AN: Well, one of my stories has been completed meaning that I get more time to spend on this one. I had major writers block with this story for the last few months, and there was no way I was going to upload a chapter just for the sake of it, it would simply spoil the story. That and I'm also now working with a shitty version of word for the time being which is causing all sorts of problems for me. I appreciate all of you who have stuck around patiently, I do try my best.
Just One More Thing
Chapter 39
****
When their friends finally left later on in the evening, Harry and Hermione immediately started to tidy up the dining area and kitchen. Harry noticed by the rigid way Hermione was gathering up the empty cups and glasses, that she hadn't forgotten what had happened earlier. Harry had really wanted to kill Dean for what he'd said, or rather for what he'd almost said. Dean had no idea how to be diplomatic, that and he really didn't care what trouble he caused people when he spoke without thinking first.
Dean found it funny to drop people in the shit, and that was the reason for Harry's current predicament. Harry was fully aware that he was in the shit, and he was incredibly unsettled by the fact that being deep in it with Hermione Granger was ultimately worse than being in it with anybody else. Their friends had left over ten minutes ago, but she still hadn't spoken, nor even looked at him for that matter. Instead, she just carried on clearing the room of drink ware and straightening out the furniture. He watched her intently, wondering why she didn't use her wand to tidy the room. But then he remembered that whenever Hermione was angry, she always carried out chores the muggle way in an attempt to calm herself down.
Clearing his throat quietly, Harry prepared himself for a tough onslaught. He knew that the witch in front of him could be very feisty at times, though he did admit that whatever she threw at him was quite possibly what he deserved.
"Hermione?" he spoke timidly.
"What?" she asked sharply. She picked up a wine glass from the table he was standing by, and took it to the kitchen area without even looking at him. Harry gripped the back of a nearby dining chair tightly and leaned on it as he blew out a breath. Hermione was clearly pissed off. She walked back over towards him with a wet cloth in her hand and began wiping down the table. There was still no eye contact, and her movements were irate to say the least.
"So today was nice, eh?" he asked lamely with a forced smile. He wanted to lay it out on the table that he'd been a dick to talk to Dean about their sex life, but had already chickened out.
Hermione instantly stilled at his question. Without moving her head, she let her eyes slowly roll upwards to meet his, and then glared at him like she was a woman possessed. Harry flinched slightly; his Hermione sure knew how to give a dirty look, and this time it wasn't the good kind. She held the stare for a few moments in complete silence, and then went back to wiping the table furiously.
Harry licked his lips and then decided that the only thing that would work would be to grovel. He closed his eyes in preparation for his lecture. "Hermione, I'm really, really sorry." Whatever explosion of expletives he had expected to be flung at him in the next few seconds never came. He partially opened one eye to see what was taking so long for her to go off on one, and was surprised to see her just standing there with her hands on her hips, staring at him very intently. He opened his eyes fully and attempted a small smile. "What, no yelling?"
Hermione briefly looked to the ceiling and bit on her lower lip. "Harry," she started calmly, "why, in Merlin's name, in all of our worlds," her tone steadily rising, "would you discuss what you and I do in bed together," her voice now shifting from exasperated to frantic, "with Dean freaking Thomas?!"
Harry shook his head weakly in a pitiful attempt to look innocent. "I-I-I didn't...I-I-don't."
Hermione cocked her head to the side and sent him a warning look. "Oh, really?"
Harry laughed nervously. "Honestly, I can state categorically that I have never told him, not once, what I do in bed with you." Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I only told him what I wanted to do in bed with you. I mean, that's allowed right?"
"NO!" Hermione huffed loudly. "You're supposed to have those conversations with me, not him!"
"Oh, come on babe, you talk to the girls about that stuff all of the time."
"That's different!"
"And how is that?" Harry asked. He was dying to hear the answer to this.
"Because we don't talk about it like...guys talk about it," she tried to explain. "We also talk about the emotions that go with sex. Obviously, the male species still hasn't been able to master the link between the two!"
"What is that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, as if she were nuts.
"It means that, not only do we discuss how it makes us feel physically, we discuss how it makes us feel in here," Hermione told him, pointing to her heart simultaneously with each word. "But men, oh no, you guys only like to talk about how it makes your dicks feel!"
"No, no, that's not true," Harry said shaking his head.
"No?"
"No," he replied firmly. "I'm always telling you how you make me feel when we're...you know."
