face and swollen lips. I smile softly but she only stares.
“What is it, Ron?”
A small sigh passes through my lips. “Nothing’s wrong, love. I… I just want to enjoy this. I want this to be… slow.”
She growls.
“All right. What would you like me to do?”
“Nothing. Just enjoy.”
Her eyes have widened as I lift her up then flip her around so that her back is flat against the bed. A rough groan shakes my throat as I note her top teeth covering her bottom lip. Shite, she’s sexy when she does that. She looks at me expectantly. Okay, Weasley, be smooth. Be calm. Be… sexy. Fuck, can I do sexy? Guess we’ll see.
She watches me closely as I hover above her and my hands slide to her hips. My hands shake slightly as I fumble with her zipper then pull her slacks down to her ankles.
Great buggering holy fuck! Look at those knickers! Black… black and satin and, oh, shite… I’ll come on myself if I focus on those for too long. I shut my eyes tightly and she chuckles. She knows me so well. I try to pull her slacks past her feet but they’re stuck on the complicated sandals she’s wearing. She lifts up on her elbows to stare at me.
“I can get those, Ron.”
“No. No, I can do it.”
What kind of sick fuck designed these? I’ve never seen so many buckles and straps in my life. Okay. Fine. I try the buckles first. Shite, they’re beyond me. Am I that daft? Yes… yes, I probably am. Fuck it. I’ll just pull them off. I reach for the large strap at the back of her ankle. I tug. Nothing. Shite! I pull and tug and concentrate so hard that I don’t hear what she mumbles about. I’m a wizard possessed.
Fuck these shoes! I straddle her leg with my back toward her and give the sodding strap one final, grunting yank and it immediately breaks. The momentum sends me forward and I now lie face down on the hearth in front of the fire. My nose is rubbed raw and I know there are carpet burns on my cheeks. I grumble to myself in humiliation. No, I definitely can’t do sexy. My mood lifts, however, when I hear her hysterical laughs behind me. I roll over and rest on my elbows.
“Funny, is it?”
“Merlin, yes. You’re so stubborn. If you’d just let me… then you wouldn’t have ended
up… ”
Rolls of giggles overtake her and I just smile. I stand and make my way back to the bed. I lean over her and give that lopsided grin that I know she likes. “Glad to see my pain and injuries are so amusing to you, Ms. Granger.”
She sobers from her laughing fit. “Oh. You… you are injured. Pity, that.”
“Why?”
“I can’t very well shag an injured wizard, now can I?”
“Oh, I think I’m up for this.”
“I bet you are.” I jerk and moan when she brushes the tent of my trousers.
Fuck. “No, no, no. Not yet, miss. My turn first.”
“Hmm. Interesting.”
“Yes, love. It will be.”
Her eyebrow arches. Yes, that’s right. Be curious. Be very curious, love. Her lip curls into a seductive smirk.
“And what, exactly, are you going to do to me, Mr. Weasley?”
I return her smirk. I wiggle my eyebrows and she blushes. “I’m going to make you moan.”
“You’ve done that.”
“Yes, but this time you’ll be adding screaming to the moans.”
A fiery glint invades her eyes. “And how are you going to do that? Are you going to try to pull off my other foot?”
I blush.
Fuck.
I recover. “No, but I am going to taste every inch of your body.”
“Well then, get on with it!”
I obey the order. Well, I try to anyway, but the other bleeding sandal remains. I look down at her foot then casually glance up at her face. She rolls her eyes. Come on, Hermione; don’t get frustrated. She smiles. Good. Just a brief pause… She quickly removes her other shoe.
How the fuck? Yes, I am daft… apparently, very daft. She leans back expectantly as I rid her of her slacks.
Now, I’ve always been a patient person. Okay, so no, I haven’t, but over time, I’ve learned to tame my eagerness… a bit. But now she lays here in only her knickers and shirt and that soft mound tempts me. Fuck, this is going to be hard… er… difficult.
I can’t take the easy way out. I’ve got try to reserve my keenness. Just breathe, mate. Just breathe. Don’t think too long on the fact that her naked flesh and presumably soft, dark curls are separated from your touch by a criminally thin bit of satin.
Someone please, for the love of Merlin, kill me… now.
I shake away the thought and set about at my task. I look down at her, scanning the firm arch of her thighs that are so dark and muscular and tempting, and I want nothing more than to… FUCK! Get it together, Weasley.
Okay. I can do this. Front last, that’s the only way I will be able to keep myself together. I reach down and start to guide her shirt up. She helps me along and once I throw her shirt across the room, I gasp.
Loudly.
The bra matches her knickers. Mmmm. I do the only thing I can think of that will allow me a bit more reserve. I cover her mouth hungrily with my own and the low groan from her throat makes me smile.
“Ron?”
“Shh. Just wait.” Ha! How’d I get the nerve to, at least, act so in control? I clear my throat and begin to trail my tongue down her neck. Merlin, she tastes sweet. The cocoa taste again. I want to taste her, every part of her.
So I do.
I flip her over then straddle her hips. She protests but I quickly silence her with my mouth on her earlobe.
“I won’t hurt you. You know that, right?”
“Yes, but… ”
“I told you, I want to taste every part of you, so just enjoy this. Okay?”
She nods and I begin my exploration. I nibble her lobe gently then let my tongue slide down the nape of her neck. She’s shivering. Oh, just wait, love. It gets better. I intentionally slow my movements as my mouth glides onto her shoulders then down the arch of her spine. She moans and the sound is a sweet melody. I glance quickly up at her face as my fingers crawl to the clasp of her bra. I struggle with the contraption for a brief moment, then I smile when I hear her growl as the teeth break free and the offending material slides apart. I divide the separated material with my palms and she lifts up as I slide her bra off her shoulders. She stills and breathes heavily. This makes me smile. I ignore her pleas and continue my voyage. My hands lead my mouth down her waist and I suck her dark skin, making her squirm as I reach the ticklish flesh.
“Gods, Ron… that’s heaven.”
Oh, you have no idea. My knob is so hard that I nearly lose concentration, but I forge onward. The anticipation is almost more exciting than the act. Almost.
Now I’m face to face, so to speak, with that beautiful, hard, perfectly round arse. I suck in a deep breath then continue. My hands cup her bottom and I squeeze and rub, making her coo loudly. I focus on the satin and slowly, deliberately so, lift the elastic of her knickers with my fingers. Desperate, wanton pleas lower the timbre of her voice, but I continue. Sorry, love this is just too much fun.
I pull the material down with two fingers and a sharp, constricting growl jars my breath. I can’t help it. It’s bloody unavoidable. I lower my mouth then gently suck on that firm mound. Merlin, even her arse tastes sweet. Can’t linger here for too long. I… must… continue.
I lower my mouth, licking gently down the back of her legs, onto her thighs then into the slight bend of her knees. I lift her foot and cautiously suck on her toes, causing her to giggle then moan softly. I can’t believe my restraint. I am touching Hermione… intimately, and the Traitor pulses with need. I ignore him and get to do what I deem the true test of my restraint. With a soft grip, I turn her over and the instant my eyes scan the front of her body, the Traitor jumps.
FUCK!!! How the bloody hell am I going to do this? No, Weasley, control yourself. You can do it… you can get through this.
I lift my eyes to hers and just the sight of her darkened, covetous pools send me into a heavy pant. I swallow my nerves, trying to ignore the fact that my body grazes against her naked flesh, and dive into her mouth. She pulls at the hem of my shirt, trying to free me from my constricting clothing. I smile against her lips at her impatience, then I lean back, straddling her.
“You want me naked?”
She voice is jarred and broken. “Yes… bloody hell, yes, Ron!”
A swift gleam of pride fills my eyes, then I quickly start to unbutton my shirt. Outwardly I may appear to be a wizard in complete control, but inwardly, I’m dying and want nothing more than to plunge inside her. I retain my resolve and slowly let my hands weave down to the last button. I sweep the shirt off my shoulders and watch, completely amazed, as Hermione’s eyes become darker still and her chest rises and falls rapidly. Huh, imagine that. I guess I can do the sexy bit.
She pulls me down on top of her, driving her tongue into my mouth, wrapping her legs around my hips and it takes every fibre of restraint that I possess not to forfeit my torture. But, I know it’s better this way. I reach behind my neck and pull her hands away, causing a frustrated growl to escape from her throat.
“RON!”
I try to refrain from chuckling, but she’s so damn adorable when she’s annoyed. “Wait, love. Just wait.”
