Disclaimer: See Part 1
Author's Note: And now what you've all been waiting for, the smut! :-)
Part 3 of 3. Enjoy! And thanks for reading and reviewing.
An Affair of the Heart
Part 3: Just Right
It was quite possibly the longest dinner in the history of the world.
Or at least, that's what it felt like.
It was as good a dinner as Mrs. Weasley usually made-or, he assumed it was. He tasted very little of it and as far as he was concerned, all the food could have been made out of sawdust and he doubted he'd have noticed a thing-but everyone else enjoyed it. The conversation was as lively as any dinner conversation including Fred and George always was but every once in a while, Harry's gaze would catch Hermione's from across the table and he would lose track of where he was and what people were talking about as he could see the promise in her eyes.
The evening seemed to last forever.
But finally, finally, he, Ron and Hermione managed to tear themselves away from Mrs. Weasley's motherly hospitality and Apparate back to their flat.
He and Hermione hadn't touched since going into dinner, had carefully kept apart in fact.
He was finding, though, that as far as trying to keep his mind off of Hermione-and all the things he wanted to do with Hermione and to Hermione-not touching her had no effect at all.
They were both silent as the three of them entered their flat, as Ron turned on the lights, and as they all shrugged off their cloaks.
Ron yawned, glancing at his two best friends, who were standing motionless in the hallway just staring at each other. He rolled his eyes, stifling the urge to forcibly push them together or possibly hit them to get their attention. "Goodnight," he said in an unnaturally loud voice.
"Night," Harry answered absently, not looking at Ron.
"Goodnight," Hermione said, equally distractedly.
Ron had the distinct impression that neither of them would have noticed if he had suddenly begun tap-dancing on top of the coffee table in the living room, so absorbed were they by the other.
With a last roll of his eyes, Ron retreated to his bedroom, closing his door behind him with a decided click.
"I-" Harry began, his voice strangely hoarse, before he stopped, not sure what he was going to say.
But as if the sound of his voice had allowed her to make a decision, she stepped closer to him and she was the one to close the distance between their mouths and kiss him.
His arms closed around her, bringing her in tightly against him, as his tongue explored the depths of her mouth.
Her hands slid into his hair, messing it up even more than it already was, and then wandered down over the muscles she could feel in his shoulders and on his back. And it was just as it had been back at the Burrow, except better. There was the same excitement, the same fire. She could feel the hardness of his erection pressed against her and part of her mind couldn't help but think, in some wonder, even now, that she could make Harry feel this way. That she could arouse him like this-after so many months of despairing that he would ever think of her in anything but a platonic fashion.
They moved blindly, still kissing and not letting go of each other, until they reached her bedroom as it was closer than his was and stumbled inside.
Harry let go of her briefly to close and lock the door and then turned back, pausing as his eyes roamed the length of her body, still in her dress.
She made a move to unzip herself but he stopped her with a quick gesture. "Let me," he said softly.
And he did. Slowly, deliberately, he slid her zipper down and then stripped her gown off her as if he were unwrapping a priceless gift, leaving her in her bra and her nylons. He sucked in his breath staring at her and she blushed, wishing she had a better figure, was skinnier, perhaps, looked more like those gorgeous witches featured in Witch Weekly. But then, any thought of that left her when she saw the expression in his eyes as he stared at her-as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world. With the same deliberate care and pausing to caress every inch of her bare skin on the way until her breath was coming in shallow pants and every nerve of her skin was sensitized, he unhooked her bra and slid it off.
"Oh God, Hermione." The words escaped his lips in a half-strangled groan as he looked at her and then his hands were on her, cupping, kneading, his thumbs pausing to flick over her hardened nipples until she lost all self-consciousness to be standing nearly naked in front of him, in the haze of sheer arousal and lust coursing through her body.
Her eyes had drifted closed only to fly open when she felt his mouth close over one of her nipples, his tongue laving it and her knees weakened, literally, when his teeth nipped, ever-so-gently, at her breast. She clutched his shoulders to keep from falling and then she felt his hands at her hips, rolling her nylons down her legs and taking her knickers with them.
Oh dear God…
She could feel her mind beginning to fly apart at the seams and summoned every last remaining bit of coherence to gasp, "Wait."