Hermione looked at Harry as if she were thanking him for proving her point. "That is exactly what I'm talking about! You'd never discuss those kinds of feelings with anyone but me."
Harry rolled his eyes and made a small gesture with his hand in the air. "Hermione, guys don't talk about stuff like that. If I started saying things like `Oh, when Hermione and I make love, I get this warm fuzzy feeling inside,' or even so much as use the term `make love', they'd think I should start hanging out with Justin!"
Hermione saw that this conversation was going nowhere and attempted to bring an end to it quickly. She folded her arms and took a deep breath. "Look, just do me a favour and stop talking to Dean about our sex life."
Harry looked slightly ashamed. He knew that Hermione must have been embarrassed to find out in front of their friends what kind of conversation had taken place between himself and Dean, but he didn't think that she would be this upset. It was just what they did. The men talked about the women, and the women talked about the men. It must have been the fact that he talked about this particular thing with Dean that bothered her, as she made it no secret that he wasn't her favourite person lately.
No matter how juicy conversation got, one thing Harry was always adamant about, was to have respect for Hermione and her feelings. But looking back on that particular night out with the lads, he admitted that he had disregarded them a little. It now killed him inside to admit that the conversation he'd had with Dean, had in fact been just a tad bit inappropriate.
He slowly approached her. "Hermione, I really am sorry. We'd been drinking all night, I had a bit too much and my tongue got a little loose. It won't happen again, I promise."
Hermione could see the sincerity in his eyes and her demeanour softened considerably. "Look, I like that you have friends that you can talk about this stuff with."
Harry was beyond confused. "But I thought you said-"
"I know that men and women's attitudes towards sex are different," Hermione cut him off gently. "It's nature and I accept that. I'm not angry that you talked to one of our friends about our sex life, I'm angry that you talked to Dean about it."
"I know."
"I love the guy, really I do," Hermione said honestly, "it's just sometimes the way he talks about women just...disgusts me. Do you remember last year for my birthday? You all took me out for this incredible meal, which he showed up an hour late for, and when we asked what kept him, his reply was, `Don't sweat it guys," she said in a deep voice to impersonate Dean, "I'd fallen asleep and lost track of time. I just spent the whole day banging this married bitch. Her husband clearly does not know how to fuck!'"
Harry knew he shouldn't, but he had to laugh at Hermione's impression. He remembered that night well and they were the exact words Dean had used. "I remember."
Hermione shook her head as she thought of Dean. "Prick."
"Yeah, he is." Harry nodded whilst smiling. "Lately though, it's as if he's going out of his way to be an even bigger prick."
"To hell with it, I don't want to talk about him anymore," Hermione said clearing her head.
"Good idea."
Hermione got close to him. "But there is one thing I want to know," she said, looping her arms around his neck.
"Yeah? What's that?"
Hermione hovered around his lips. "What exactly did you tell Dean that you wanted to do with me?"
Harry blushed and started laughing. "I can't tell you that."
"Are you kidding me?!"
****
Draco and Ginny had not long gotten into bed. Ginny was reading `Witch and Baby' and Draco was going over some auror files. It had been an exhausting day, but in a good way. Seeing their little baby for the first time had been an emotional experience for them both, and the excitement had taken the energy right out of them. An early night was on the cards, and they had soon settled down into comfortable positions and started to concentrate on their reading material. It wasn't long, though, before they were discussing names for their unborn son.
"Jack?" Draco suggested.
"Umm, no."
"Mason?"
"Nah."
"Alvin?"
"No."
"Simon?"
Ginny glanced at him and smiled. "Draco, be serious."
The blonde laughed and went back to his reading, but it wasn't long before he started thinking again. "Rooney?"
Ginny laughed. "Rooney Malfoy?"
"Yeah!" Draco said, obviously quite impressed with himself.
"No."
"Well, what do you think?" Draco asked, challenging her to do better.
"I'm not sure yet," Ginny replied stroking her belly. "I've got a few in mind, but they're changing all the time."
"Tell me," Draco said softly.
Ginny closed the magazine and faced her husband. "Well, I've always liked the name `Edward'."
"Edward?" Draco repeated.
"Do you not like it?" Ginny asked.
"I don't know," Draco said truthfully. "Let's see if it grows on me, okay?"
Ginny smiled, then scooted over to get closer to him and leant against his shoulder. "I'm so excited."
"Yeah I know," Draco said with a huge grin, "me too."