“I’ve waited long enough… ten years in fact!”
“Oi… Testy when you’re not getting what you want, aren’t you?”
She folds her arms across her chest then… is that a huff? Is she pouting? Merlin, now who's acting like a toddler?
“Then why don’t you give me what I want?”
“Oh, I’ll give you what you want.” I wiggle my brows and laugh at the blush that flashes across her face. She tries to respond, but I silence her with a quick nibble at the bottom slope of her neck.
Shite, her skin is hot. It nearly burns my lips, but I don’t bloody well care. Her hands immediately fist in my hair and I smile against her skin as I feel her pushing me downward. My nose rubs against the top of her breast and I instinctively inhale. Cinnamon. Sweet, tempting cinnamon, that’s what she smells like. With one hand on her hip and the other cupping a breast, I pull back slightly and look at her bare flesh. She’s a miracle… a complete and absolute example of eternal perfection. Her breasts aren’t overly large, but they are still impressive. They are firm and soft and look as though they’ve been dipped in a vat of honey. The nipples are round and slightly russet and I can hardly control the temptation of engulfing one entirely into my mouth.
So I don’t.
I suck gently, but my tongue flicks manically against the peak. I feel her squirming underneath me and the action is scarcely bearable. How is it that I haven’t come in my pants? How is it that I haven’t given up all measure of control and plunged into her? I’ve no idea.
Her writhing is unnerving and completely erotic. The Traitor literally thumps against my trousers, seemingly trying to move out of them. I ignore both the randy sod and the moaning witch beneath me and turn my attention to her other breast, but I’m not callous. As my mouth and tongue tease her right breast, the tips of my finger squeeze the peak of the left. Her breathing is erratic and I can feel the tension welling inside her as her heartbeat jumps rapidly.
“Ron… please… this… this is torture.”
Exactly the point, love. I look up at her and my heart nearly breaks at the play of need in her eyes. I give her a nod and a brief smile then inch further down her body. My tongue leaves a moist trail below her bellybutton until I’m finally at her centre. I sigh roughly, nearly losing all composure as my palm spoons the dark locks and I rest on my elbow staring down at what must be the most beautiful display of skin and curls ever known to wizarding kind. I pet her slowly, my mind buzzing with the paradoxical need to please the both of us, and the desire to make this experience drawn out and memorable.
I separate the brim of her lips and slowly slip one finger inside her.
Holy. Fuck.
This has got to be the warmest thing I’ve ever felt. No, not warm… Searingly hot… and wet. Is that for me? Bloody hell, she’s wetter than a thousand stinksaps in the middle of the Hogwarts Lake!
“Oh… Merlin, Ron!”
Okay, evidently, she likes this. So do I. What am I saying? Like this? Huh, that’s a bloody massive understatement.
I try to get past the jig that the Traitor is doing and concentrate on the task at hand. Hermione tugs at the sheets at her side and her writhing has reached the point of distraction. With my free hand I still her hips then slowly inch down further. I give her one last glance then shudder when I note that blasted lip biting again.
Merlin, Zeus, and Circe, please help me!!
I push back my own need and dip my mouth over the protruding node. Instantly, she wails. I moan as I taste her, properly, for the first time. She smells erotic and primal, but it’s all so fucking good.
I become frantic with trying to please her. I inch in another finger, trying to measure her reaction. She sobs, but it isn’t in pain or upset. My name rockets away from her lips and I can feel her walls enclosing around my fingers. The Traitor is becoming overactive. I don’t think, no, I know I can’t manage to restrict myself for much longer. I know she’s close, exceedingly so. I increase my torture. She moans and growls and sounds very much like Grawp. It’s so erotic to hear those unexpected words expelling from my sweet, innocent, Hermione’s mouth. Okay, not that innocent.
“Yes, Ron, right… THERE!”
Her walls are vice-like and my body immediately reacts. I let her shudder and wail and completely fall apart as she climaxes, but I’ve no intention of letting her relax for very long. Her breathing settles slightly and just as I see her shoulders relax and the tension ease from her body, I withdraw my fingers and immediately start tearing my trousers and boxers from my body. I dart on top of her and quickly spread her legs apart, but when her hands push back on my chest, I freeze.
“Hermione, what? I have to… ”
“Oh, no you don’t Ronald Weasley.”
What the fuck!??!!
“Please, love, I have to be inside of you… now!”
She pushes me back further and the Traitor screams, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HER? I’M DYING, WEASLEY! DID YOU KNOW THAT? I AM FECKING DYING!
She gives me a menacing stare. “Oh, you will be soon enough, but did you really think I could let you tease and torture me like that without retaliating?”
Fuck me… I’m in trouble.
“Hermione… I… please… this is killing me!”
“Good.” She pushes me back then settles between my knees. “You think that was clever, don’t you? You think you were driving me mad?”
“Well… yeah… you didn’t like it?” Oh great, you wait ten years to touch her and she thinks you were complete rubbish at it.
“I didn’t say that. I loved it. It was brilliant.”
“But?”
“But you teased me and now… ”
FUCK ME, WHAT DID I DO?
“Now?” My voice is weak and my stomach spins with… is that… fear?
“Now, Mr. Weasley, it’s my turn.”
I can see the tombstone:
Here lies Ronald B. Weasley.
Auror, friend, complete and utter wanker.
He died as he lived: at the wanton hands of Hermione Granger.
He met death smiling.
It’s her turn. FUCK. That’s scary and a bit erotic. There’s no way I’ll be able to restrain myself. No bloody, buggering, fucking way I’ll last. Whatever she plans, she’ll be disappointed. One touch and the Traitor will weaken. I know it. I’m helpless. There isn’t a bloody thing I can do but enjoy this quick death.
She bends down slowly, too slowly for my patience, all the while locking her eyes onto mine. With menacing sluggishness, she wraps her delicate fingers around my knob and I instantly shudder.
“What’s the matter, love? Does that hurt?” She’s not concerned… trust me. That is a vindictive little smirk spread across her face.
I become a blubbering idiot. “N… n… no. Feels… good.”
“What’s that?”
Speech is impossible at this moment. She chuckles softly and I growl as her hands begin to quickly run up and down my shaft.
Oh… Merlin… please, help me!!
Ah… where are you now, Traitor??? Abandoned me, have you?
Sod off, Weasley, I… I… I’m… busy.
Her pace increases and just as I think I can bare no more, her mouth sinks down on me and I am literally spent.
HOLY FUCKING, BUGGERING SHITE!
Sweet, Godric, her mouth is so tight around me. I… I can’t think. Fuck that, I can’t breathe. Her tongue laps in waves around the tip of my knob and the sucking… fuck me, the sucking… I try to fight it. I try so bleeding hard to fight off that sweet spinning that has been threatening me all night. It would be so easy just to let go, but I don’t want it, not yet. I want us together, to have it happen to the pair of us at the same time. But, Merlin that feels good. Her tongue is soft and warm and her mouth is tight. Just a few more lunges downward and I’ll be… FUCK! NO!
“Ron? What… ”
I can no longer stomach it. This is it. Without a word I push her off of me then quickly spin her around. She’s underneath me now and I’m not even distracted by her chuckling. She arches her brow, bites that… oh, bugger… bites her lip and I lean in, stabbing her mouth with my tongue.
“I can’t… not another second, Hermione. I’ve got to be in you… no arguments, I hope?”
She folds her arms across her chest and gives me a pseudo glare. “Not much fun, is it?”
“Shite, yes it is, but… but… ”
“Shut up, Ron… and fuck me.”
Zeus, Merlin, Hera, and Rheia… did she just say fuck? Oh… man, I’m in trouble. There’s no bloody way I’ll ever be able to stop shagging her. I growl in earnest, then roughly divide her legs. In one fluid movement I enter her and immediately, we both gasp.
Was I alive before this moment? I doubt it, highly. I thrust into her and she bucks against me, wailing out my name, making the Traitor dance gleefully. Suddenly, without any real reason, it hits me. I am, quite possibly, the most daft, idiotic, completely oblivious wanker of a wizard that has ever lived. This witch, this beautiful, intelligent, criminally sensual witch has loved me more than half of her life. And what of me? I’ve loved her just as long. So what the bleeding fuck was my problem? I was a coward, spineless and immature. Damnit, Weasley, do you realize you could have had this for ten years? I should be sent to Azkaban because it must be an unforgivable crime to deny Hermione Granger.
