HP Smutfic: Harry's "Other" Birthday Present
Title: Harry's "Other" Birthday Present
Rating: Mature
Words: 7,524
Summary: Chapter 5 outtake from Heal the Pain.
Following the best birthday he's ever had, Harry's got another surprise in store from his Ginny.
"That wasn't fair, either," Harry growled playfully, looking up at her.
Ginny grinned and bent down in a lightning change of mood, lacing her fingers with Harry's as she lowered herself to lie down atop him. "Neither is this," she whispered, and fastened her mouth on his for a soul-searing kiss.
Rational thought disappeared, and he raised his arms above his head, pulling her closer before tugging his hands free and sliding them along her back, one toward her hips, the other upward to tangle into her hair. Her legs separated, sliding along the outside of Harry's thighs, and he moaned as he felt her hips shifting against his. She pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. "I think," she purred in a throaty voice very like the one she'd used when she'd seen him in the dragonhide earlier, "that it's time for your other present."
"'Tis better to give than to receive," he agreed, and kissed her again.
"Oh, you'll be doing both tonight," she murmured silkily against his lips. "I guarantee it." She sat up, sliding off Harry and rising to her feet, holding her hand out to him. He took it and stood as well, bringing his discarded t-shirt. Her eyes glowed with promise, and he felt an answering glow in his groin. She kissed him, then, still holding him by the hand, led him into the house.
They walked swiftly through the darkened living room, dousing the kitchen light as they went. At the foot of the stairs, Ginny stopped and turned to him. He felt, rather than saw, her smile as her small hands reached up to frame his face and pull him down for a soft, gentle kiss. He let her take the lead as her mouth moved softly over his. Her tongue flickered at the seam of his lips and he opened his mouth obligingly. She kept it slow, exploring languorously. He rested his hands on her waist and let her, trying to ignore the increasingly insistent throbbing below his belt.
At last she pulled away, caressing his cheekbones with her thumb before taking his hand again and starting up the stairs. To his surprise, he discovered that his knees were a bit weak as they started climbing. When was the last time that happened? he thought.
She opened the door to her bedroom, then turned and kissed him again. She smelled of strawberries and summer. "I have to go…prepare," she whispered. A stripe of moonlight from her window fell across her face, illuminating the glint of-mischief? Anticipation?-in her eyes. "Why don't you go inside and make yourself…comfortable?" She tugged lightly at the belt loops of his jeans to emphasise her point, then dropped a soft kiss on his bare chest before letting go and heading up the stairs toward the bathroom.
Bemused, aroused, and more than a little curious, he watched her go, then went into her room and shut the door. Toeing off his shoes, he unfastened his jeans and stepped out of them, folding them neatly and laying them across the back of her desk chair, then folding his shirt and draping it over the jeans. His socks followed. He considered whether to take his boxers off too, then decided against it. He propped himself up on her bed, her pillows at his back, and disposed himself to wait.
What could she be doing? he wondered, watching the shadows from the tree outside dancing across the wall. Dean and Seamus used to complain about their girlfriends saying that, too. What do women do when they leave to ‘prepare'?
Trying to settle his hormones a bit, he amused himself for a few moments, picturing Ginny sitting at a Muggle vanity table, spraying herself with expensive perfume á la some movie star. The whole image was so foreign to Ginny's personality that he almost chuckled. But that vision was pushed from his mind by the sound of the door opening.
What women did became suddenly very clear.
Ginny slipped inside, shutting the door quietly behind her, and Harry sat up abruptly, eyes wide. Instead of her usual dressing gown, she was wearing something silky, shimmery, and short-it only came to mid-thigh. The tie holding it closed was only loosely secured, and the lapels gaped tantalisingly above her breasts. He swallowed convulsively. The arousal that had begun to settle down returned with force, and it was all he could do not to push himself off the bed, stalk over to her, and pull that dressing gown right off.
She smiled seductively. In the moonlight, the fabric looked nearly black against the fine ivory of her skin. "Since you're of age," she said, hands toying with the ends of the tie of her dressing gown, "why don't you make this a little more… private?"
Oh, God, she's purring.
Hands shaking just a bit, he fumbled for his wand, and then set the Silencing and Locking charms. He started to put his wand back, then paused and murmured another spell under his breath. The room was suddenly illuminated by a soft, diffuse light that was just enough to let them see each other. Now he could see that the dressing gown was a soft, iridescent, forest-green silk, and his hands itched to touch it. Controlling himself firmly, he sat on the edge of the bed, put his wand back on the bedside table, and waited for her to make the next move.
A smile curled one corner of her mouth and she took two swaying steps closer, until she was just within reach. She held out her hands and he placed his in hers, squeezing gently. The quirked corner became a real smile, and she stepped forward again, so she was standing just in front of his knees. Slowly, she brought his hands to the tie of her dressing gown. He tugged it loose, and then gasped as the material fell open.
Beneath the silk, Ginny wore a baby doll of loose-knit forest-green lace. It stretched over her breasts like a second skin, clearly showing her dusky areolas and nipples, then draped in rippling folds downward, ending just at the crease of hip and thigh.
Harry's mouth went dry.
He reached up to push the dressing gown off her shoulders. It fell to the floor in a puddle, but he hardly noticed; his eyes were focused on Ginny. His hands trailed down over the spaghetti straps, across her breasts, and down her abdomen, feeling her lithe, smooth body beneath the fabric. "Oh, God," he breathed, taking her in, unable to form any more coherent sound than that. His erection strained at his shorts. He couldn't remember ever having been so aroused just by the sight of her, not even their first time.
He let his hands continue down to the hem, then slide underneath, where he felt yet another scrap of the same lacy cloth running down between her thighs. It was attached to a narrow strip of elastic that ran over her hipbone. He followed the line of the elastic all the way around her until it joined another; his fingers traced it down to where it disappeared into the cleft of her buttocks.
He groaned deep in his chest and pulled her to him, his hands on her thighs, separating them and drawing her down to straddle his lap. He wrapped one arm about her waist to press her to him, and tangled the other hand in her hair, pulling her down for a scalding kiss. She responded, pressing her hips and breasts against him. His hand at her waist caressed her velvety back underneath the baby doll, sliding down over her bare bottom. He released her hair to bring his other hand down as well, kneading her soft flesh and groaning yet again as her hips shifted, rubbing against his hardness.
Her hands came between them and she broke the kiss, pulling away to look into his eyes. Hers were so dark with desire that they were almost black, her pupils dilated wide, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen. Gently she pushed against his chest, urging him wordlessly to lie back. He obeyed, never breaking eye contact.
I'm in love with the sexiest woman on the planet.
When he lay all the way back, she leaned forward on her hands, gently brushing her lips against his before trailing them across his jaw to his ear. He shut his eyes as her teeth closed gently on his earlobe, her tongue teasing it before she sucked his whole lobe into her warm mouth. A jolt shocked through him, centred in his groin, and a moan was dragged from him as his brain flashed a sudden image of that mouth elsewhere on his body. He felt her smile as she suckled gently, then she released his ear and continued her exploration downwards. He clutched at her bottom and bit his lip, fighting to hold still and let her go.
She kissed a trail of fire down the line of his throat, sucking gently at his pulse point, dipping her tongue into the hollow at the base of his throat, sliding soft lips and warm breath across his chest. Her fingers brushed across his taut muscles as she reached his breastbone, then he felt her lift her head. He kept his eyes closed, trying to catch his breath as his pulse pounded in his ears and fighting to stay in control of himself. He'd never seen this side of Ginny before, and it was almost more than he could comprehend.
He couldn't restrain a cry when he felt her mouth fasten on his left nipple, her tongue swirling round the outside before licking and teasing at the small, erect nub. He arched into her, his hands sliding up to her shoulders, hanging on as she drove him higher. Her fingers found his other nipple and began a similar torment as he gritted his teeth, willing himself not to roll them both over and exact sweet revenge. When her velvety tongue teased the edges of his burn scar, its sensitivity made the sensation almost more than he could bear.
God, whatever I did to deserve her, tell me what it was so I can do it again.
His hips were rocking slightly against hers, the cotton of his boxers and the lace of her lingerie a frustrating barrier. He didn't know how long he could stand this, and yet he didn't ever want it to end. When she turned her attentions to his other nipple, his brain presented him with an image in his mind's eye of the two of them: Ginny lying atop him, wearing nothing but a scrap of lace, her beautiful, talented mouth toying with him, her hair gently brushing his skin, her breasts swaying gently as she moved over him... He had to fight not to come from the image alone.
Ginny released his nipple at last. He felt her sit up, felt her hands tracing abstract patterns on his belly, and opened desire-drugged eyes to look at her.