Ginny looked up at him. "Three weeks today and it's our wedding reception."
"It's come `round fast, huh?"
"Everything's been coming around fast lately," Draco pointed out. "To think a week after our reception, Harry and Hermione will be getting married."
"Time flies. But look at it this way: the sooner the time passes, the sooner we get to meet our little boy."
Ginny's heart warmed at his words. It was still foreign to her that she and Draco would soon be having a baby around, but she couldn't wait for his arrival. She leaned up and kissed Draco's lips before settling down once again. She then started to think of all of the things they would be able to do together as a family.
****
Hermione had not long been in her nightgown and tucked up in bed. She was currently sitting up against the headboard, patiently waiting for Harry to join her. He had just got out of the shower, and was still drying himself off while she desperately tried to think of a way to get him to tell her what he discussed with Dean. She wasn't angry anymore; Harry had told her it would never happen again and she believed him. She had an idea about what he had said to Dean, but she wanted it to come from the horse's mouth.
Harry was lucky that Hermione still found it cute when he struggled to talk about what he wanted in bed. It was different to talk about it when they were actually doing it. She quickly realised that when he was naked and going at it with her, his inhibitions were almost non-existent, as were hers, and that he'd be willing to ask for anything. What she found comical about the whole thing was that, when it was just them talking, Harry was still incredibly shy when it came to talking about sex. Yes, he had talked to Dean, but he had been pissed. She wanted a real conversation about it, where he would tell her what he would like to explore with her, and in return she could tell him what she would like to try.
"What are you thinking about?" A voice interrupted her.
She turned her head and found Harry standing at the en-suite door towelling his hair. He had a towel tied at the waist and looked extremely sexy, something that would only make the conversation she wanted to have even easier. "Do you really want to know?"
He grinned and approached the bed still drying his hair. He got on top of the covers and sat next to her, giving her his full attention. "Always."
"I think I know what you were talking about with Dean," she told him with a smile.
His face gave nothing away. "You think so, eh?"
"Uh-huh," Hermione replied almost smugly. "And what I want right now is to hear it from you."
Harry broke their eye contact, threw the towel he was using for his hair in front of him, and then ran a hand through his hair. He then turned to look at her. "Hermione, I just don't want you to think that I'm some sort of..." he struggled to find a word for it.
"Some sort of what?"
"Some sort of…I don't know," Harry gave up.
"Harry, you're not a pervert if that's what you think," she told him, hoping it'd get through to him. She then laughed softly, causing him to look at her in confusion. "I just don't understand you at times," she said gently.
"What don't you understand?" he asked kindly.
Hermione turned her body a little so that she could see his face more clearly. "When we make love, you encourage me to do things that you like, and you constantly let me know how good I'm making you feel, which I absolutely adore. But for some reason, in situations just like this when we're just talking, you can't tell me what it is that you want. Why is that? I'm not angry about it or anything, and I don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you, it's just that I'd really like to know."
Harry looked thoughtful. "Hermione, I...I..."
She got closer to him and started tenderly stroking his hair. "You know Harry, if you tell me, I'll let you do it."
His mouth bobbed up and down, and it wasn't long before it began to water. The implications of her words, along with the slender fingers that were running through his hair, made him grateful that he was already on the bed, for his legs would have certainly gone out from under him. "Huh?" he mumbled.
Hermione leaned even closer and kissed his cheek lightly. "All you have to do is tell me what you want," she whispered gently in his ear.
Harry closed his eyes as he felt her breath against his skin; he was losing this battle fast. "Hermione, I…I can't," he said shyly.
She wasn't angry; she actually found his shyness to be quite endearing. She pulled back and let her fingertips graze down his perfectly toned chest. "Would it help if you wrote it down on some parchment? That way you won't have to say out it loud."
Harry smiled. His Hermione was always thinking of ways to get around things. "Promise you won't think I'm a disgusting pig?"
"Of course not. You could never be a disgusting pig to me, Harry."
"Do you promise?"
"I promise."
Harry pondered it for a little bit more before finally giving in. "Ok, fine."
Her eyes lit up excitedly, and she immediately reached into her bedside drawer to pull out a pen and some parchment. "Here you go," she said, handing them over to him.
Harry took a deep breath and slowly began to write under the watchful eye of Hermione. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he grinned, slightly embarrassed.
****
It was unusual for him to not to be out on a Saturday night, but all Dean wanted to do was relax. As it turned out, causing trouble for his other friends, and then telling lies to the person he was sleeping with, made him feel quite tired.