Are those… tears stinging my eyes? Bloody hell. Look what she does to me. I’ve become a weepy, pathetic git. Fuck it. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care if I die trying-I’m going to make this the best she’s ever known.
Instantly I’m a new wizard. She whimpers slightly, but I overlook it. This is good… this being inside her, feeling her clench around me, but I’m going to make it so much better. I pull back, nearly completely out, her then deftly thrust back. Her tightened eyes immediately pop open and her mouth morphs into a shocked circle. She smirks.
“Like that do you, love?”
She doesn’t speak. She simply nods quickly. I wiggle my brows then force them into concentration. What I feel is pushed aside. I forget the sensation, forget how full my heart is, forget everything I thought I knew about how to receive pleasure. All of it is rot now… all except pleasing her, making her scream and shake until her body no longer feels like her own.
I pull back slightly and nudge her legs up, draping them onto my chest. I grab her calves for leverage and then, quickly, I drive into her with such acceleration that the Traitor starts to scream.
No, Weasley, don’t!! I can’t take it… really, are you intentionally trying to kill me?
Sod the fuck off, you!
Her moans have evolved in low, raspy growls and I smile. I feel her squeezing around my knob and I know she’s nearly there. I thrust faster… faster still and, like clockwork, she crashes. Her arms fly above her head, her hips arch, and I can see those pearl-white teeth draping over her lower lip, trying to squelch her release.
“No, love, don’t do that. Scream for me, please.”
She obliges and my ears are now ringing from her yelps of pleasure. Her arms are limp and she stares up at me with a lazy, nearly silly smile on her face. It’s not enough. She deserves more so I continue. I see her eyes rolling and feel the shudders that run through her body. I know what she’s thinking. She’s waiting for me, but I’ve long since ignored the Traitor’s voice. I release one of her legs then lick my thumb. She sees the gesture and her eyes begin to bulge.
“Ron what are you doing?”
“Shh… this is for you.”
“What’s for… Sweet, Godric, Ron! I’ve already… ”
I shrug my shoulders then let my thumb gently massage her nub. She reaches up to push my hand away, but I shake my head in disapproval.
“No, love… once more.”
“I… I can’t… you… you haven’t even… ”
“Don’t worry about me, and yes… yes you can.”
She whimpers, completely taken aback. She’s still arguing with me, though her words are not audible. My thumb accelerates and I can feel her, once again, clench around me. Gods, if this is death, then I welcome it… gladly. Soon her breath jars and her hips arch slightly. She draws in a deep, ragged gasp then comes… hard. I can feel her fluids wash over me like a steaming rain. She’s completely drained, I can see the exhaustion spread across her face, but she seems to forget fatigue as she lowers her legs and flips me onto my back. I’m fascinated, if not completely shocked. Merlin… she is going to kill me.
She is silent as she looks down at me and then straddles my aching flesh. She lifts up a bit and squats slightly, resting her weight on her feet and steadying herself, hands on my chest.
HOLY, SODDING, FUCKING, BLEEDING HELL!
I swear, my knob must be somewhere near her stomach. I’ve never been this deep in anyone. She rocks quickly, pistoning on top of me and I barely register the screams the Traitor is making. She moves faster and after a few quick movements, I growl uncontrollably and feel myself floating. White streams of pleasure swim through my eyes as I come harder than ever before in my life.
I moan, no… I scream her name and we both fall weakly into exhaustion. She’s at my side, her breathing just as uneven and ragged as my own. I try to turn toward her, but my body won’t allow it. Lowly, I can hear the Traitor whimper.
Marry her, Weasley. For the love of Merlin, marry this one.
I chuckle silently then nod. Not a bad idea.
I feel her arm drape my waist and I instinctively grab her, pulling her close so that her cheek can rest on my heaving chest. My eyes can barely stay lifted, but I manage to kiss the top of her head and squeeze her shoulder gently.
“Hermione?”
“Hmmm?”
“You’re amazing.”
She laughs. “Yes, well, I’ve got no complaints about you, love.”
I know she’s drifting away. I can hear her breath become even and slow.
“Hermione?”
She doesn’t answer, she simply lifts her eyes toward mine.
“I love you.”
A smile flashes across her face and she sighs. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear that?”
“I’m sorry, love. I was an idiot.”
“And a wanker.”
“Yes. Definitely a wanker.”
Merlin, she tastes sweet; like warm cocoa melting into my mouth on a cold night.
Oh.
This isn’t real, it can’t be. She’s stopping. Merlin, Hermione, don’t stop. Okay, not stopping, just moving. Her body is cemented to mine and I know she can feel how hard I am against her stomach.
Mmmm.
Her tongue slides toward my ear. Merlin, it’s hot! I can’t take much more of this. I’ve never been so bleeding hard. Those lips. They’re so soft and tempting. That’s how we got here, against the wall just outside my building. I couldn’t help it. We were walking in silence toward my flat then she grabbed my hand with no warning. Her skin felt fiery and smooth, like burning velvet. She began stroking her thumb across my knuckles and I looked at her, slightly taken aback.
It was the bite that did me in. She gave me this serious, desire-filled look and then bit her lip. That was it. I was done for. Without asking, I captured her lips. Zeus, they felt like heaven. She didn’t resist me, to my great shock, but she should have. After I made a complete arse of myself tonight, she should have slapped me or at least hexed me into next month, but she didn’t. She did what she’d always done; she stood by me. Even after I assumed, I know… ‘arse of u and me,’ Weasley. Okay I shouldn’t have forgotten my clichés, but I did and I assumed that she was fucking the man accompanying her to the Victory Celebration. Her cousin. I’m such a prat. I let my jealousy override my sense. Again. I’m good at that, but she didn’t mention anything. She just linked her arm in mine then followed me home. She’d told me her intention without really saying much, but she couldn’t have been serious. At least that’s what I thought until she bit her lip seductively then welcomed my tongue into her mouth.
I’d only intended to kiss her. It's something I’ve wanted to do for almost ten years, but when her tongue met mine and I heard the sweet moan escaping from the back of her throat, I couldn’t help but take it further. I’d thought I’d lead her, make her weak from my touch, but the sweet, smart, reserved Hermione that I once knew so well seems to have gone on holiday. This is a side of her I have never seen before but always hoped was there, just beyond the surface of her reserved exterior. Merlin, she’s incredible. Her hands grip my hips toward her and it takes every bit of restraint I have not to strip her bare and push inside her right here, out in the alley. Sweet Godric, she’s grabbing my arse! I can’t take this. If I don’t stop her now, the whole of London will get a sight of the Minister’s son they’d never want to see.
I pant and low mewing coos pass her lips.
“Ron?” She begs. FUCK! Okay, think, Weasley, just be calm. First things first.
“Hermione, I think we should go up to my flat.”
“Sweet Circe, yes!”
________________________________________
Okay, I’ve got to be subtle. I wouldn’t want her to know how utterly desperate I am to be inside her. Besides, she doesn’t really want that to happen. I’m sure of it. Shite. She grabs my hand again. Mmmm, that touch. How the bloody hell can one touch make my entire body shiver? I can’t even look at her, even though I can feel her eyes scanning over me. I swallow hard and hold the door to the lobby for her. She’s in front of me now. Her hips sway seductively as she walks toward the lift. Bollocks! Does she know how tight her arse is? Does she have any idea that her hips swirl slightly as her legs lead her forward? I am one dead wizard. And my body knows it.
It’s betraying me.
He betrays me, the randy sod. He has a mind completely separate from mine. With a simple touch from Hermione, he twitches. One slight, nearly silent moan and he stands at attention. I can’t control him. Domination is elusive to me now and all she’s doing is walking. Fuck me. If this is the reaction she rouses from some heavy snogs and gentle touches, how the bloody hell am I going to control myself once I’m inside her? I whisper a moan. FUCK! Don’t think that!
“Ron? Are you okay?” she asks.
“What? Oh… yeah. I, uh, I think I’ve got a tickle in my throat.”
She nods then drifts lightly into the lift. Just as the doors begin to slide closed, they reopen and the large couple from the floor below me enter with their two even larger children behind them. Damn. This lift is small to begin with, but the size of the new occupants leaves even less space to move. Hmmm. Not too bad a position to be in. Hermione scoots close to me, trying to avoid the family of whales. She stands in front of me, her firm bottom hovering dangerously near my traitorous muscle. On second thought… Not now. Merlin, no. If you start up again, she’ll know, and I’ll have even more to feel guilty about in the morning.