She still straddled him, hovering over him looking like a very self-satisfied angel. He reached a hand up from her shoulders to take hold of a lock of her hair that had slipped forward to hang next to her face. It was silky and fine, and slipped through his fingers like water. "You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen," he whispered huskily.
She smiled, a brilliant, dazzling Ginny-smile, and leaned forward to kiss him again. Both of his hands twined into her hair this time, and he kissed her hard, feasting on her mouth. She moaned and shifted her hips against his. He ground his desire against her, revelling in the tiny whimper of need he wrenched from her. He pulled her away a couple of inches, his vision filled with her flushed, aroused expression. "I want you, Gin," he whispered, thrusting his hips upward against her again in illustration. "I want to be inside you."
He saw the shiver pass through her, and she closed her eyes for a moment. Pressing his advantage, he released her hair and took her breasts in his hands, rubbing his thumbs lightly over the hard, pebbled nipples. She inhaled sharply, then gave a throaty cry when he lifted his head to take one of them into his mouth, caressing and suckling it through the lace. He felt a sudden surge of dampness where she was pressed intimately against him, spreading through the fabric that separated them, and he had to stop and grit his teeth again to keep himself from exploding. His hands gently kneaded her, thumbs still fanning her nipples. "Gin, please," he said raggedly, the strain of holding himself back making his voice rough.
She looked at him, and he saw her eyes darken. She crossed her arms to grasp the baby doll by the hem, and pulled it up and over her head in one fluid movement, leaving her in nothing but the scrap of lace that served her as panties.
All attempt at reason fled. Harry growled and flipped the two of them over, then knelt up to put his arms beneath her and lift her into the middle of the bed. He quickly stripped her of the lace as she pushed at the waistband of his boxers, shoving them down over his hips. He got them the rest of the way off, and then he was lowering himself into the cradle of her thighs and she was wrapping her legs around his waist, drawing him into her tight, wet warmth. He sank into her with one smooth thrust, drawing a cry of pleasure and need from both of them. He pulled out and pushed back in, trembling with the unbelievable sensations her velvety heat was causing in him. He wanted to hear her cry out again, to hear her whimper, moan, scream his name...
He shifted, angling upward and driving hard into her. She arched against him, throwing her head back and clutching his shoulders with her fingers as he felt a ripple shudder through her. "Harry-!" she whimpered. "God, Harry…please!"
His vision narrowed as another surge passed through him, and he lost all semblance of control. He drove into her with abandon and she bucked against him, their rhythm quickly becoming frantic. He lowered himself to his elbows, sliding his hands beneath her to grip her shoulders as he pulled her closer. "Gin," he gasped into her ear as he thrust, "come for me love, please come for me, want to hear you, want to feel you, please…"
Her legs slipped from around him to brace her feet against the bed, and she thrust upward against him, hard, taking him deeper than she ever had and drawing an involuntary cry from him. "Harry!" she screamed, and he felt the pulsing of her orgasm begin within her as she tumbled over the precipice, drawing him with her. His whole body began to quake with hers as he throbbed his release into her, held suspended in a timeless moment where nothing existed but them.
At last the moment passed, and he would have collapsed onto her if he hadn't caught himself, not wanting to crush her. He shifted, about to roll away, but her arms came up around him, gently urging him down atop her. Exhausted, he allowed her to pull him down and lay against her softness for a long moment, catching his breath and letting his limbs recover from their trembling. She held him tightly, her hands splayed across his back and her cheek pressed to his hair. There was no sound but their breathing.
A few minutes later, Harry lifted his torso, afraid that he was too heavy. Ginny's arms tightened still more around him in protest. "I don't want you to get up yet," she said softly, her voice low.
"I don't want to either, but I think I should." He kissed her tenderly, feeling her arms reluctantly loosen as he carefully disengaged. Sliding his arms beneath her, he rolled them over so their positions were reversed; now she lay stretched out atop him, her head pillowed on his shoulder.
***
Ginny sighed in utter contentment, listening to Harry's heartbeat slow to its normal, steady rhythm and feeling her own doing the same. She smiled suddenly; she'd had more plans for this evening, but apparently Hermione's assessment of boys' reactions to skimpy lingerie, which Ginny had always thought were exaggerated, had been spot-on. At least, as far as Harry was concerned. Ginny was glad now that she'd not chosen some of the other, less modest examples they'd had on display in the Muggle shop she and Hermione had visited.
She felt Harry turn his head and press a kiss to her forehead. "That was some birthday present," he said conversationally.
She laughed, her cheeks heating. "I'm glad you appreciated it," she replied.
"Oh, I think I've demonstrated that most effectively," he said wryly, and she laughed again. His hands slid up from her back to smooth her hair away from her face, urging her to lift her head and look at him. She complied, smiling at her lover. His eyes twinkled at her. "I take it," he said, "that Hermione took you shopping down in the village. That, or Madam Malkin's has started diversifying in a rather shocking manner. Diagon Alley may never recover."
"Maybe it's a ploy by McGonagall to get wizarding families to have more children," Ginny suggested impishly. "Trying to increase the Hogwarts student population."
"Oh, that's an image I never thought of," he said, groaning and reaching up to cover his eyes with one hand. "Minerva McGonagall, designing and marketing naughty lingerie!"
They laughed together, and Ginny bent to brush her lips against his. His hand returned to the small of her back. "To answer your question more seriously, no," she said, "we didn't go into the village. Last week Fred met us at the Leaky Cauldron and went with us into Muggle London."
Harry started, almost knocking her off him. "Fred?" he said in a horrified voice. "Fred knows about-that?" He gestured toward the floor, with its scattered pools of lace and silk.
"Oh, no," Ginny assured him. "We just didn't want to go into Muggle London alone; he didn't see what we went there for. That is, he knows we went into the shop, but he thinks we were just picking up bras and knickers for ourselves. We made him wait outside." Her eyes twinkled at him. "I can still do a mean Bat-Bogey Hex, after all."
Harry relaxed back onto the bed, blowing out a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I had sudden visions of one or both of them sitting outside the door, waiting for us. Or planning something for breakfast tomorrow." He closed his eyes and shuddered. Then they flew back open. "You and-Merlin!" he gasped. "Did Hermione buy something, too?"
Ginny raised herself up and glared at him in mock outrage. "Harry! You're lying naked in bed with me and asking about Hermione's scandalous underthings?" she teased.
Harry grinned and tightened his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him. She wriggled the tiniest bit, teasing him some more. "You're right," he growled playfully. "I'd much rather ask about yours. Like where you bought them and whether you bought any more. And what size you got, since I've not bought your birthday present yet."
God, I love it when he growls like that.
"Oh, don't buy me lingerie for my birthday," Ginny replied, letting her voice settle into a purr of her own and drawing a finger along his jawbone. "I saw some silk boxers there that I practically drooled over. God knows what I'd do if I actually saw them on you." A wicked smile curved her mouth as she touched her finger to Harry's bottom lip.
Harry groaned. "That sounds like a research project I might just have to take on." She chuckled wickedly, and he continued, "The reason I asked about Hermione is so I know whether to expect a knowing look and a smart remark from Ron in the morning."
"I see. Well, between you, me, and the fencepost, yes, she did. But I think she's saving it either for Christmas or his birthday, though I expect it's the former."
"I should hope so! His birthday's not till March." Harry's expression grew sly again, and his hands slid down over her back to cup her bottom once more. "You never answered my other question. Did you buy, er, anything else?" He winked suggestively.
She grinned. His reaction to the lingerie gave her a feeling of power that was more than a bit of a turn-on. It was nice to know she could make him react so strongly. "Well," she said innocently, "there was this little black outfit I saw…."
Apparently the image was enough to make him groan. "Lacy?" he asked.
She tilted her head, pretending to consider. "More silk than lace," she said finally. "And more pieces to the outfit. Though each one had a lot less fabric than this one did…"
He closed his eyes and groaned again. "Did you buy it?"
"No," she said as he opened his eyes again. "And I think that's just as well. Given your earlier reaction, if I had, God knows what you would have done."
"Oh, I know exactly what I'd've done," he whispered, and suddenly she was on her back with him hovering over her, his eyes fairly glowing. She could feel the evidence of his returning arousal. "Shall I show you?"
One of these days, I'm going to drown in those eyes of his.
Reaching up, she removed his glasses, which he'd never taken off earlier, and placed them on the bedside table next to his wand. Then she reached up to twine her fingers in his thick, soft hair and pulled him down for a kiss.
Where before she had been in control, she could tell immediately that this time, Harry was going to run the show. He claimed her mouth, kissing her deeply, one arm sliding beneath her to both hold her close and prop himself up while the other hand closed over her breast, massaging and caressing. His Quidditch-callused palm brushed over her nipple, and she moaned into his mouth.