Flopping down into his favourite chair and flicking on the television, he was just about to take a swig of his beer when a knock on the door made him sigh and throw his head back in frustration. "Fuck's sake!" He really couldn't be bothered to move. He put his beer to one side and sluggishly went to the door. Upon opening it, he was surprised to see who had disturbed him. "Natasha? What are you doing here?"
"Can I come in?" she asked with a smile.
"Yeah, sure," he replied, still wondering why she was here. They hadn't arranged to meet up tonight. He closed the door and ushered her towards the living area of his flat. They stood for a few moments looking at each other awkwardly.
"I think we should talk," Natasha said softly.
"What about?" Dean asked, already having a rough idea. He mentally prepared himself for Natasha to call him a lying bastard and to tell him that she'd had enough. He honestly wouldn't be able to blame her.
"I don't think I've been very fair to you."
He certainly wasn't expecting that. "Excuse me?"
"I think I've been putting way too much pressure on…this," she said gesturing between the two of them. She couldn't think of a word to describe them.
Dean looked relieved. "…yeah?"
"Yeah," Natasha confirmed. "I mean, I think you're right."
Dean was confused. "Right about what, exactly?"
Natasha put on a big smile that didn't appear to be one hundred percent genuine, not that Dean noticed. "I've been trying to label what we have for a while now. But what I've recently realised is that all we should be doing is having fun, you know?"
Dean nodded furiously in agreement. "Right."
"I mean, we should be able to do whatever we want, whenever we want…with whomever we want!"
Dean was about to agree, but then he heard the last part of her statement. "…whomever we want?"
"Yeah," Natasha nodded. "Think about it: just because we're shagging, doesn't mean that we shouldn't be able to see other people. We're just having a bit of fun, that's all. I mean, it's not like we're in a relationship," she said as she gauged him carefully, "is it?"
Dean was stunned, to say the least. He had no idea where this was coming from, and if he was being honest, he didn't like it one bit. "Well…no…I guess not."
Natasha got closer to him. "I know that you didn't have to work today, and I just wanted you to know that you don't have to worry about making up stuff like that anymore."
"Natasha--"
"Dean," she cut him off. "I didn't come here to get you to apologise. I came here to tell you that I won't be…hoping any longer, for anything more than what you're prepared to give."
"So that's it…?" Dean asked licking his lips; his mouth had gone very dry. "You'd be happy with just…"
"Sex," she finished for him.
"Yeah," he replied, completely dumbfounded by this whole conversation.
"Yes," she confirmed. It wasn't very believable.
Dean wanted to ask her what brought on this sudden change of heart, but with his own heart being so heavy, decided against it. "…Okay."
"Okay."
"So?" he said nervously.
"So…?" she echoed.
"Wanna stay the night?" he asked awkwardly.
Natasha grinned. "Oh Dean, I would've loved to, but…"
"…But what?"
Natasha smiled and shrugged. "I have a date tonight."
Dean's jaw hit the floor.
****
Harry's hands were covering his face to hide his blushes, while Hermione read what he had just wrote down on the parchment. She hadn't said anything yet, but he was terrified of meeting her eyes. Surely she would think he was a dirty pervert after his written admission of what he wanted to experience with her. He waited nervously for her reaction, and moments later he finally got a response.
"Hmm."
"…What?" he asked quietly, cringing away behind his hands.
Hermione did her best not to laugh at his shyness. "It's erm…very interesting."
Harry made a funny sound, causing Hermione to giggle, then shook his head as he peeked through his fingers. "I'm a sleaze."
"You're not a sleaze!" Hermione giggled, before gently prising his hands away from his face.
"You don't think I'm weird?" Harry asked, still not meeting her eyes.
"Of course not, darling," she assured him. "I'm glad you told me."
"…You are?" he asked, finally meeting her gaze.
"Do you really think you've surprised me with this?" she asked as she waved the parchment in her hand. "I knew all along what you wanted Harry, I just needed you to come out and say it, or in this case write it down."
"…Why?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's called intimacy."
"Oh."
Hermione shook her head and then began to chuckle softly. She tossed the parchment across the room and looked at Harry expectantly. "Well?"
Harry went rigid as Hermione moved closer to him. "Well what?"
"Would you like to give it a go?" she asked him seductively.
His eyes widened. "What, now?"