I. Am. Dying.
She’s subtle, but cunning nonetheless. Oh, Gods, Hermione, don’t, I beg you. She can’t hear my thoughts and I can’t stop her. Not without the Blubber family hearing. She shifts her arse slowly, rousing the still slightly hard Traitor back into attention. Damn it. Stop. Okay, so I don’t want her to stop. But… FUCK! She scoots back further and I can feel the blood shifting quickly down my body. Up. Oh, fuck, stop! Up. No, no, no, not now! UP. Well, now, this is going to be embarrassing. Thank the Maker, the Blubbers will get off… eww, feck… I mean leave the lift one story before we do.
She backs further against me then lets out a small gasp when she feels that I’m already hard, and the Blubbers notice her squeak. She recovers quickly with a not-too-delicate cough and I can see the blush covering her cheeks.
“Not too brave, now, are you, love?” I whisper against her ear.
I can see her eyebrow arch cockily as she darts her eyes over her shoulder to look at me. She smirks. Oh shite. I shouldn’t have challenged her. The lift bell dings at the ninth floor. Five more to go… That’s good. She can’t do anything…
HOLY FUCK!
I know the Blubbers can hear the small whimper that releases from my throat as Hermione’s hand drifts behind her and those tiny digits start dancing up and down the front of my trousers.
What are you playing at? Why in the bloody hell are you doing this to me? Oh, right. I deserve it. I was King Supreme Prick tonight. But this, this is just… mean. She knows full well I won’t do anything in retaliation; not when Papa, Mama and Baby whales are in such close proximity.
Eleventh floor.
Stop it, Hermione… please stop.
Twelfth.
Merlin, kill me know!
Thirteenth.
Shite.
The Blubbers are leaving. That’s it. I’ll put an end to this. I see the plump bottom of the last Blubber walk out of the lift and I immediately jerk Hermione’s hips toward me but I’m quickly thwarted when the blond slag from the twentieth floor gets on. I push Hermione away and give a quick nod to the slag.
“Why, Mr. Weasley, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”
“He doesn’t.” Hermione quickly answers.
My throat tightens and my shoulders sag. The blond arches her eyebrow at Hermione and gives her a daring glare. I know this look. I know this slag. She’s been after me for weeks now, but I’ve never fancied hand-me-downs and she’d been handed down through nearly every bloke in this building.
“Oh?” the slag replies. “So if you’re not his girlfriend then what are you?”
“I don’t think that’s really any of your business… ”
“I’m his shag for the night, if you must know.”
My face is nearly purple now but I can’t help feeling a small tinge of pride mixing with my disappointment as the slag’s lips snarl and a loud huff rises from her chest. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? ‘Just a shag’? So that’s the game she’s playing. Immediately, the Traitor falls.
I walk quickly past the two women as the lift opens and I dart toward my door. Just a shag. Just a fucking shag. Humph… Well, I don’t need that. Not from her. She can bloody well sod off it she thinks I’m going be some sort of play…
“What’s up with you, Ron? You flew out of the lift as if your trousers were on fire.”
“Nope. Not anymore.”
I mean to slam the door in her face but she catches it with her foot. I throw my keys on the coffee table, then slump down on the sofa. I will not look in her eyes. I will not feel guilty anymore. She’s trying to punish me. She’s trying to make me pay for embarrassing her. Shite. Don’t walk over here. Just leave. Don’t sit next to me. Please don’t do this Hermione; I can’t let you…
“Are you going to tell me why you’re angry?”
She sits too close. Her knee brushes against mine and I jerk slightly. I fold my arms tightly across my chest and pout. That’s right, Weasley, act like a toddler. Shite, why not? I’m offended. Shouldn’t I act like I’m offended? No, you tosser, look what you did tonight. You should be licking her shoes. Oi… licking… Hermione, stop it!
“Are you… pouting, Ron?”
”NO!” That didn’t sound desperate, Weasley. I recover. “No. I’m… I’m just tired, I suppose.”
She’s not buying it. I know she’s not buying it. For fuck’s sake, Hermione, stop scooting toward me. You’ll awaken the Traitor!
“Tell me why you’re angry.” Shite. How do I get out of this now? I’m not wrong, am I?
“I’m not mad. I’m just… ”
“Tired?”
Fuck, don’t look at me like that!
“Ron, you’re not tired. I know that look. You’re angry.”
”No, I’m… ”
“Yes you are. You were fine before the blond got into the lift. Is she… she’s not…?”
“No! I’ve never… ”
“Then what is it?”
Fuck. Fine, if she wants to know.
“‘Just a shag’! You said you were just my ‘shag for the night’! Is that it, Hermione? Is that why you came up here? For just a quick shag?”
I don’t know how I got to my feet, but now I’m standing and I can’t stop my chest from heaving rapidly. Merlin, look at her face. That’s not a good look. The arched brow, the slight curl on her lips-she’s about to hex me! I shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe I should’ve just let her finish the little game she started in the lift. We could be starkers by now! Oh, no. She’s standing. Shite! Her foot stomps quickly on the floor.
“That’s what you think, Ron? You think I came up here to shag you and then leave?”
“That’s what you said!”
“No, you tosser, I told that bint that I was your shag for the night.”
“And?”
“And I told her that to shock her. I know that kind of witch, Ron. I shared a dorm with two just like her for seven years.”
“So you don’t want some sort of… revenge?”
Did I say that out loud? Damnit! Her face is flushed. Why am I such a prick?
“You thought I wanted to get back at you?”
“I… well, I embarrassed you tonight.”
“No, you embarrassed yourself.”
Ouch.
“I’m… Shite, Hermione. I’m sorry. I just thought… ”
“No, Ron, you didn’t.”
Her eyes leave mine. Bloody hell, she’s angry. What can I do? I walk to her and she backs away. A hard sigh lifts between my teeth and I try another tactic. Liquor.
”Can I get you a drink?”
“No. Maybe I should go.”
“NO!” Fuck, not too desperate, eh, Weasley? “I mean… it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other. I’m sorry for acting like an idiot. Please come… er… sit and have a drink. I think we could both use one.”
Her chest lifts slightly as she intakes a wide breath. Please, Merlin, let her say yes!
She nods and I can finally breathe. I lead her to the sofa. Smile. That’ll make her relax. She never could resist the lopsided grin. So, I give it to her. She rolls her eyes, but then laughs softly.
”Firewhiskey?”
“Uh… no. Do you have any Witch’s Brew?”
“Yeah. I think I might.”
________________________________________
I rummage through my cabinets like a burglar. Merlin, why am I so nervous? This is Hermione. Where’s that bottle?
“FUCK!”
“Is everything all right, Ron?”
“Yea… yeah. I just broke a glass.”
”Do you need a hand?”
Yeah, hand job… Shut it, Weasley.
“Er… no. I’ll be right out.”
Fecking shaking hands. Ah, here it is. Thank Merlin for Ginny’s affinity for this shite. Where’s the… Oh, hello, Ogden, my old mate. Huh, I’m bleeding. I’ll get her to heal it.
I pour drinks then quickly stride out of the kitchen. As I reach the doorway to the den, I stop in mid-step.
Zeus, look at her. She stands in front of the fire staring up at the pictures on the mantel. Her shadow dances in the firelight. She is amazing. Those legs. Hmm… seems Spain has been good to her. Stop staring, mate, or the Traitor will begin his salute. I clear my throat and she jumps slightly. She takes the goblet I offer her, then nods her thanks. She turns back toward the waving photographs.
“I’d forgotten about this one. It was seventh year, wasn’t it?”
A reflective smile jumps across my face as I reach for the photo of the three of us.
“Yeah. Just after the Cup match. Harry was so ecstatic.”
“I remember. He got so excited that he kissed Ginny right out in the middle of the pitch.”
“Suppose he never would have done that unless he was a bit giddy.”
“At least he did it.” She blushes immediately then quickly tries to recover against her insult. “Still, it turned out well for them, didn’t it?”
“I’d say two kids and five years of marriage is doing… ‘well’.”
I try to nod but only end up staring briefly in her eyes. I walk back toward the sofa and hope the tension will fade soon. She lingers on the pictures as I slump roughly onto the sofa. Shite. I knew we’d get around to this. What am I supposed to say? ‘Sorry, Hermione, that I was too spineless to tell you how much I loved you. Forgive me? Great! Now can we shag each other senseless?’ No. Don’t think that’d be appropriate. That’s not what she wants.