"Mmm, yes," he murmured as his mouth travelled across her jaw line to tease the shell of her ear. He traced his tongue along the ridges and valleys. "I love the sounds you make when we make love," he whispered. She shivered, as much from the tantalizing sensation of his warm breath on her wet flesh as in reaction to the words themselves. Sometimes she thought she could be brought to completion by that sexy voice alone. "I love it when you moan-" he kissed the hollow behind her ear "-and gasp-" he kissed the column of her throat "-and whimper-" he kissed the pulse between her collarbones "-and say my name…in that breathy voice…that makes me so hard…"
He was dropping a kiss down her breastbone with each pause. Ginny felt as if every nerve were on fire, every inch of her skin tingling with anticipation. His hand on her breast stilled except for his thumb, brushing back and forth just below her areola, and though she knew what would happen next, it still wrenched a half-whimper, half-groan from her when his mouth closed over her nipple. His tongue licked right across the tip of it before swirling all around and finally suckling, drawing shocks of pleasure from her centre clear through her body. Her reaction brought a groan from Harry, too, and he let her nipple slip from his lips to whisper, "God, yes, just like that," before taking her other nipple. He nipped at it, teased it, sucked and swirled and licked and loved until her head lolled back against the pillow and her hips rocked against him in an unconscious rhythm of need. Sparks shimmered just below her skin, each touch of his body making them brighten, strengthen, until the warm ghosting of his breath across her flesh was enough to make her gasp aloud.
Again his mouth left her, but only so he could move back up to claim her lips once more. She arched against him, sliding her hands across his back, his shoulders, up into his hair, desperate to get closer, to feel more. God, she thought, if I make him feel even half what he makes me feel…
She was dimly aware of his hand trailing downwards across her belly and lower. His knee gently parted hers, and then suddenly a blaze of pleasure burst through her as his fingers found her centre. All thought disappeared and she was lost in the sensuality. She felt him shift downward along her body and instinctively separated her legs, pulling her knees up to either side. Some part of her brain knew what to expect, knew what was coming, and even as she writhed beneath his knowing touch, she waited for him to shift even farther down, just so-for his fingers to withdraw, yes, like that-for him to open her wide, and then-
Ginny held her breath, waiting, but Harry didn't move. The haze of pleasure began to clear, replaced with the sharp throbbing of her need. She shifted her hips impatiently, and heard a soft baritone chuckle. "Yes, love?" Harry said, kissing the inside of her left thigh.
"Harry," she groaned. She ached for his touch. "Please."
"Please what, Ginny?" Another kiss, this one on the inside of her right thigh.
"Please." She wasn't thinking very coherently; talking required too much concentration. "I-I need…"
"Yes?" His breath upon her, cool on her wet heat.
She whimpered. "Need you. To-touch me. Please, Harry, touch me …" She shifted restlessly again, rocking her hips toward him. "I need you, Harry, please…"
He growled deep in his throat and suddenly he was there, lips and tongue upon her, kissing, nibbling, caressing her centre as she cried out her pleasure and twined her fingers in his hair. She was only half aware of the half-coherent phrases that tumbled from her lips.
"Yes, oh God, Harry, yes, please, please, oh God, don't stop don't stop Harry oh God please…"
His growls were louder now as he took her toward completion, building her higher and higher as she strained toward him. A finger thrust into her suddenly, hard and fast, and she threw her head back and screamed as her release took her, shuddering and convulsing as Harry continued, drawing sparks of even greater pleasure until at last, spent, she collapsed bonelessly, her breathing harsh, her muscles limp, her mind blank. She couldn't have moved for anything.
She felt Harry drop a kiss on her belly as he crawled back up her body to lie atop her again. She opened her eyes as his weight settled on her, his lips kissing her softly between her breasts. She could feel his arousal between them, but he seemed in no hurry to do anything about it. "You're being awfully noble," she said with amusement.
He looked up, eyes twinkling. "I am?" he said in mock surprise.
"Mm-hm." She reached down to brush his hair away from his face, her fingers lightly touching his lightning scar. His breath caught and his eyes closed involuntarily. She quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? Like that, do you?" She brushed her fingers over it again, and he inhaled sharply. She felt him harden even more, if that were possible.
His eyes opened, full of wonder, and he reached up to take her hand. "That's never happened before," he whispered.
"What?"
"With my scar-having someone touch it-and it felt good." He sounded stunned. "It's hurt before, of course-for years-but never…." He trailed off, as though he wasn't sure how to end the sentence.
She smiled and brought up her other hand, running her thumb over the scar again. His eyes shut tight, and he made a small noise of pleasure. "Well," she said softly, "maybe it's because, as long as you've had that scar, nobody's loved you as much as I do right now." She trailed her fingers down his face, cupped his chin, and brought him up for a kiss as she arched her pelvis against him, suddenly hungry for him to fill her. He slid his hands beneath her hips and held her steady as he slid into her.
They rocked together, melded at hips and lips, flesh against flesh, until the soft spiralling desire began to burn higher, burn hotter. Their movements shifted from languorous, loving, to faster, more intense. Harry broke the kiss to trail his lips over Ginny's neck, his tongue tracing patterns on the sensitive flesh that made her moan and drag her fingernails down his back. He uttered a soft cry and thrust even deeper; she threw her head back and arched into him. They were nearly frantic now; Ginny was mewling, meeting his every stroke, desperate for the release that hovered so close-so close-
And then it was there, and she was falling and shaking with the intensity of it, and only Harry's strong arms about her made her let go and let it carry her. She felt Harry pause, then thrust hard, burying himself deeply in her as his release claimed him as well, and she drew him down against her again as he convulsed in pleasure of her making.
At last he stilled, quieted, then kissed her softly before rolling to the side. He cuddled next to her, one hand caressing her abdomen, softly. Her lips touched his gently and he opened his eyes at last, a small smile on his face.
"You look very self-satisfied," she teased.
He chuckled and pulled her onto her side to face him. "Don't I have reason?"
She chuckled as well, sliding her hand up his side and to his back. "You just like making me beg," she said good-humouredly, poking him in the ribs.
"Every chance I get," Harry murmured. He slid his arms around her and pulled her close, fitting her body against his. She squeezed him tightly, her heart swelling with love and contentment. She could hear his breathing slowing, becoming the steady rhythm of sleep, and felt her own eyelids getting heavy. Wrapped in Harry's warmth, she dropped off.
***
Her dreams were of hands and lips and silky sighs of breath against her heated skin. She shifted as the sensations travelled across her body, Harry's face floating out of the colourful dream-mist in which she was floating. "Give me your mouth," she whispered.
"Give me yours," he answered, smiling, as his hands wandered still farther. She tried to lean up to kiss him, but she couldn't. A whimper escaped her, and a ghost of a chuckle sounded next to her ear. His teeth closed gently on her earlobe, and she realised that she was awake.
Harry released her ear only to claim her mouth, and she kissed him eagerly, revelling in his familiar taste. The kiss was slow, languid, and filled with such love that she felt tears prickling the back of her eyes before he gently pulled back. The soft glow from the charm he'd cast had faded into true darkness, but the moon, low on the horizon, cast enough light through her window to make the charm unnecessary. His eyes glowed with emotion, and before he could say anything, she reached up to frame his face with her hands. "I love you," she whispered, and reclaimed his lips for another kiss.
This kiss was anything but soft. Her dreams, combined with their earlier lovemaking, had roused her to a fever pitch. He moaned as she took his mouth, hard, demanding, needing. She hardly noticed herself pushing upward against him, urging him onto his back. But when her conscious mind finally registered the change in their positions--the fact that she again lay atop him, bare flesh to bare flesh--she immediately growled her approval and sat up, straddling him.
Time for me to get a bit of my own back.
He reached up toward her face as if to bring her down for a kiss. Growling again, this time in protest, she grabbed his hands and forced them down to his sides, pinning them to the bed as she bent to touch her tongue to his throat. She licked and nipped her way across the soft flesh, encouraged by the mostly incoherent sounds he was making. His head tilted back to give her better access, and she took full advantage of it, nibbling and sucking along every centimetre until he was gasping and writhing beneath her. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she made her way down toward his collarbone, flickering her tongue over the pulse in the hollow between his collarbones, just as he had done to her earlier.
His breath was coming in short pants. "Gin...." he moaned, his hands twisting slightly beneath hers as she held them down.
"Mine," she said low in her throat, and leaned up to kiss him again. His erection was pressing against her belly and he moaned, lifting his hips slightly against her. She pulled back from the kiss and looked into his eyes. "Mine," she repeated more softly, but with no less intensity.