Hermione smiled. "Unless you've got anything else planned for the rest of the night?"
****
Remus and Tonks were settling down on the settee for the night, when all of a sudden Kingsley Shacklebolt apparated into their living room with a pop, causing the couple to jump in fright.
Remus put a hand to his heart. "Merlin, you scared the shit out of me."
"And me," Tonks added, trying to catch her breath, and looking into a pocket mirror just in case her hair had changed colour into something of which you could find in a box of muggle crayons.
"My apologies to you both for barging in like this," Kingsley said. "I would've used the door, but I'm afraid that this is not a social call."
Remus stood up. "What's happened?"
"I was told today that Atkins didn't show up for his preliminary hearing at the ministry this morning," Kingsley told him. "Arthur sent two aurors around to his home soon after, and they found nothing. His place was completely empty."
Remus closed his eyes briefly in anguish. "He's jumped bail."
"So it would seem," Kingsley said with equal gloom.
Remus began pacing. "I don't believe this."
Tonks got up from the settee. "Do Harry and Hermione know?"
Kingsley shook his head. "Arthur didn't wish to worry them should Atkins be apprehended. We don't know for sure when he left or where he could have gone to. Arthur has aurors posing as Met-officers in order to gather some information from neighbours, should they have any to give."
"We should have known he'd do something like this," Remus said sourly. "We should have locked him up from the start."
Kingsley wished the same. "As much as I agree with you, it would have been impossible Remus, you know that. We are bound by the laws of the Ministry: Innocent until proving guilty."
Tonks then thought of something. "What about the snitch?"
Remus and Kingsley both looked at her. "Who?" They asked in unison.
"You know, that Caldwell guy you told me about," Tonks said as she clicked her fingers. "Maybe he knows where he went."
Remus looked at Kingsley. "It's worth a try."
"When?" Kingsley asked.
"No time like the present," Remus replied. "Do you mind, love?" he asked Tonks softly.
"Don't be ridiculous," she replied, kissing his cheek. "Go catch yourself a bad guy."
Remus kissed her forehead, and then went upstairs to get changed.
Kingsley and Remus apparated into Knockturn Alley fifteen minutes later and immediately headed for the Dark Place building. They walked inside and eventually arrived at door 6A. Geoffrey Caldwell's flat.
Kingsley knocked on the door firmly and waited patiently for someone to answer. No one did. He knocked on the door again, but still, no one answered. The two aurors looked at each other knowingly and pulled out their wands.
Remus aimed his wand at the door lock. "Alohomora."
The door unlocked and both aurors cautiously stepped inside. It was very dark, meaning that it was virtually impossible to see.
"Lumos," Kingsley said as he waved his wand in the air. The room immediately filled with the light emitting from his wand. The place was a pig sty, though it was exactly what was expected.
"Caldwell?" Remus called out. "Are you in here?"
There was no answer, so the two men moved further into the flat and began looking around.
It wasn't long before Kingsley stopped dead in his tracks. "What the hell is that smell?"
Remus too smelt a rancid stench, and he was sure it wasn't just the flat's obvious lack of hygiene. He looked around and his eyes soon fell on a door. He got closer to it and sniffed, almost throwing up in the process. "It's coming from in there."
Kingsley went to his side, and raising their wands, they gently pushed the door open. They were soon confronted with the reason for the smell. There, in the middle of his bedroom floor, was Geoffrey Caldwell. He was flat on his back; his eyes wide open from shock, his body rotting away.
"Holy shit," Kingsley said in complete shock.
"I should have known. Only a decaying human body could cause such a stink," Remus said, covering his nose. He raised his wand and muttered a spell from behind his hand.
The smell soon became a little more bearable, and Remus and Kingsley moved into the room further. They stood over Geoffrey's body and glanced around to see if anything would immediately jump out at them in terms of a clue. Nothing did.
Kingsley bent down a little and looked closely at the dead man's chest. It didn't take him long to figure out exactly what had happened. "The killing curse," he muttered darkly, before standing back up.
"We have to owl Arthur," Remus said. "Right now."
****
He would have to thank Dean for this. In some twisted way, it was thanks to his friend that he was currently experiencing something completely mind-blowing. Harry never thought that he'd get away with thinking it, let alone be allowed to actually do it.