What does she want, then?
Oh… Here she comes. Please sit in the armchair. Not the sofa. NOT the sofa, Hermione. Please not the… FUCK! She’s sitting too close. She gives me a smile, Merlin, help me. I have to distract myself.
“So… er… how is Spain?”
“Fine, but I’m thinking of moving back here.”
“Really?!!?” Shite, too eager, Weasley. I can see her snicker. Ugh… this isn’t good. I’m too anxious, but Godric, I can’t help it. Her? Here?
Oh, the possibilities.
Stop it! Come on, mate, get it together. That’s not what she wants. I’m not what she wants. Again, what does she want? Fuck if I know, but I’m sure it’s not me! But she kissed me. A lot. Of course, there’s a big difference between a few snogs and well… that.
“Yes, your dad told me there was a position opening up in the Charms and Research Department at the Ministry.”
“Is that what you do in Spain? Charms and Research?” That’s it; keep her talking. Maybe she’ll bore the randiness out of me.
“Yes. I was the Undersecretary of the Charms Operative Program. Then I was promoted to the Department of Developmental Research, then… ”
She babbles now, but I can’t concentrate on what she says. I’m too focused on her mouth: that luscious, pink mouth. It’s so soft and tempting. I just want those lips wrapped tightly around my… FUCK! Why am I doing this to myself? First, I endured public humiliation and now this bloody self-conscious restraint. Why not just pull her on top of me and plough inside her?
Mmmm, that’s an image.
Shite! Stop it!
Yes, Weasley, but haven’t you wanted to do that for ages?
It’s the Traitor. Just staring at her, watching her face flush with passion while she talks about her work makes that Traitorous Sod twitch. He tries to convince me to attack her.
But she wants it, too, you tosser! She groped and kneaded at you in the alley. She moaned, for fuck’s sake!
Well, she probably just reacted instinctively. It’s just polite to respond when someone kisses you.
Now that’s a load of rot and you know it!
Maybe, but it’s been years. Why would she want me after all this time? She’s probably got some bloke back in Spain. Shite, I hope not.
She’s quiet. I jump when her hand comes to rest on my knee.
“Ron? Are you all right? You look distracted.”
“I’m… fine.” Okay, ignore the fact that she’s rubbing your knee. It doesn’t mean what you think it means.
“Are you sure? Your face is paling.”
“No. No, I’m fine. I was just trying to concentrate on what you were saying.” She tries not to laugh. I must sound like an arse. She laughs outright. “What?”
“You. Some things have changed, Ron, but your expressions certainly haven’t. I can tell when you’re lying.”
“I wasn’t… ”
“Yes you were. The tip of your nose gets pink when you lie. It’s all right. You don’t have to pretend to be interested in my work.”
“But I am.” Bugger, more laughing. It’s useless. “Okay, I'm not. Stop laughing! It’s not funny.”
She throws her head back, laughing harder. She flops against the sofa but her hand remains on my leg. In fact as she leans back, her palm slides up to my thigh. FUCK! The Traitor will soon return to active duty. I give her a weak smile then swallow the large bundle of nerves in my throat. She lets her lingering laugh muffle into her goblet. Shite, I never thought I’d want to be made of glass until this moment.
I can’t stop staring at her and she notices. “What is it? If you aren't listening to me, then what are you thinking of, Ron?”
Her pupils have darkened and her brow lifts in curiosity. I take a large gulp of my Firewhiskey to stall, but our eyes are locked.
“I… uh, I guess I just wonder why you aren't… erm, angry about what happened.”
“Oh.” She sounds disappointed. “Well, I figured that you humiliating yourself is punishment enough. Besides… ”
Why is she putting her goblet down?
“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
Why is she scooting closer to me? I growl slightly. “Long… time?” There is no air in my lungs.
She smirks then wraps her arm around my shoulder across the back of the sofa. Where’s her other hand… HELLO, there it is! Traitor, I’m warning you…
“Yes, it’s been seven years since we’ve seen each other. I didn’t want anger to stop me… ”
OH, FUCK! If she inches her hand just slightly to the left, then I’m truly and utterly dead.
“Stop you?”
“Yes, stop me from catching up with you.”
“Catch… catching up?”
I can’t stop myself from stuttering when her lips are so close to my ear. Mmmm. Oh, bollocks, not the sucking, Hermione. I can’t… I can’t concentrate when you… fuck… Oh!
“Catching up. You know, with your life. Your work… Your family… Who you shag.”
Uh, oh. Try to recover. Try hard. Shite.
“I don’t… I mean I have, but not late… lately.”
And there’s the tongue. I have to stop this. It’s too quick. Well, it is only a bit of play not… not… Mmmm.
Her tongue traces the curve of my lobe. Oh, Great Godric, and yes… of course… the Traitor begins to squirm. Bugger.
“How long, Ron? How long has it been since you’ve had a good shaaagg?”
She draws out the last word with a deep, husky drawl.
Dear Zeus, please kill me now. It’s okay. Twenty-six years is long enough. I’m ready to die now.
“Erm… uh… six… six months.”
She stops then pulls back. Fuck. I prefer her torture.
“Six months?”
My eyes widen. Did I just tell the desirable, wanton, love of my life that I haven’t shagged anyone in six months? Fuck. I may as well have given her a loaded gun.
“Er… ”
“Why so long?”
“I’ve, uh, been busy.”
She gives me an odd stare. Oh, shite, I don’t like that smirk. It looks dangerous.
“That’s far too long, Ron.”
And the tongue returns. Okay. I’ve gone through Auror training. I am a professional. I can take this, no prob… prob… problem. She whispers in my ear. Oh… she wants to put her what on my where? That sounds like… fun. Her palm lifts to my chest. Is that? No, that can’t be her fingers squeezing my nipple! Okay, if I don’t respond, she’ll think I’m not interested. I’ve got to do something, but nothing too extreme. I can’t let her think that’s all I want. She lets a soft moan escape her mouth and I lift her chin up to capture her lips. Oh, Merlin, I’m not going to make it. This is spectacular, brilliant. She’s amazing. She’s soft and… FUCK, FUCK, FUCKIDITY FUCK!
“Hermione!” I grab her hand just before she gets my zipper all the way down. She looks at me incredulously and, if I’m not mistaken, offended.
“What’s wrong, Ron? Don’t you want to?”
HUH? Is she mad? Of course I do but… but…
But what, you prat? You want her! This is Hermione!
Exactly the point. It’s Hermione. The only girl I’ve ever loved. The girl whose heart I pulverized into powder. She deserves more than a quick shag!
So give her more.
I blink my eyes back into focus. I hadn’t noticed her pull back from me and dart from the sofa. She rants, but the only words I catch throw me into a deep pool of regret.
“I should have known! You didn’t want me seven years ago; why should that have changed? Merlin! I can’t even manage to shag a wizard who’s been celibate for six months!”
She’s flustered and heads toward the door. She glances over her shoulder and I can see the embarrassment cover her face.
“I’m sorry, Ron. I didn’t mean to… I just thought that after how jealous you were tonight… I guess I thought… Circe, I’m just so sorry. I’ve got to go!”
GET OFF YOUR BOLLOCKS, WEASLEY!
“Wait! Hermione, please don’t go. I’m sorry. It’s my fault entirely. Please stay?” I’m in front of her in three long strides. She looks shocked. “I’m sorry, love. It’s not that I don’t want you. Hell, I wanted you then, but I’m such a tosser, a coward, really; I just didn’t want you ‘settling’.”
I can’t look in her eyes. I don’t want to see the agreement in them. I feel her palms cupping my chin, forcing it up.
“Is that what you thought-what you think? That I am ‘settling’ if I choose to be with you?”
My eyes fall again and I speak in a whisper. “You’re brilliant; I’m not. You’re beautiful; I’m average. I was just a poor, skinny, freckled wisp of a boy. You deserved the best, Hermione and I wasn’t even close to being that. I'm still not.
“Ron, you little idiot.” She doesn’t say anything else for a moment; she simply cements her body to mine, then brushes my lips sweetly with hers. “You may have thought you were average and thin, but you were mine. You were mine the moment I watched you straddle that horse and sacrifice yourself for Harry. You were eleven years old and you fascinated me. You incensed me. You took my heart without ever trying. How could you be second best, Ron, when I always knew wizards weren’t ever made any better than you? There could never be anyone else for me. The only way I would be ‘settling’ is if I’d choose anyone other than you.”