"Yours," he agreed, his gaze never leaving hers. His voice was rough, his eyes blazing with love and desire. "Forever."
He leaned up and kissed her again, but she didn't let herself get lost in it this time. Pulling back after only a few moments, she dragged her mouth back down his throat and across his chest, slowly and inexorably heading for his beautiful, sensitive nipples. She could feel him tensing slightly in anticipation as she drew nearer his left nipple, and she felt her mouth curve into a wicked smile. Now I understand Harry's love of teasing me. She kissed all around the small, erect nub, flickering her tongue around the edge of the areola, but not touching his nipple directly. Her breath disturbed the sprinkling of hairs on his chest, and he made a sound in his throat. She kissed his chest again, then let her tongue trace the edges of his burn scar. The flesh here was different--softer, thinner, and, to judge by his reaction, more sensitive. She explored it thoroughly, lingering over the pebbly skin, trying to convince Harry by her actions that it didn't disgust her, had never disgusted her, that he hadn't needed to go through all that agony today just for her because he was perfect just as he was, scarred or not. His hands were still twisting beneath hers, not trying to get away-he could break her hold easily if he really wanted to-but as though he couldn't stay still beneath the torment of her tongue. Smiling, she pressed her lips to the scar, kissing it, before moving inward back to his nipple and suckling strongly.
He arched beneath her with a wild sound, his body making one huge bow from shoulders to feet as she teased his nipple as thoroughly as she had his scar. He was so hard, pressing against her, and she knew continuing to tease him was only making things worse…but how many times had he teased her relentlessly, until she writhed and begged beneath him?
Besides, I don't think he's complaining.
Chuckling, she dragged her tongue across his chest to pay attention to his other nipple. His hips were shifting rhythmically against her. "Gin…" he sighed hoarsely.
"Mmm?" Her tongue stroked languorously across his nipple, and he shivered beneath her. She felt a surge of desire. God, I love it when he reacts like that.
"I… Oh, God… Gin, please!" he groaned, pressing against her again.
She raised her head to look at him. "What do you need, love?" she whispered, grinning. Turnabout was fair play, after all. Let him see how hard it is to talk when your lover is doing everything in her power to disrupt your logical thought processes.
"You," he groaned, managing to twist one hand free and reaching up to twine it in her hair. She managed to catch it before he could, and brought it to her lips to gently suck on his index finger. The sound he made was somewhere between a gasp and a yell.
"You have me," she pointed out playfully, flickering the tip of her tongue across the tip of his finger. "What else do you need?"
"Need to be…in you." He was panting, his whole body flushed with desire. A fine sheen of sweat shone over the flexing muscles of his torso as he moved beneath her. "Gin… please… I can't stand this…"
She sucked his index and middle fingers into her mouth suddenly, pulling them all the way into her moist heat. He gave a strangled cry, then another as she slid her tongue between the two fingers, teasing them both at the same time. He pulled his other hand free, where she'd been holding it down, and reached up to cup her breast, kneading it almost roughly as she licked and teased. He'd opened his eyes and was watching her avidly, as his fingers moved in and out of her mouth. She could see the desire behind those eyes, and knew that if she kept this up for too much longer, it would be taken out of her control. "Gin…" he whispered again.
She gave a last lick to his fingers, pulling them away as she leaned forward. "I know, love," she said, and kissed him. He groaned, and she could feel his strength as he crushed her to him, ravaging her mouth with his as though he were trying to pour all of his love and desire into that kiss. He tensed, as though about to roll them over, but she braced her knee against the bed and pulled up from the kiss. "No," she said softly, stopping him. "This is still mine." She dropped a soft kiss on his chin. "Don't worry," she whispered. "It won't be much longer."
He reached up to smooth her hair from her face. "I love you," he said in a soft, intense, smoky voice.
"I love you, too." Another kiss, then she was sliding down his body, trailing her fingers across the taut, defined muscles, dipping lightly into his belly button, caressing across his flanks, and all the while purposely avoiding his erection. His hands had fisted in the bedclothes again, knuckles white, as she let her fingers explore the soft skin. His eyes had closed again, she noticed, and grinned. All right. Time to end the torment, I think.
Her lips closed over his turgid length and he yelped. "Ginny! What-you're-oh, God!" She heard his head hit the pillow-apparently he'd lifted it in surprise, and another shudder ran through him. One hand gently touched her hair, caressing her as though she were made of spun glass as her tongue and lips explored the silk-and-steel of his most intimate secrets. His breath had grown hoarser, as though he were breathing through clenched teeth; his hand, caressing her hair, was beginning to tremble as well. She swirled her tongue around the satiny head and tasted salt and musk. His hand twined in her hair as though by pure instinct, though he didn't try to move her. She swirled her tongue again, and he whimpered, a sound of pure, animalistic need. His hips jerked upward, barely a twitch before he was able to control himself-but she could tell that his control was slipping.
I wonder…could I make him…in my mouth?
The thought was strangely arousing. Experimentally, she ran her tongue along the vein on the underside of him, and was rewarded by a deep-chested moan. Encouraged, she nibbled her way up his length with lips and tongue until she reached the head again, then, without warning, without even considering what she was doing, she took as much of him into her mouth as she could.
He arched sharply upward and shouted, both of his hands in her hair. She could feel him fighting for control, even as she tasted the musky saltiness again. Prepared to repeat what was obviously a very successful technique, she was surprised to feel him tugging upward, pulling her away from him. "I-Gin, I-can't take-much more," he gasped as he gently pulled her back up across his body for another passionate kiss.
"You didn't have to stop me," Ginny said when the kiss ended a long moment later, looking into his eyes. "I don't mind."
His eyes flashed desire, and he said, "I know. But I don't want that. I want you, to be inside you. Now."
He kissed her again, but before he could roll them over, she reached down between them to take his length into her hand and guide him toward her waiting heat as she straddled him. She was already wet and ready for him; he slid easily into her, wrenching moans from both of them as he filled her. She broke the kiss and sat up, looking down at him as he stared up at her with need and desire and love and longing, and her own shiver of desire took her. She raised herself up and then rocked back down, taking him wholly and gasping as she felt him press against an unbelievably sensitive spot deep inside her. She moved again, and again that spot sent shocks of pleasure through her. Harry's hands settled on her hips, guiding her, and she fell into a rhythm, her hands resting on his chest, their eyes locked together, as she moved atop him-sometimes slow, sometimes faster, sometimes in tiny circles, sometimes in long, quick thrusts. She knew he was holding back, waiting to bring her with him, and somehow that knowledge was at least as arousing as the image of him beneath her, panting, thrusting, groaning with desire.
One of his hands moved from her hip to the place of their joining, a finger sliding into her warmth to touch and caress her centre. She threw her head back as pleasure jolted through her. He pressed against her small, taut nub as she moved over him, and the world shattered, convulsing her with the waves of ecstasy as she cried out-and suddenly Harry was there too, shouting with release as he throbbed and burst within her, one hand holding her hips down as far as they could, his own hips arched upward against her to get as deep as he could. The sensations seemed to go on and on, dragging her with them, until finally, without warning, they were over-and they took all her strength with them.
She collapsed bonelessly onto Harry's chest, gasping for breath. Trembling arms wrapped around her as he, too, tried to catch his breath. She realised that he wasn't the only one who was shaking; her orgasm had been the most intense she'd ever experienced. She couldn't have moved if she'd had to, and was dimly surprised that Harry was able to move enough to caress her back the way he was doing. Not that I want him to stop…
Her breath was nearly back to normal. She shifted as if to move off him, but Harry's arms tightened around her. "No," he whispered. "Don't go yet." He cupped her face with his hands and kissed her gently, gently.
She sighed her agreement and kissed him back, his lips soft and warm against hers. They stayed that way, gentle kisses and warm caresses, until Ginny felt a twinge in her hip. She pulled away. "I have to," she whispered in response to Harry's soft protest, as she lifted away from him, then lay down at his side, curled against his solid warmth.
"Mmm, all right." He turned to face her and drew her closer to him. "Now I've got to think up something really spectacular for your birthday," he breathed into her ear.
She laughed softly. "Just so long as you can still get up to go running with Ron and Hermione at oh-dark-thirty."
"Oh, hell. I'd forgotten." He turned to look at her clock. "Damn, damn, damn. It's half-three."
"Then you'd better get some sleep." She poked him in the chest playfully. "Can you recover from all this in three hours?"
"Probably not." He turned back to face her, and cuddled her close again. "But I doubt Ron or Hermione can, either."
She chuckled. With a last kiss, she felt Harry slowly relax into sleep. Smiling her contentment, she followed him.