Yes, his Hermione was still managing to surprise him. It wasn't as awkward as he thought it would be. After he had written down what it was that he had wanted to do with her, he was sure that he would die from embarrassment. But he should've known Hermione would be up for it from the start. The glint in her eye was unmistakeable as she asked him if he would like to try it. She always did like to learn new things, so why should this be any different?
Being the smartest witch of her age, Hermione easily came up with a way that they could do it in comfort too. She would lie flat on the bed, and he'd have to straddle her just below the chest lightly. Harry had to admit that he was a bit embarrassed at first. He knew that Hermione wasn't going to get any pleasure form this at all, that she wouldn't be drunk with lust and its physical sensations. Therefore, she'd be able to completely focus on him whilst he was getting all the benefit. She had assured him that she was more than happy to do this for him, that their sex life was about give and take, and that she had plans to take her fair share afterwards, so he needn't worry. It was a comment that earned her a playful smack on her bottom.
So this was how Harry found himself: he was on the bed naked, straddling an equally naked Hermione just below her chest, completely entranced by the vision of his cock sliding up and down in-between her breasts. Hermione's hands pushed her breasts together firmly, as she tried to cause as much friction for him as possible, whilst Harry rested on his thighs as he continued to thrust forwards and backwards. Hermione watched his thigh muscles clench appreciatively, as Harry kept his weight off of her while keeping up his movements.
It wasn't long before Harry's breathing became ragged. The new feelings being caused by Hermione's soft mounds were completely different to those that came from being inside of her, but the sensations that were swirling around inside his dick at that moment were still delightfully indescribable. He was no longer embarrassed, though. It had only taken a few moments after he'd first wedged his cock between her breasts for it to ebb away. All he could focus on at that moment was the completely erotic image in front of him, and how it was making him feel. It was so fucking hot.
Soon, Harry started to feel the proverbial churning within his balls, and in a lame attempt to last a bit longer, he threw his head back in order to concentrate on his endurance, because it was simply a virtually impossible thing to do whilst watching the erotic scene below him. He found that he couldn't help himself though, and looked back down to see Hermione gazing at him knowingly. His lust-filled mind made him temporarily forget that Hermione now knew when he was close.
He also forgot just how wicked a witch his Hermione could be.
It was impossible not to look. All he could do was watch hopelessly as Hermione slowly raised her head from the pillow a little, and teasingly stick her tongue out. The tip of it finally came into contact with the engorged head of his cock when he eagerly thrust forward.
"Oh fuck," he gasped almost incoherently, falling forward a little. Hermione simply giggled; something that also turned him on. "Not fair," he croaked out as he started to straighten back up.
It only took a few more thrusts back and forth before Harry finally felt the hot liquid racing to the end of his shaft. He quickly pulled himself away from Hermione's breasts, collapsed onto his back at the side of her, and groaned loudly as his hot seed rapidly shot out onto his stomach.
Hermione glanced at him expectantly as he battled to get his breath back, a smile forming on her face. She looked very pleased with herself. "Well?"
Harry turned his head and saw her pleased face. "That was fucking incredible," he panted.
"Really?"
"Ab-so-fuckin-lutely," Harry grinned, eventually turning his head up toward the ceiling.
Hermione smiled even wider and then stared up at the ceiling as well. A few seconds later she heard Harry quickly mutter the cleaning charm beside her. "By the way, thanks for not cumming on face."
Harry laughed loudly at her words. She had obviously noticed his conscious effort to prevent that from happening when he had literally jumped off of her before shooting his load.
He propped himself up on his forearm and looked down at her. "Merlin, Hermione, I do love your dirty mouth."
"I'm glad." Hermione chuckled. "Though, I think it's only fair that I tell you now, that I would never, ever, want or allow you to do that."
Harry knew what she was referring to, and it was the reason he had jumped off of her so quickly. He knew she wouldn't have liked it. He put his free hand to her chest and started to rub one of her breasts gently. "Anywhere else?"
"I'm fine with anywhere below the neck," Hermione told him.
"That sounds fair," he said, before leaning down and kissing the soft mound that was in his hand. "I think these are my new favourite things," he whispered against her skin.
Hermione grinned as her fingers reached up to start playing with his hair, her eyes closing in delight as he took her nipple into his mouth and began sucking on it gently. A soft moan escaped her lips as his hand fell from her breast and slowly slid down over her stomach, his fingers coming to a stop as they reached in-between her legs.
It was now Hermione's turn to take.
The two lovers completely lost themselves in each other, blissfully unaware of what was unfolding elsewhere.
****
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