I can only stare at her. Words fail to travel from my mind to my mouth. She smiles sweetly, trying to say all that’s in her heart. Her eyes glisten slightly and she shakes her head in disbelief. I’m frozen. I can only give off a blank, completely dumbfounded stare. She curls her palms around my jaw, then waits for my response.
“Say something, Ron.”
My mouth is dry, but I force my voice forward.
“I… I’m thinking so many things that I can’t decide which one to speak first.”
She smiles softly. “Answer one question for me?” I nod quickly. “Do you love me? Do you want to be with me?”
“That’s two questions.” Shut up, Weasley!
“Shut up and answer.” Is she reading my mind? I don’t even have to think about my answer.
“Yes… and shite, yes!”
“Then why are we talking?” I smile widely then allow my shoulders to sag in relaxation.
“That’s a bloody good question and right now, I don’t want to answer it.”
I don’t give her a chance to respond. Like a wizard possessed, I drive my mouth over hers and immediately dart my tongue in. We both relish the soft dance of our lapping muscles and moan loudly. It becomes fevered and anxious quickly, but she doesn’t seem to mind. As for me… fuck, what do you think?
Hands knead, nibble, and suckle gently, in complete contrast to the sounds emitting from our throats. She pants, I growl. She moans, I gasp. The Traitor is in full combat now, but I have no intention of reprimanding. In one eager movement I pull her tight toward me, intentionally grinding my hips into her body, trying to weaken her slightly, but I soon discover that my gesture is pointless. She’s more wanton than any witch I’ve ever seen. She responds by jumping quickly and wrapping her legs around my hips. I whimper like a wounded animal and I can feel her smirk against my lips. Her tongue rams so deep in my mouth that I can’t even feel my own anymore. Her hands fist in my hair as I grind against her slowly. Her breath is broken and jagged as she pulls away and stares in my eyes.
“Let’s go to bed, Ron.”
THANK YOU, MERLIN!
I don’t respond immediately. My lips capture her mouth as I turn us around and stride through the den toward my bedroom. I don’t know how I carry her through my flat without tripping over my own feet or knocking into the…
“FUCK!”
“Ow! Uh… Ron, your elbow.”
“Huh?”
“Your elbow. It’s pulling on my hair.”
“Oh. Sorry, love.”
Shite. Smooth, Weasley, real smooth. Damn bloody feet; at least the carpet it plush. I lift myself off of her and hold out my hand to raise her from the floor in front of my bedroom door. She smiles at my clumsiness.
“Guess that didn’t enhance the mood, did it?”
“It’s okay. I guess I wasn’t helping.”
“No, Hermione, you were helping… I like your legs wrapped around me.”
She’s blushing; that’s a good sign.
“Come on,” she says as she pulls me through the doorway.
I follow her like an innocent lamb to the slaughter.
Innocent? Yeah, right, Weasley. You’re about as innocent as Mundungus is honest.
So maybe I’m not innocent. Maybe I’m some randy sod who has internal conversations with his own knob. Maybe, right now I could drive said knob into a sheet of iron, thanks to you, Traitor.
And her.
Okay, and her, but this isn’t going to be lecherous. This is us; she and I… finally.
And it’s about ruddy time!
Shut it.
I don’t say anything. I simply watch her as she guides me toward the bed. She’s magnificent, even if she is still fully clothed. Her eyes are alight with fire. They’re deep and pooled with desire. Her lips are swollen and bright pink and seem to be itching for more contact. So I decide to scratch them. I dart toward her feverishly and chuckle to myself when I hear her whimper. Damn, she’s getting rough. Her nails dig painfully into my shoulders, but it’s a sweet ache. Who knew a little pain would turn me on? I growl… again, then pull us both down onto my bed, her body atop mine. At this moment I want nothing more than to strip her and immediately drive hard and deep into her soft body, but I know it would be over too soon and that’s something I don’t want.
Oh, come on Weasley. It isn’t as if I can’t jump back up a few minutes later.
No. And shut it. I’m not listening to you anymore.
I have to restrain myself… just a bit. I want this done right. I want to be brilliant. I don’t even have to wonder about her brilliance. I pull away slightly, soaking in her flushed face and swollen lips. I smile softly but she only stares.
“What is it, Ron?”
A small sigh passes through my lips. “Nothing’s wrong, love. I… I just want to enjoy this. I want this to be… slow.”
She growls.
“All right. What would you like me to do?”
“Nothing. Just enjoy.”
Her eyes have widened as I lift her up then flip her around so that her back is flat against the bed. A rough groan shakes my throat as I note her top teeth covering her bottom lip. Shite, she’s sexy when she does that. She looks at me expectantly. Okay, Weasley, be smooth. Be calm. Be… sexy. Fuck, can I do sexy? Guess we’ll see.
She watches me closely as I hover above her and my hands slide to her hips. My hands shake slightly as I fumble with her zipper then pull her slacks down to her ankles.
Great buggering holy fuck! Look at those knickers! Black… black and satin and, oh, shite… I’ll come on myself if I focus on those for too long. I shut my eyes tightly and she chuckles. She knows me so well. I try to pull her slacks past her feet but they’re stuck on the complicated sandals she’s wearing. She lifts up on her elbows to stare at me.
“I can get those, Ron.”
“No. No, I can do it.”
What kind of sick fuck designed these? I’ve never seen so many buckles and straps in my life. Okay. Fine. I try the buckles first. Shite, they’re beyond me. Am I that daft? Yes… yes, I probably am. Fuck it. I’ll just pull them off. I reach for the large strap at the back of her ankle. I tug. Nothing. Shite! I pull and tug and concentrate so hard that I don’t hear what she mumbles about. I’m a wizard possessed.
Fuck these shoes! I straddle her leg with my back toward her and give the sodding strap one final, grunting yank and it immediately breaks. The momentum sends me forward and I now lie face down on the hearth in front of the fire. My nose is rubbed raw and I know there are carpet burns on my cheeks. I grumble to myself in humiliation. No, I definitely can’t do sexy. My mood lifts, however, when I hear her hysterical laughs behind me. I roll over and rest on my elbows.
“Funny, is it?”
“Merlin, yes. You’re so stubborn. If you’d just let me… then you wouldn’t have ended
up… ”
Rolls of giggles overtake her and I just smile. I stand and make my way back to the bed. I lean over her and give that lopsided grin that I know she likes. “Glad to see my pain and injuries are so amusing to you, Ms. Granger.”
She sobers from her laughing fit. “Oh. You… you are injured. Pity, that.”
“Why?”
“I can’t very well shag an injured wizard, now can I?”
“Oh, I think I’m up for this.”
“I bet you are.” I jerk and moan when she brushes the tent of my trousers.
Fuck. “No, no, no. Not yet, miss. My turn first.”
“Hmm. Interesting.”
“Yes, love. It will be.”
Her eyebrow arches. Yes, that’s right. Be curious. Be very curious, love. Her lip curls into a seductive smirk.
“And what, exactly, are you going to do to me, Mr. Weasley?”
I return her smirk. I wiggle my eyebrows and she blushes. “I’m going to make you moan.”
“You’ve done that.”
“Yes, but this time you’ll be adding screaming to the moans.”
A fiery glint invades her eyes. “And how are you going to do that? Are you going to try to pull off my other foot?”
I blush.
Fuck.
I recover. “No, but I am going to taste every inch of your body.”
“Well then, get on with it!”
I obey the order. Well, I try to anyway, but the other bleeding sandal remains. I look down at her foot then casually glance up at her face. She rolls her eyes. Come on, Hermione; don’t get frustrated. She smiles. Good. Just a brief pause… She quickly removes her other shoe.
How the fuck? Yes, I am daft… apparently, very daft. She leans back expectantly as I rid her of her slacks.
Now, I’ve always been a patient person. Okay, so no, I haven’t, but over time, I’ve learned to tame my eagerness… a bit. But now she lays here in only her knickers and shirt and that soft mound tempts me. Fuck, this is going to be hard… er… difficult.
I can’t take the easy way out. I’ve got try to reserve my keenness. Just breathe, mate. Just breathe. Don’t think too long on the fact that her naked flesh and presumably soft, dark curls are separated from your touch by a criminally thin bit of satin.
Someone please, for the love of Merlin, kill me… now.
I shake away the thought and set about at my task. I look down at her, scanning the firm arch of her thighs that are so dark and muscular and tempting, and I want nothing more than to… FUCK! Get it together, Weasley.