Rating: Mature
Words: 7,524
Summary: Chapter 5 outtake from Heal the Pain.
Following the best birthday he's ever had, Harry's got another surprise in store from his Ginny.
"That wasn't fair, either," Harry growled playfully, looking up at her.
Ginny grinned and bent down in a lightning change of mood, lacing her fingers with Harry's as she lowered herself to lie down atop him. "Neither is this," she whispered, and fastened her mouth on his for a soul-searing kiss.
Rational thought disappeared, and he raised his arms above his head, pulling her closer before tugging his hands free and sliding them along her back, one toward her hips, the other upward to tangle into her hair. Her legs separated, sliding along the outside of Harry's thighs, and he moaned as he felt her hips shifting against his. She pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. "I think," she purred in a throaty voice very like the one she'd used when she'd seen him in the dragonhide earlier, "that it's time for your other present."
"'Tis better to give than to receive," he agreed, and kissed her again.
"Oh, you'll be doing both tonight," she murmured silkily against his lips. "I guarantee it." She sat up, sliding off Harry and rising to her feet, holding her hand out to him. He took it and stood as well, bringing his discarded t-shirt. Her eyes glowed with promise, and he felt an answering glow in his groin. She kissed him, then, still holding him by the hand, led him into the house.
They walked swiftly through the darkened living room, dousing the kitchen light as they went. At the foot of the stairs, Ginny stopped and turned to him. He felt, rather than saw, her smile as her small hands reached up to frame his face and pull him down for a soft, gentle kiss. He let her take the lead as her mouth moved softly over his. Her tongue flickered at the seam of his lips and he opened his mouth obligingly. She kept it slow, exploring languorously. He rested his hands on her waist and let her, trying to ignore the increasingly insistent throbbing below his belt.
At last she pulled away, caressing his cheekbones with her thumb before taking his hand again and starting up the stairs. To his surprise, he discovered that his knees were a bit weak as they started climbing. When was the last time that happened? he thought.
She opened the door to her bedroom, then turned and kissed him again. She smelled of strawberries and summer. "I have to go…prepare," she whispered. A stripe of moonlight from her window fell across her face, illuminating the glint of-mischief? Anticipation?-in her eyes. "Why don't you go inside and make yourself…comfortable?" She tugged lightly at the belt loops of his jeans to emphasise her point, then dropped a soft kiss on his bare chest before letting go and heading up the stairs toward the bathroom.
Bemused, aroused, and more than a little curious, he watched her go, then went into her room and shut the door. Toeing off his shoes, he unfastened his jeans and stepped out of them, folding them neatly and laying them across the back of her desk chair, then folding his shirt and draping it over the jeans. His socks followed. He considered whether to take his boxers off too, then decided against it. He propped himself up on her bed, her pillows at his back, and disposed himself to wait.
What could she be doing? he wondered, watching the shadows from the tree outside dancing across the wall. Dean and Seamus used to complain about their girlfriends saying that, too. What do women do when they leave to ‘prepare'?
Trying to settle his hormones a bit, he amused himself for a few moments, picturing Ginny sitting at a Muggle vanity table, spraying herself with expensive perfume á la some movie star. The whole image was so foreign to Ginny's personality that he almost chuckled. But that vision was pushed from his mind by the sound of the door opening.
What women did became suddenly very clear.
Ginny slipped inside, shutting the door quietly behind her, and Harry sat up abruptly, eyes wide. Instead of her usual dressing gown, she was wearing something silky, shimmery, and short-it only came to mid-thigh. The tie holding it closed was only loosely secured, and the lapels gaped tantalisingly above her breasts. He swallowed convulsively. The arousal that had begun to settle down returned with force, and it was all he could do not to push himself off the bed, stalk over to her, and pull that dressing gown right off.
She smiled seductively. In the moonlight, the fabric looked nearly black against the fine ivory of her skin. "Since you're of age," she said, hands toying with the ends of the tie of her dressing gown, "why don't you make this a little more… private?"
Oh, God, she's purring.
Hands shaking just a bit, he fumbled for his wand, and then set the Silencing and Locking charms. He started to put his wand back, then paused and murmured another spell under his breath. The room was suddenly illuminated by a soft, diffuse light that was just enough to let them see each other. Now he could see that the dressing gown was a soft, iridescent, forest-green silk, and his hands itched to touch it. Controlling himself firmly, he sat on the edge of the bed, put his wand back on the bedside table, and waited for her to make the next move.
A smile curled one corner of her mouth and she took two swaying steps closer, until she was just within reach. She held out her hands and he placed his in hers, squeezing gently. The quirked corner became a real smile, and she stepped forward again, so she was standing just in front of his knees. Slowly, she brought his hands to the tie of her dressing gown. He tugged it loose, and then gasped as the material fell open.
Beneath the silk, Ginny wore a baby doll of loose-knit forest-green lace. It stretched over her breasts like a second skin, clearly showing her dusky areolas and nipples, then draped in rippling folds downward, ending just at the crease of hip and thigh.
Harry's mouth went dry.
He reached up to push the dressing gown off her shoulders. It fell to the floor in a puddle, but he hardly noticed; his eyes were focused on Ginny. His hands trailed down over the spaghetti straps, across her breasts, and down her abdomen, feeling her lithe, smooth body beneath the fabric. "Oh, God," he breathed, taking her in, unable to form any more coherent sound than that. His erection strained at his shorts. He couldn't remember ever having been so aroused just by the sight of her, not even their first time.
He let his hands continue down to the hem, then slide underneath, where he felt yet another scrap of the same lacy cloth running down between her thighs. It was attached to a narrow strip of elastic that ran over her hipbone. He followed the line of the elastic all the way around her until it joined another; his fingers traced it down to where it disappeared into the cleft of her buttocks.
He groaned deep in his chest and pulled her to him, his hands on her thighs, separating them and drawing her down to straddle his lap. He wrapped one arm about her waist to press her to him, and tangled the other hand in her hair, pulling her down for a scalding kiss. She responded, pressing her hips and breasts against him. His hand at her waist caressed her velvety back underneath the baby doll, sliding down over her bare bottom. He released her hair to bring his other hand down as well, kneading her soft flesh and groaning yet again as her hips shifted, rubbing against his hardness.
Her hands came between them and she broke the kiss, pulling away to look into his eyes. Hers were so dark with desire that they were almost black, her pupils dilated wide, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen. Gently she pushed against his chest, urging him wordlessly to lie back. He obeyed, never breaking eye contact.
I'm in love with the sexiest woman on the planet.
When he lay all the way back, she leaned forward on her hands, gently brushing her lips against his before trailing them across his jaw to his ear. He shut his eyes as her teeth closed gently on his earlobe, her tongue teasing it before she sucked his whole lobe into her warm mouth. A jolt shocked through him, centred in his groin, and a moan was dragged from him as his brain flashed a sudden image of that mouth elsewhere on his body. He felt her smile as she suckled gently, then she released his ear and continued her exploration downwards. He clutched at her bottom and bit his lip, fighting to hold still and let her go.
She kissed a trail of fire down the line of his throat, sucking gently at his pulse point, dipping her tongue into the hollow at the base of his throat, sliding soft lips and warm breath across his chest. Her fingers brushed across his taut muscles as she reached his breastbone, then he felt her lift her head. He kept his eyes closed, trying to catch his breath as his pulse pounded in his ears and fighting to stay in control of himself. He'd never seen this side of Ginny before, and it was almost more than he could comprehend.
He couldn't restrain a cry when he felt her mouth fasten on his left nipple, her tongue swirling round the outside before licking and teasing at the small, erect nub. He arched into her, his hands sliding up to her shoulders, hanging on as she drove him higher. Her fingers found his other nipple and began a similar torment as he gritted his teeth, willing himself not to roll them both over and exact sweet revenge. When her velvety tongue teased the edges of his burn scar, its sensitivity made the sensation almost more than he could bear.
God, whatever I did to deserve her, tell me what it was so I can do it again.
His hips were rocking slightly against hers, the cotton of his boxers and the lace of her lingerie a frustrating barrier. He didn't know how long he could stand this, and yet he didn't ever want it to end. When she turned her attentions to his other nipple, his brain presented him with an image in his mind's eye of the two of them: Ginny lying atop him, wearing nothing but a scrap of lace, her beautiful, talented mouth toying with him, her hair gently brushing his skin, her breasts swaying gently as she moved over him... He had to fight not to come from the image alone.
Ginny released his nipple at last. He felt her sit up, felt her hands tracing abstract patterns on his belly, and opened desire-drugged eyes to look at her.