He stopped and met her eyes and she felt a smile that could only be described as sultry curve her lips and wondered, idly, how it was that she somehow knew how to smile like that. She felt different-beautiful, sexy, alluring, all those things she'd never thought she was, until now, and this moment, with him. He made her feel this way, with the way he touched her, the way he looked at her…
"My turn now," she said softly, and kissed him, her tongue caressing his lips before sliding inside his mouth to taste him. Her hands went to the collar of his shirt, unbuttoning it as quickly as her fingers could before she pulled his shirt out of his trousers and then pushed it off his shoulders.
And then she paused, her hands lightly resting on his chest, positively drinking in the sight of him. She had seen his bare chest before. She'd seen him with only a towel wrapped around his waist after a shower but she'd never thought that she'd see him standing like this, naked to the waist, in front of her, when she could touch him the way she wanted to.
Her hands wandered at their leisure over his chest and down his stomach, loving the way he tensed at her touch.
She turned her attention to his trousers, undoing them and pushing them and his boxers down his legs so he could step out of them.
And she saw the one part of him that she didn't know. She feathered her fingers along the hot hardness of him, heard his groan, until he grabbed her hand, stopping her half-innocent, half-bold and entirely arousing exploration.
His eyes burned into hers for a moment before he crushed his lips to hers, kissing her hard and deeply.
Their naked bodies were pressed against each other, skin to skin, hands wandering, caressing, stroking, learning the other's body.
She was vaguely aware of moving backwards and then found herself falling back onto her bed, her arms keeping him with her as they landed in a tangle of arms and legs.
His lips left hers to brush small, butterfly kisses over her face, her eyelids, the corner of her eyebrows, her nose, the spot right next to her ears, the corners of her lips and then further down. She had the sudden thought that he was memorizing her features, but the thought dissipated-along with every other thought in her mind-as his mouth continued its journey further down her body, pausing to suck at one nipple and then the other.
She moaned and arched into his touch, her hands tightening their grip on his shoulders.
"Beautiful. So beautiful," he murmured against her skin.
His mouth-his wonderful, incredible mouth-moved further down and she knew a moment of surprise. He wasn't-he couldn't-he was and he did…
His lips closed over the very center of her, licking, sucking until she wondered wildly if it was possible for her head to simply explode from the pleasure spreading out like a tidal wave through her entire body. Her fingers clutched convulsively at the sheets, the almost-manic pleasure building up inside her until his tongue moved against her in a swirl and she screamed, her muscles clenching, her vision going black until she saw stars.
He slid back up her body and she framed his face with her hands, even as her body still trembled from the force of her orgasm, kissing him fiercely, tasting herself on his tongue.
And then it was her turn.
Her hands, her lips, moved over him with a selfish need to know, to learn every inch of his body as he had learned hers. She caressed him with touch and tongue with an urgency she'd only dreamed of, returning his passion with her own. They were a tangle of arms and legs and skin against skin and spiraling heat. Passion filled her senses and her soul.
He stopped her caresses with a groan and a hand and she looked up to meet his eyes.
Oh yes…
He shifted positioning himself at her entrance, pausing at the last moment to stare down at her, his eyes asking a silent question which she answered by drawing his head down for a kiss.
He wanted no other answer and slowly, pushed forward until he was inside her. She felt a sharp flash of pain and cried out, her fingers tensing on his shoulders, and felt him flinch at her cry. That simple act, that he flinched at her pain, filled her heart and almost insensibly, she felt herself relax, the pain subsiding, and she urged him on with another kiss, kissing him with her heart, her very soul.
He thrust further until he was completely buried inside her and she gasped at the shocking feel of intimacy and the stunning sensation of- of rightness… The word darted into her mind and she could only accept the truth of it. This was right…
And all the emotion she felt was expressed in a single word. "Harry."
"Hermione," he breathed in response, moving one hand to brush her hair away from her face, caressing her cheek.
He kissed her again, at first tenderly and then harder, as the passion from earlier overtook them again and all thought of rightness or tenderness or anything else left her mind to be replaced by the more simple, primal feeling of lust, hot and undeniable.
Slowly at first and then faster, his hips began to move. She met his every thrust, her legs opening wider and tangling with his legs and urging him on deeper.
On and on… More and more… Sensation upon sensation building on top of each other…
She gasped and then cried out as she felt herself hit the peak, again, the world graying out around her and waves of pure physical pleasure coursing through her body, drowning out everything else-everything except the one glimpse she had, before her eyes unfocused, of the look in his eyes as he watched her climax.