Okay. I can do this. Front last, that’s the only way I will be able to keep myself together. I reach down and start to guide her shirt up. She helps me along and once I throw her shirt across the room, I gasp.
Loudly.
The bra matches her knickers. Mmmm. I do the only thing I can think of that will allow me a bit more reserve. I cover her mouth hungrily with my own and the low groan from her throat makes me smile.
“Ron?”
“Shh. Just wait.” Ha! How’d I get the nerve to, at least, act so in control? I clear my throat and begin to trail my tongue down her neck. Merlin, she tastes sweet. The cocoa taste again. I want to taste her, every part of her.
So I do.
I flip her over then straddle her hips. She protests but I quickly silence her with my mouth on her earlobe.
“I won’t hurt you. You know that, right?”
“Yes, but… ”
“I told you, I want to taste every part of you, so just enjoy this. Okay?”
She nods and I begin my exploration. I nibble her lobe gently then let my tongue slide down the nape of her neck. She’s shivering. Oh, just wait, love. It gets better. I intentionally slow my movements as my mouth glides onto her shoulders then down the arch of her spine. She moans and the sound is a sweet melody. I glance quickly up at her face as my fingers crawl to the clasp of her bra. I struggle with the contraption for a brief moment, then I smile when I hear her growl as the teeth break free and the offending material slides apart. I divide the separated material with my palms and she lifts up as I slide her bra off her shoulders. She stills and breathes heavily. This makes me smile. I ignore her pleas and continue my voyage. My hands lead my mouth down her waist and I suck her dark skin, making her squirm as I reach the ticklish flesh.
“Gods, Ron… that’s heaven.”
Oh, you have no idea. My knob is so hard that I nearly lose concentration, but I forge onward. The anticipation is almost more exciting than the act. Almost.
Now I’m face to face, so to speak, with that beautiful, hard, perfectly round arse. I suck in a deep breath then continue. My hands cup her bottom and I squeeze and rub, making her coo loudly. I focus on the satin and slowly, deliberately so, lift the elastic of her knickers with my fingers. Desperate, wanton pleas lower the timbre of her voice, but I continue. Sorry, love this is just too much fun.
I pull the material down with two fingers and a sharp, constricting growl jars my breath. I can’t help it. It’s bloody unavoidable. I lower my mouth then gently suck on that firm mound. Merlin, even her arse tastes sweet. Can’t linger here for too long. I… must… continue.
I lower my mouth, licking gently down the back of her legs, onto her thighs then into the slight bend of her knees. I lift her foot and cautiously suck on her toes, causing her to giggle then moan softly. I can’t believe my restraint. I am touching Hermione… intimately, and the Traitor pulses with need. I ignore him and get to do what I deem the true test of my restraint. With a soft grip, I turn her over and the instant my eyes scan the front of her body, the Traitor jumps.
FUCK!!! How the bloody hell am I going to do this? No, Weasley, control yourself. You can do it… you can get through this.
I lift my eyes to hers and just the sight of her darkened, covetous pools send me into a heavy pant. I swallow my nerves, trying to ignore the fact that my body grazes against her naked flesh, and dive into her mouth. She pulls at the hem of my shirt, trying to free me from my constricting clothing. I smile against her lips at her impatience, then I lean back, straddling her.
“You want me naked?”
She voice is jarred and broken. “Yes… bloody hell, yes, Ron!”
A swift gleam of pride fills my eyes, then I quickly start to unbutton my shirt. Outwardly I may appear to be a wizard in complete control, but inwardly, I’m dying and want nothing more than to plunge inside her. I retain my resolve and slowly let my hands weave down to the last button. I sweep the shirt off my shoulders and watch, completely amazed, as Hermione’s eyes become darker still and her chest rises and falls rapidly. Huh, imagine that. I guess I can do the sexy bit.
She pulls me down on top of her, driving her tongue into my mouth, wrapping her legs around my hips and it takes every fibre of restraint that I possess not to forfeit my torture. But, I know it’s better this way. I reach behind my neck and pull her hands away, causing a frustrated growl to escape from her throat.
“RON!”
I try to refrain from chuckling, but she’s so damn adorable when she’s annoyed. “Wait, love. Just wait.”
“I’ve waited long enough… ten years in fact!”
“Oi… Testy when you’re not getting what you want, aren’t you?”
She folds her arms across her chest then… is that a huff? Is she pouting? Merlin, now who's acting like a toddler?
“Then why don’t you give me what I want?”
“Oh, I’ll give you what you want.” I wiggle my brows and laugh at the blush that flashes across her face. She tries to respond, but I silence her with a quick nibble at the bottom slope of her neck.
Shite, her skin is hot. It nearly burns my lips, but I don’t bloody well care. Her hands immediately fist in my hair and I smile against her skin as I feel her pushing me downward. My nose rubs against the top of her breast and I instinctively inhale. Cinnamon. Sweet, tempting cinnamon, that’s what she smells like. With one hand on her hip and the other cupping a breast, I pull back slightly and look at her bare flesh. She’s a miracle… a complete and absolute example of eternal perfection. Her breasts aren’t overly large, but they are still impressive. They are firm and soft and look as though they’ve been dipped in a vat of honey. The nipples are round and slightly russet and I can hardly control the temptation of engulfing one entirely into my mouth.
So I don’t.
I suck gently, but my tongue flicks manically against the peak. I feel her squirming underneath me and the action is scarcely bearable. How is it that I haven’t come in my pants? How is it that I haven’t given up all measure of control and plunged into her? I’ve no idea.
Her writhing is unnerving and completely erotic. The Traitor literally thumps against my trousers, seemingly trying to move out of them. I ignore both the randy sod and the moaning witch beneath me and turn my attention to her other breast, but I’m not callous. As my mouth and tongue tease her right breast, the tips of my finger squeeze the peak of the left. Her breathing is erratic and I can feel the tension welling inside her as her heartbeat jumps rapidly.
“Ron… please… this… this is torture.”
Exactly the point, love. I look up at her and my heart nearly breaks at the play of need in her eyes. I give her a nod and a brief smile then inch further down her body. My tongue leaves a moist trail below her bellybutton until I’m finally at her centre. I sigh roughly, nearly losing all composure as my palm spoons the dark locks and I rest on my elbow staring down at what must be the most beautiful display of skin and curls ever known to wizarding kind. I pet her slowly, my mind buzzing with the paradoxical need to please the both of us, and the desire to make this experience drawn out and memorable.
I separate the brim of her lips and slowly slip one finger inside her.
Holy. Fuck.
This has got to be the warmest thing I’ve ever felt. No, not warm… Searingly hot… and wet. Is that for me? Bloody hell, she’s wetter than a thousand stinksaps in the middle of the Hogwarts Lake!
“Oh… Merlin, Ron!”
Okay, evidently, she likes this. So do I. What am I saying? Like this? Huh, that’s a bloody massive understatement.
I try to get past the jig that the Traitor is doing and concentrate on the task at hand. Hermione tugs at the sheets at her side and her writhing has reached the point of distraction. With my free hand I still her hips then slowly inch down further. I give her one last glance then shudder when I note that blasted lip biting again.
Merlin, Zeus, and Circe, please help me!!
I push back my own need and dip my mouth over the protruding node. Instantly, she wails. I moan as I taste her, properly, for the first time. She smells erotic and primal, but it’s all so fucking good.
I become frantic with trying to please her. I inch in another finger, trying to measure her reaction. She sobs, but it isn’t in pain or upset. My name rockets away from her lips and I can feel her walls enclosing around my fingers. The Traitor is becoming overactive. I don’t think, no, I know I can’t manage to restrict myself for much longer. I know she’s close, exceedingly so. I increase my torture. She moans and growls and sounds very much like Grawp. It’s so erotic to hear those unexpected words expelling from my sweet, innocent, Hermione’s mouth. Okay, not that innocent.
“Yes, Ron, right… THERE!”
Her walls are vice-like and my body immediately reacts. I let her shudder and wail and completely fall apart as she climaxes, but I’ve no intention of letting her relax for very long. Her breathing settles slightly and just as I see her shoulders relax and the tension ease from her body, I withdraw my fingers and immediately start tearing my trousers and boxers from my body. I dart on top of her and quickly spread her legs apart, but when her hands push back on my chest, I freeze.
“Hermione, what? I have to… ”
“Oh, no you don’t Ronald Weasley.”