She still straddled him, hovering over him looking like a very self-satisfied angel. He reached a hand up from her shoulders to take hold of a lock of her hair that had slipped forward to hang next to her face. It was silky and fine, and slipped through his fingers like water. "You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen," he whispered huskily.
She smiled, a brilliant, dazzling Ginny-smile, and leaned forward to kiss him again. Both of his hands twined into her hair this time, and he kissed her hard, feasting on her mouth. She moaned and shifted her hips against his. He ground his desire against her, revelling in the tiny whimper of need he wrenched from her. He pulled her away a couple of inches, his vision filled with her flushed, aroused expression. "I want you, Gin," he whispered, thrusting his hips upward against her again in illustration. "I want to be inside you."
He saw the shiver pass through her, and she closed her eyes for a moment. Pressing his advantage, he released her hair and took her breasts in his hands, rubbing his thumbs lightly over the hard, pebbled nipples. She inhaled sharply, then gave a throaty cry when he lifted his head to take one of them into his mouth, caressing and suckling it through the lace. He felt a sudden surge of dampness where she was pressed intimately against him, spreading through the fabric that separated them, and he had to stop and grit his teeth again to keep himself from exploding. His hands gently kneaded her, thumbs still fanning her nipples. "Gin, please," he said raggedly, the strain of holding himself back making his voice rough.
She looked at him, and he saw her eyes darken. She crossed her arms to grasp the baby doll by the hem, and pulled it up and over her head in one fluid movement, leaving her in nothing but the scrap of lace that served her as panties.
All attempt at reason fled. Harry growled and flipped the two of them over, then knelt up to put his arms beneath her and lift her into the middle of the bed. He quickly stripped her of the lace as she pushed at the waistband of his boxers, shoving them down over his hips. He got them the rest of the way off, and then he was lowering himself into the cradle of her thighs and she was wrapping her legs around his waist, drawing him into her tight, wet warmth. He sank into her with one smooth thrust, drawing a cry of pleasure and need from both of them. He pulled out and pushed back in, trembling with the unbelievable sensations her velvety heat was causing in him. He wanted to hear her cry out again, to hear her whimper, moan, scream his name...
He shifted, angling upward and driving hard into her. She arched against him, throwing her head back and clutching his shoulders with her fingers as he felt a ripple shudder through her. "Harry-!" she whimpered. "God, Harry…please!"
His vision narrowed as another surge passed through him, and he lost all semblance of control. He drove into her with abandon and she bucked against him, their rhythm quickly becoming frantic. He lowered himself to his elbows, sliding his hands beneath her to grip her shoulders as he pulled her closer. "Gin," he gasped into her ear as he thrust, "come for me love, please come for me, want to hear you, want to feel you, please…"
Her legs slipped from around him to brace her feet against the bed, and she thrust upward against him, hard, taking him deeper than she ever had and drawing an involuntary cry from him. "Harry!" she screamed, and he felt the pulsing of her orgasm begin within her as she tumbled over the precipice, drawing him with her. His whole body began to quake with hers as he throbbed his release into her, held suspended in a timeless moment where nothing existed but them.
At last the moment passed, and he would have collapsed onto her if he hadn't caught himself, not wanting to crush her. He shifted, about to roll away, but her arms came up around him, gently urging him down atop her. Exhausted, he allowed her to pull him down and lay against her softness for a long moment, catching his breath and letting his limbs recover from their trembling. She held him tightly, her hands splayed across his back and her cheek pressed to his hair. There was no sound but their breathing.
A few minutes later, Harry lifted his torso, afraid that he was too heavy. Ginny's arms tightened still more around him in protest. "I don't want you to get up yet," she said softly, her voice low.
"I don't want to either, but I think I should." He kissed her tenderly, feeling her arms reluctantly loosen as he carefully disengaged. Sliding his arms beneath her, he rolled them over so their positions were reversed; now she lay stretched out atop him, her head pillowed on his shoulder.
***
Ginny sighed in utter contentment, listening to Harry's heartbeat slow to its normal, steady rhythm and feeling her own doing the same. She smiled suddenly; she'd had more plans for this evening, but apparently Hermione's assessment of boys' reactions to skimpy lingerie, which Ginny had always thought were exaggerated, had been spot-on. At least, as far as Harry was concerned. Ginny was glad now that she'd not chosen some of the other, less modest examples they'd had on display in the Muggle shop she and Hermione had visited.
She felt Harry turn his head and press a kiss to her forehead. "That was some birthday present," he said conversationally.
She laughed, her cheeks heating. "I'm glad you appreciated it," she replied.
"Oh, I think I've demonstrated that most effectively," he said wryly, and she laughed again. His hands slid up from her back to smooth her hair away from her face, urging her to lift her head and look at him. She complied, smiling at her lover. His eyes twinkled at her. "I take it," he said, "that Hermione took you shopping down in the village. That, or Madam Malkin's has started diversifying in a rather shocking manner. Diagon Alley may never recover."
"Maybe it's a ploy by McGonagall to get wizarding families to have more children," Ginny suggested impishly. "Trying to increase the Hogwarts student population."
"Oh, that's an image I never thought of," he said, groaning and reaching up to cover his eyes with one hand. "Minerva McGonagall, designing and marketing naughty lingerie!"
They laughed together, and Ginny bent to brush her lips against his. His hand returned to the small of her back. "To answer your question more seriously, no," she said, "we didn't go into the village. Last week Fred met us at the Leaky Cauldron and went with us into Muggle London."
Harry started, almost knocking her off him. "Fred?" he said in a horrified voice. "Fred knows about-that?" He gestured toward the floor, with its scattered pools of lace and silk.
"Oh, no," Ginny assured him. "We just didn't want to go into Muggle London alone; he didn't see what we went there for. That is, he knows we went into the shop, but he thinks we were just picking up bras and knickers for ourselves. We made him wait outside." Her eyes twinkled at him. "I can still do a mean Bat-Bogey Hex, after all."
Harry relaxed back onto the bed, blowing out a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I had sudden visions of one or both of them sitting outside the door, waiting for us. Or planning something for breakfast tomorrow." He closed his eyes and shuddered. Then they flew back open. "You and-Merlin!" he gasped. "Did Hermione buy something, too?"
Ginny raised herself up and glared at him in mock outrage. "Harry! You're lying naked in bed with me and asking about Hermione's scandalous underthings?" she teased.
Harry grinned and tightened his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him. She wriggled the tiniest bit, teasing him some more. "You're right," he growled playfully. "I'd much rather ask about yours. Like where you bought them and whether you bought any more. And what size you got, since I've not bought your birthday present yet."
God, I love it when he growls like that.
"Oh, don't buy me lingerie for my birthday," Ginny replied, letting her voice settle into a purr of her own and drawing a finger along his jawbone. "I saw some silk boxers there that I practically drooled over. God knows what I'd do if I actually saw them on you." A wicked smile curved her mouth as she touched her finger to Harry's bottom lip.
Harry groaned. "That sounds like a research project I might just have to take on." She chuckled wickedly, and he continued, "The reason I asked about Hermione is so I know whether to expect a knowing look and a smart remark from Ron in the morning."
"I see. Well, between you, me, and the fencepost, yes, she did. But I think she's saving it either for Christmas or his birthday, though I expect it's the former."
"I should hope so! His birthday's not till March." Harry's expression grew sly again, and his hands slid down over her back to cup her bottom once more. "You never answered my other question. Did you buy, er, anything else?" He winked suggestively.
She grinned. His reaction to the lingerie gave her a feeling of power that was more than a bit of a turn-on. It was nice to know she could make him react so strongly. "Well," she said innocently, "there was this little black outfit I saw…."
Apparently the image was enough to make him groan. "Lacy?" he asked.
She tilted her head, pretending to consider. "More silk than lace," she said finally. "And more pieces to the outfit. Though each one had a lot less fabric than this one did…"
He closed his eyes and groaned again. "Did you buy it?"
"No," she said as he opened his eyes again. "And I think that's just as well. Given your earlier reaction, if I had, God knows what you would have done."
"Oh, I know exactly what I'd've done," he whispered, and suddenly she was on her back with him hovering over her, his eyes fairly glowing. She could feel the evidence of his returning arousal. "Shall I show you?"
One of these days, I'm going to drown in those eyes of his.
Reaching up, she removed his glasses, which he'd never taken off earlier, and placed them on the bedside table next to his wand. Then she reached up to twine her fingers in his thick, soft hair and pulled him down for a kiss.
Where before she had been in control, she could tell immediately that this time, Harry was going to run the show. He claimed her mouth, kissing her deeply, one arm sliding beneath her to both hold her close and prop himself up while the other hand closed over her breast, massaging and caressing. His Quidditch-callused palm brushed over her nipple, and she moaned into his mouth.