She was still trembling when he stiffened, his jaw clenching, and he thrust inside her a last time, clutching her even tighter to him as he spilled himself inside her, his half-shout, half-groan partially smothered by her hair.
He collapsed on top of her, both of them fighting to catch their breath. After a minute-or ten-he lifted his head, kissing her again, this time gently, their passion spent.
She felt a pang of loss as he slipped out of her body but then he drew her close, his arms going around her, keeping her with him as he rolled onto his side.
She turned over to face him, although she kept as close to his body as possible, wanting to preserve the contact.
Their eyes met and held and she wondered that even now, when rationality was creeping back into her mind, she felt no awkwardness about being naked like this with Harry. And it wasn't awkward; it was simply what she'd been waiting for her entire life.
The words slipped from her lips unconsciously, on the heels of that thought. "I love you."
The smile began in his eyes before spreading to his lips. "I love you."
She stared. "You do?"
He laughed and then kissed her, gently pulling her until she was lying half on top of him. "What did you think this was?" he asked softly, between kisses. "Just lust? It was more than that; you know it was." He paused and then added, "It was just-right…"
She smiled against his lips at hearing that he'd felt the same rightness she had and then curled up next to him, her body fitting perfectly against his.
Yes, this really was just right…
~*~
Harry awoke slowly to the awareness of the warm body pressed against his side.
He could tell from the evenness of her breathing that she was asleep and was almost surprised at the wave of protectiveness and tenderness he felt.
Oh this was love. He loved her. He had realized it sometime between trying not to stare at her during dinner and coming back to their flat, that what he felt for her could not be anything but love. It was so much more than lust; it was in the way he thought about her constantly, in the way he cared about her opinion so much. It was in the way he'd felt when he'd seen the evidence of tears in her eyes earlier. He cared so much about her, entirely separate from his desire for her… Of course he loved her.
He had known it at that moment and then he had felt the absolute truth of it the moment he'd first seen her body, caressed her bare skin. Had felt it in how it had suddenly ceased to be about him or about his desires but had become about him and her together, about them… Had realized it as he continued touching her, arousing her, as instinct and love substituted for his lack of experience… He had known that even as his body felt as it would spontaneously combust from his lust for her, the feeling that filled his heart, his very soul, was nothing other than love.
For that moment, he was completely happy, had no wish to be anywhere else in the world. Just to be here with Hermione watching her sleep.
Moving slowly so as not to wake her, he moved up onto his elbow so he could see her better. His eyes followed the line of her body from her bare shoulder down to where her waist tapered in, her hips and her legs.
He had thought it before when he'd undressed her and thought it again now: all his fantasies hadn't done her body justice. She was gorgeous, perfect.
Not beautiful, perhaps, by conventional standards, but so beautiful in his eyes.
She didn't have a perfect hour-glass figure, per say. She looked what she was, healthy, fit, slim and very delightfully curved.
Her breasts weren't large but they were perfect for his hands.
And she had gorgeous legs. He'd already had a healthy appreciation for her mouth and hands and breasts but somehow he'd never really thought about her legs. Now, after seeing them, he was rapidly gaining a strong partiality for her legs as well.
And he was positively in love with her responsiveness. The way she had reacted to his every touch had fueled his own arousal and, dear Merlin, but the way she had touched him!
If he had known of the passion in her nature, he thought half-ruefully, he would have given in to his desires and kissed her long ago.
The sight and sound of her when she came was worth the entire universe and more-and the sexiest thing he had ever seen.
He was hard again from his thoughts but before he could decide whether to wake her up with kisses and caresses or do the more noble thing and let her sleep, the decision was taken out of his hands.
She shifted and then her eyes opened slowly.
She smiled softly when her eyes met his. "Hello."
He smiled as well, wondering if he looked as ridiculously happy as he felt. "Hello," he answered equally quietly.
Her eyes wandered over his body, pausing on his erection, her smile widening.
Then she moved so she was half lying on top of him, kissing him slowly and deeply, her hair falling down around his face in a brown curtain.
Her hand made its way down his body to gently wrap around his arousal and he groaned, thrusting into her hand.
He could feel his mind losing any command of his thoughts, coherence dissipating rapidly with every touch of her hand.
And his last thought before he completely gave himself up to the raging lust and the passion between them was, Forever.
He could happily be inside her forever.
He could touch her like this forever.
He could feel her touch him like this forever.
He could kiss her forever.
He could-and he would-love her forever…
~The End~