What the fuck!??!!
“Please, love, I have to be inside of you… now!”
She pushes me back further and the Traitor screams, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HER? I’M DYING, WEASLEY! DID YOU KNOW THAT? I AM FECKING DYING!
She gives me a menacing stare. “Oh, you will be soon enough, but did you really think I could let you tease and torture me like that without retaliating?”
Fuck me… I’m in trouble.
“Hermione… I… please… this is killing me!”
“Good.” She pushes me back then settles between my knees. “You think that was clever, don’t you? You think you were driving me mad?”
“Well… yeah… you didn’t like it?” Oh great, you wait ten years to touch her and she thinks you were complete rubbish at it.
“I didn’t say that. I loved it. It was brilliant.”
“But?”
“But you teased me and now… ”
FUCK ME, WHAT DID I DO?
“Now?” My voice is weak and my stomach spins with… is that… fear?
“Now, Mr. Weasley, it’s my turn.”
I can see the tombstone:
Here lies Ronald B. Weasley.
Auror, friend, complete and utter wanker.
He died as he lived: at the wanton hands of Hermione Granger.
He met death smiling.
It’s her turn. FUCK. That’s scary and a bit erotic. There’s no way I’ll be able to restrain myself. No bloody, buggering, fucking way I’ll last. Whatever she plans, she’ll be disappointed. One touch and the Traitor will weaken. I know it. I’m helpless. There isn’t a bloody thing I can do but enjoy this quick death.
She bends down slowly, too slowly for my patience, all the while locking her eyes onto mine. With menacing sluggishness, she wraps her delicate fingers around my knob and I instantly shudder.
“What’s the matter, love? Does that hurt?” She’s not concerned… trust me. That is a vindictive little smirk spread across her face.
I become a blubbering idiot. “N… n… no. Feels… good.”
“What’s that?”
Speech is impossible at this moment. She chuckles softly and I growl as her hands begin to quickly run up and down my shaft.
Oh… Merlin… please, help me!!
Ah… where are you now, Traitor??? Abandoned me, have you?
Sod off, Weasley, I… I… I’m… busy.
Her pace increases and just as I think I can bare no more, her mouth sinks down on me and I am literally spent.
HOLY FUCKING, BUGGERING SHITE!
Sweet, Godric, her mouth is so tight around me. I… I can’t think. Fuck that, I can’t breathe. Her tongue laps in waves around the tip of my knob and the sucking… fuck me, the sucking… I try to fight it. I try so bleeding hard to fight off that sweet spinning that has been threatening me all night. It would be so easy just to let go, but I don’t want it, not yet. I want us together, to have it happen to the pair of us at the same time. But, Merlin that feels good. Her tongue is soft and warm and her mouth is tight. Just a few more lunges downward and I’ll be… FUCK! NO!
“Ron? What… ”
I can no longer stomach it. This is it. Without a word I push her off of me then quickly spin her around. She’s underneath me now and I’m not even distracted by her chuckling. She arches her brow, bites that… oh, bugger… bites her lip and I lean in, stabbing her mouth with my tongue.
“I can’t… not another second, Hermione. I’ve got to be in you… no arguments, I hope?”
She folds her arms across her chest and gives me a pseudo glare. “Not much fun, is it?”
“Shite, yes it is, but… but… ”
“Shut up, Ron… and fuck me.”
Zeus, Merlin, Hera, and Rheia… did she just say fuck? Oh… man, I’m in trouble. There’s no bloody way I’ll ever be able to stop shagging her. I growl in earnest, then roughly divide her legs. In one fluid movement I enter her and immediately, we both gasp.
Was I alive before this moment? I doubt it, highly. I thrust into her and she bucks against me, wailing out my name, making the Traitor dance gleefully. Suddenly, without any real reason, it hits me. I am, quite possibly, the most daft, idiotic, completely oblivious wanker of a wizard that has ever lived. This witch, this beautiful, intelligent, criminally sensual witch has loved me more than half of her life. And what of me? I’ve loved her just as long. So what the bleeding fuck was my problem? I was a coward, spineless and immature. Damnit, Weasley, do you realize you could have had this for ten years? I should be sent to Azkaban because it must be an unforgivable crime to deny Hermione Granger.
Are those… tears stinging my eyes? Bloody hell. Look what she does to me. I’ve become a weepy, pathetic git. Fuck it. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care if I die trying-I’m going to make this the best she’s ever known.
Instantly I’m a new wizard. She whimpers slightly, but I overlook it. This is good… this being inside her, feeling her clench around me, but I’m going to make it so much better. I pull back, nearly completely out, her then deftly thrust back. Her tightened eyes immediately pop open and her mouth morphs into a shocked circle. She smirks.
“Like that do you, love?”
She doesn’t speak. She simply nods quickly. I wiggle my brows then force them into concentration. What I feel is pushed aside. I forget the sensation, forget how full my heart is, forget everything I thought I knew about how to receive pleasure. All of it is rot now… all except pleasing her, making her scream and shake until her body no longer feels like her own.
I pull back slightly and nudge her legs up, draping them onto my chest. I grab her calves for leverage and then, quickly, I drive into her with such acceleration that the Traitor starts to scream.
No, Weasley, don’t!! I can’t take it… really, are you intentionally trying to kill me?
Sod the fuck off, you!
Her moans have evolved in low, raspy growls and I smile. I feel her squeezing around my knob and I know she’s nearly there. I thrust faster… faster still and, like clockwork, she crashes. Her arms fly above her head, her hips arch, and I can see those pearl-white teeth draping over her lower lip, trying to squelch her release.
“No, love, don’t do that. Scream for me, please.”
She obliges and my ears are now ringing from her yelps of pleasure. Her arms are limp and she stares up at me with a lazy, nearly silly smile on her face. It’s not enough. She deserves more so I continue. I see her eyes rolling and feel the shudders that run through her body. I know what she’s thinking. She’s waiting for me, but I’ve long since ignored the Traitor’s voice. I release one of her legs then lick my thumb. She sees the gesture and her eyes begin to bulge.
“Ron what are you doing?”
“Shh… this is for you.”
“What’s for… Sweet, Godric, Ron! I’ve already… ”
I shrug my shoulders then let my thumb gently massage her nub. She reaches up to push my hand away, but I shake my head in disapproval.
“No, love… once more.”
“I… I can’t… you… you haven’t even… ”
“Don’t worry about me, and yes… yes you can.”
She whimpers, completely taken aback. She’s still arguing with me, though her words are not audible. My thumb accelerates and I can feel her, once again, clench around me. Gods, if this is death, then I welcome it… gladly. Soon her breath jars and her hips arch slightly. She draws in a deep, ragged gasp then comes… hard. I can feel her fluids wash over me like a steaming rain. She’s completely drained, I can see the exhaustion spread across her face, but she seems to forget fatigue as she lowers her legs and flips me onto my back. I’m fascinated, if not completely shocked. Merlin… she is going to kill me.
She is silent as she looks down at me and then straddles my aching flesh. She lifts up a bit and squats slightly, resting her weight on her feet and steadying herself, hands on my chest.
HOLY, SODDING, FUCKING, BLEEDING HELL!
I swear, my knob must be somewhere near her stomach. I’ve never been this deep in anyone. She rocks quickly, pistoning on top of me and I barely register the screams the Traitor is making. She moves faster and after a few quick movements, I growl uncontrollably and feel myself floating. White streams of pleasure swim through my eyes as I come harder than ever before in my life.
I moan, no… I scream her name and we both fall weakly into exhaustion. She’s at my side, her breathing just as uneven and ragged as my own. I try to turn toward her, but my body won’t allow it. Lowly, I can hear the Traitor whimper.
Marry her, Weasley. For the love of Merlin, marry this one.
I chuckle silently then nod. Not a bad idea.
I feel her arm drape my waist and I instinctively grab her, pulling her close so that her cheek can rest on my heaving chest. My eyes can barely stay lifted, but I manage to kiss the top of her head and squeeze her shoulder gently.
“Hermione?”
“Hmmm?”
“You’re amazing.”
She laughs. “Yes, well, I’ve got no complaints about you, love.”
I know she’s drifting away. I can hear her breath become even and slow.
“Hermione?”
She doesn’t answer, she simply lifts her eyes toward mine.
“I love you.”
A smile flashes across her face and she sighs. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear that?”
“I’m sorry, love. I was an idiot.”
“And a wanker.”
“Yes. Definitely a wanker.”