"Mmm, yes," he murmured as his mouth travelled across her jaw line to tease the shell of her ear. He traced his tongue along the ridges and valleys. "I love the sounds you make when we make love," he whispered. She shivered, as much from the tantalizing sensation of his warm breath on her wet flesh as in reaction to the words themselves. Sometimes she thought she could be brought to completion by that sexy voice alone. "I love it when you moan-" he kissed the hollow behind her ear "-and gasp-" he kissed the column of her throat "-and whimper-" he kissed the pulse between her collarbones "-and say my name…in that breathy voice…that makes me so hard…"
He was dropping a kiss down her breastbone with each pause. Ginny felt as if every nerve were on fire, every inch of her skin tingling with anticipation. His hand on her breast stilled except for his thumb, brushing back and forth just below her areola, and though she knew what would happen next, it still wrenched a half-whimper, half-groan from her when his mouth closed over her nipple. His tongue licked right across the tip of it before swirling all around and finally suckling, drawing shocks of pleasure from her centre clear through her body. Her reaction brought a groan from Harry, too, and he let her nipple slip from his lips to whisper, "God, yes, just like that," before taking her other nipple. He nipped at it, teased it, sucked and swirled and licked and loved until her head lolled back against the pillow and her hips rocked against him in an unconscious rhythm of need. Sparks shimmered just below her skin, each touch of his body making them brighten, strengthen, until the warm ghosting of his breath across her flesh was enough to make her gasp aloud.
Again his mouth left her, but only so he could move back up to claim her lips once more. She arched against him, sliding her hands across his back, his shoulders, up into his hair, desperate to get closer, to feel more. God, she thought, if I make him feel even half what he makes me feel…
She was dimly aware of his hand trailing downwards across her belly and lower. His knee gently parted hers, and then suddenly a blaze of pleasure burst through her as his fingers found her centre. All thought disappeared and she was lost in the sensuality. She felt him shift downward along her body and instinctively separated her legs, pulling her knees up to either side. Some part of her brain knew what to expect, knew what was coming, and even as she writhed beneath his knowing touch, she waited for him to shift even farther down, just so-for his fingers to withdraw, yes, like that-for him to open her wide, and then-
Ginny held her breath, waiting, but Harry didn't move. The haze of pleasure began to clear, replaced with the sharp throbbing of her need. She shifted her hips impatiently, and heard a soft baritone chuckle. "Yes, love?" Harry said, kissing the inside of her left thigh.
"Harry," she groaned. She ached for his touch. "Please."
"Please what, Ginny?" Another kiss, this one on the inside of her right thigh.
"Please." She wasn't thinking very coherently; talking required too much concentration. "I-I need…"
"Yes?" His breath upon her, cool on her wet heat.
She whimpered. "Need you. To-touch me. Please, Harry, touch me …" She shifted restlessly again, rocking her hips toward him. "I need you, Harry, please…"
He growled deep in his throat and suddenly he was there, lips and tongue upon her, kissing, nibbling, caressing her centre as she cried out her pleasure and twined her fingers in his hair. She was only half aware of the half-coherent phrases that tumbled from her lips.
"Yes, oh God, Harry, yes, please, please, oh God, don't stop don't stop Harry oh God please…"
His growls were louder now as he took her toward completion, building her higher and higher as she strained toward him. A finger thrust into her suddenly, hard and fast, and she threw her head back and screamed as her release took her, shuddering and convulsing as Harry continued, drawing sparks of even greater pleasure until at last, spent, she collapsed bonelessly, her breathing harsh, her muscles limp, her mind blank. She couldn't have moved for anything.
She felt Harry drop a kiss on her belly as he crawled back up her body to lie atop her again. She opened her eyes as his weight settled on her, his lips kissing her softly between her breasts. She could feel his arousal between them, but he seemed in no hurry to do anything about it. "You're being awfully noble," she said with amusement.
He looked up, eyes twinkling. "I am?" he said in mock surprise.
"Mm-hm." She reached down to brush his hair away from his face, her fingers lightly touching his lightning scar. His breath caught and his eyes closed involuntarily. She quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? Like that, do you?" She brushed her fingers over it again, and he inhaled sharply. She felt him harden even more, if that were possible.
His eyes opened, full of wonder, and he reached up to take her hand. "That's never happened before," he whispered.
"What?"
"With my scar-having someone touch it-and it felt good." He sounded stunned. "It's hurt before, of course-for years-but never…." He trailed off, as though he wasn't sure how to end the sentence.
She smiled and brought up her other hand, running her thumb over the scar again. His eyes shut tight, and he made a small noise of pleasure. "Well," she said softly, "maybe it's because, as long as you've had that scar, nobody's loved you as much as I do right now." She trailed her fingers down his face, cupped his chin, and brought him up for a kiss as she arched her pelvis against him, suddenly hungry for him to fill her. He slid his hands beneath her hips and held her steady as he slid into her.
They rocked together, melded at hips and lips, flesh against flesh, until the soft spiralling desire began to burn higher, burn hotter. Their movements shifted from languorous, loving, to faster, more intense. Harry broke the kiss to trail his lips over Ginny's neck, his tongue tracing patterns on the sensitive flesh that made her moan and drag her fingernails down his back. He uttered a soft cry and thrust even deeper; she threw her head back and arched into him. They were nearly frantic now; Ginny was mewling, meeting his every stroke, desperate for the release that hovered so close-so close-
And then it was there, and she was falling and shaking with the intensity of it, and only Harry's strong arms about her made her let go and let it carry her. She felt Harry pause, then thrust hard, burying himself deeply in her as his release claimed him as well, and she drew him down against her again as he convulsed in pleasure of her making.
At last he stilled, quieted, then kissed her softly before rolling to the side. He cuddled next to her, one hand caressing her abdomen, softly. Her lips touched his gently and he opened his eyes at last, a small smile on his face.
"You look very self-satisfied," she teased.
He chuckled and pulled her onto her side to face him. "Don't I have reason?"
She chuckled as well, sliding her hand up his side and to his back. "You just like making me beg," she said good-humouredly, poking him in the ribs.
"Every chance I get," Harry murmured. He slid his arms around her and pulled her close, fitting her body against his. She squeezed him tightly, her heart swelling with love and contentment. She could hear his breathing slowing, becoming the steady rhythm of sleep, and felt her own eyelids getting heavy. Wrapped in Harry's warmth, she dropped off.
***
Her dreams were of hands and lips and silky sighs of breath against her heated skin. She shifted as the sensations travelled across her body, Harry's face floating out of the colourful dream-mist in which she was floating. "Give me your mouth," she whispered.
"Give me yours," he answered, smiling, as his hands wandered still farther. She tried to lean up to kiss him, but she couldn't. A whimper escaped her, and a ghost of a chuckle sounded next to her ear. His teeth closed gently on her earlobe, and she realised that she was awake.
Harry released her ear only to claim her mouth, and she kissed him eagerly, revelling in his familiar taste. The kiss was slow, languid, and filled with such love that she felt tears prickling the back of her eyes before he gently pulled back. The soft glow from the charm he'd cast had faded into true darkness, but the moon, low on the horizon, cast enough light through her window to make the charm unnecessary. His eyes glowed with emotion, and before he could say anything, she reached up to frame his face with her hands. "I love you," she whispered, and reclaimed his lips for another kiss.
This kiss was anything but soft. Her dreams, combined with their earlier lovemaking, had roused her to a fever pitch. He moaned as she took his mouth, hard, demanding, needing. She hardly noticed herself pushing upward against him, urging him onto his back. But when her conscious mind finally registered the change in their positions--the fact that she again lay atop him, bare flesh to bare flesh--she immediately growled her approval and sat up, straddling him.
Time for me to get a bit of my own back.
He reached up toward her face as if to bring her down for a kiss. Growling again, this time in protest, she grabbed his hands and forced them down to his sides, pinning them to the bed as she bent to touch her tongue to his throat. She licked and nipped her way across the soft flesh, encouraged by the mostly incoherent sounds he was making. His head tilted back to give her better access, and she took full advantage of it, nibbling and sucking along every centimetre until he was gasping and writhing beneath her. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she made her way down toward his collarbone, flickering her tongue over the pulse in the hollow between his collarbones, just as he had done to her earlier.
His breath was coming in short pants. "Gin...." he moaned, his hands twisting slightly beneath hers as she held them down.
"Mine," she said low in her throat, and leaned up to kiss him again. His erection was pressing against her belly and he moaned, lifting his hips slightly against her. She pulled back from the kiss and looked into his eyes. "Mine," she repeated more softly, but with no less intensity.
"Yours," he agreed, his gaze never leaving hers. His voice was rough, his eyes blazing with love and desire. "Forever."
He leaned up and kissed her again, but she didn't let herself get lost in it this time. Pulling back after only a few moments, she dragged her mouth back down his throat and across his chest, slowly and inexorably heading for his beautiful, sensitive nipples. She could feel him tensing slightly in anticipation as she drew nearer his left nipple, and she felt her mouth curve into a wicked smile. Now I understand Harry's love of teasing me. She kissed all around the small, erect nub, flickering her tongue around the edge of the areola, but not touching his nipple directly. Her breath disturbed the sprinkling of hairs on his chest, and he made a sound in his throat. She kissed his chest again, then let her tongue trace the edges of his burn scar. The flesh here was different--softer, thinner, and, to judge by his reaction, more sensitive. She explored it thoroughly, lingering over the pebbly skin, trying to convince Harry by her actions that it didn't disgust her, had never disgusted her, that he hadn't needed to go through all that agony today just for her because he was perfect just as he was, scarred or not. His hands were still twisting beneath hers, not trying to get away-he could break her hold easily if he really wanted to-but as though he couldn't stay still beneath the torment of her tongue. Smiling, she pressed her lips to the scar, kissing it, before moving inward back to his nipple and suckling strongly.
He arched beneath her with a wild sound, his body making one huge bow from shoulders to feet as she teased his nipple as thoroughly as she had his scar. He was so hard, pressing against her, and she knew continuing to tease him was only making things worse…but how many times had he teased her relentlessly, until she writhed and begged beneath him?
Besides, I don't think he's complaining.
Chuckling, she dragged her tongue across his chest to pay attention to his other nipple. His hips were shifting rhythmically against her. "Gin…" he sighed hoarsely.
"Mmm?" Her tongue stroked languorously across his nipple, and he shivered beneath her. She felt a surge of desire. God, I love it when he reacts like that.
"I… Oh, God… Gin, please!" he groaned, pressing against her again.
She raised her head to look at him. "What do you need, love?" she whispered, grinning. Turnabout was fair play, after all. Let him see how hard it is to talk when your lover is doing everything in her power to disrupt your logical thought processes.
"You," he groaned, managing to twist one hand free and reaching up to twine it in her hair. She managed to catch it before he could, and brought it to her lips to gently suck on his index finger. The sound he made was somewhere between a gasp and a yell.
"You have me," she pointed out playfully, flickering the tip of her tongue across the tip of his finger. "What else do you need?"
"Need to be…in you." He was panting, his whole body flushed with desire. A fine sheen of sweat shone over the flexing muscles of his torso as he moved beneath her. "Gin… please… I can't stand this…"
She sucked his index and middle fingers into her mouth suddenly, pulling them all the way into her moist heat. He gave a strangled cry, then another as she slid her tongue between the two fingers, teasing them both at the same time. He pulled his other hand free, where she'd been holding it down, and reached up to cup her breast, kneading it almost roughly as she licked and teased. He'd opened his eyes and was watching her avidly, as his fingers moved in and out of her mouth. She could see the desire behind those eyes, and knew that if she kept this up for too much longer, it would be taken out of her control. "Gin…" he whispered again.
She gave a last lick to his fingers, pulling them away as she leaned forward. "I know, love," she said, and kissed him. He groaned, and she could feel his strength as he crushed her to him, ravaging her mouth with his as though he were trying to pour all of his love and desire into that kiss. He tensed, as though about to roll them over, but she braced her knee against the bed and pulled up from the kiss. "No," she said softly, stopping him. "This is still mine." She dropped a soft kiss on his chin. "Don't worry," she whispered. "It won't be much longer."
He reached up to smooth her hair from her face. "I love you," he said in a soft, intense, smoky voice.
"I love you, too." Another kiss, then she was sliding down his body, trailing her fingers across the taut, defined muscles, dipping lightly into his belly button, caressing across his flanks, and all the while purposely avoiding his erection. His hands had fisted in the bedclothes again, knuckles white, as she let her fingers explore the soft skin. His eyes had closed again, she noticed, and grinned. All right. Time to end the torment, I think.
Her lips closed over his turgid length and he yelped. "Ginny! What-you're-oh, God!" She heard his head hit the pillow-apparently he'd lifted it in surprise, and another shudder ran through him. One hand gently touched her hair, caressing her as though she were made of spun glass as her tongue and lips explored the silk-and-steel of his most intimate secrets. His breath had grown hoarser, as though he were breathing through clenched teeth; his hand, caressing her hair, was beginning to tremble as well. She swirled her tongue around the satiny head and tasted salt and musk. His hand twined in her hair as though by pure instinct, though he didn't try to move her. She swirled her tongue again, and he whimpered, a sound of pure, animalistic need. His hips jerked upward, barely a twitch before he was able to control himself-but she could tell that his control was slipping.
I wonder…could I make him…in my mouth?
The thought was strangely arousing. Experimentally, she ran her tongue along the vein on the underside of him, and was rewarded by a deep-chested moan. Encouraged, she nibbled her way up his length with lips and tongue until she reached the head again, then, without warning, without even considering what she was doing, she took as much of him into her mouth as she could.
He arched sharply upward and shouted, both of his hands in her hair. She could feel him fighting for control, even as she tasted the musky saltiness again. Prepared to repeat what was obviously a very successful technique, she was surprised to feel him tugging upward, pulling her away from him. "I-Gin, I-can't take-much more," he gasped as he gently pulled her back up across his body for another passionate kiss.
"You didn't have to stop me," Ginny said when the kiss ended a long moment later, looking into his eyes. "I don't mind."
His eyes flashed desire, and he said, "I know. But I don't want that. I want you, to be inside you. Now."
He kissed her again, but before he could roll them over, she reached down between them to take his length into her hand and guide him toward her waiting heat as she straddled him. She was already wet and ready for him; he slid easily into her, wrenching moans from both of them as he filled her. She broke the kiss and sat up, looking down at him as he stared up at her with need and desire and love and longing, and her own shiver of desire took her. She raised herself up and then rocked back down, taking him wholly and gasping as she felt him press against an unbelievably sensitive spot deep inside her. She moved again, and again that spot sent shocks of pleasure through her. Harry's hands settled on her hips, guiding her, and she fell into a rhythm, her hands resting on his chest, their eyes locked together, as she moved atop him-sometimes slow, sometimes faster, sometimes in tiny circles, sometimes in long, quick thrusts. She knew he was holding back, waiting to bring her with him, and somehow that knowledge was at least as arousing as the image of him beneath her, panting, thrusting, groaning with desire.
One of his hands moved from her hip to the place of their joining, a finger sliding into her warmth to touch and caress her centre. She threw her head back as pleasure jolted through her. He pressed against her small, taut nub as she moved over him, and the world shattered, convulsing her with the waves of ecstasy as she cried out-and suddenly Harry was there too, shouting with release as he throbbed and burst within her, one hand holding her hips down as far as they could, his own hips arched upward against her to get as deep as he could. The sensations seemed to go on and on, dragging her with them, until finally, without warning, they were over-and they took all her strength with them.
She collapsed bonelessly onto Harry's chest, gasping for breath. Trembling arms wrapped around her as he, too, tried to catch his breath. She realised that he wasn't the only one who was shaking; her orgasm had been the most intense she'd ever experienced. She couldn't have moved if she'd had to, and was dimly surprised that Harry was able to move enough to caress her back the way he was doing. Not that I want him to stop…
Her breath was nearly back to normal. She shifted as if to move off him, but Harry's arms tightened around her. "No," he whispered. "Don't go yet." He cupped her face with his hands and kissed her gently, gently.
She sighed her agreement and kissed him back, his lips soft and warm against hers. They stayed that way, gentle kisses and warm caresses, until Ginny felt a twinge in her hip. She pulled away. "I have to," she whispered in response to Harry's soft protest, as she lifted away from him, then lay down at his side, curled against his solid warmth.
"Mmm, all right." He turned to face her and drew her closer to him. "Now I've got to think up something really spectacular for your birthday," he breathed into her ear.
She laughed softly. "Just so long as you can still get up to go running with Ron and Hermione at oh-dark-thirty."
"Oh, hell. I'd forgotten." He turned to look at her clock. "Damn, damn, damn. It's half-three."
"Then you'd better get some sleep." She poked him in the chest playfully. "Can you recover from all this in three hours?"
"Probably not." He turned back to face her, and cuddled her close again. "But I doubt Ron or Hermione can, either."
She chuckled. With a last kiss, she felt Harry slowly relax into sleep. Smiling her contentment, she followed him.