It was slightly gratifying to have Hermione falter in her step, giving him a startled look. Putting others off balance was a skill he had cultivated, especially in his youth, and it was nice to know he could manage it with her if only for a handful of heartbeats. She was dressed like a Christmas present in a lovely flowing golden muggle robe with a cinched in waist and belled out skirt, very fetching and absolutely a perfect compliment to her warm autumn coloring. Her vibrant curls were swept back off her face and secured by a delicate little flower barrette that made her look far more innocent that he knew her to be and matched her equally virginal sandals. For some reason the effect had his heart pounding in his chest so hard he thought it was going to escape.

She didn't run. She didn't give him a dirty look or a contemptuous sneer. She didn't even sigh. Instead, her eyes opened wide with surprise and before he knew it she had hurried up to him and taken his arm to lead him away from her car as if they were old friends and she greeted him everyday. He allowed himself to be led, fighting a giddy smile, and listening to her low breathy voice with growing excitement as he realized they were headed back towards her building.

"We can't be seen together," she was whispering furtively, looking about. "Have you seen the papers? The press would have a field day with a photograph of you and I together here."

Together, he liked the way that sounded. The warmth of her fingers wrapped around his arm, the closeness of her body, was almost overwhelming.

"Did you get my flowers?" He asked inanely, ignoring her near panic and enjoying her exasperated irritation as she told him they were 'very nice' out of pursed lips.

She urgently pressed a button on the ugly concrete wall she had led him to and angled her body in such a way that he blocked her from view. She was closer to him, close enough for him to see the golden flecks in her beautiful eyes, but she released his arm and the spot felt cold and bare where her warmth used to be. "Did you see where that Rita Skeeter said we'd been an item since school?" She asked, a mere whisper and he leaned in a bit to hear her better, breathing in the clean warm scent of her. There was a bell, and a door slid open to reveal a lift. Before he could ask about it she had hustled him inside and pressed one of the lit up buttons inside rendering them alone in the darkened space.

Well, if she wanted him alone so badly, he wasn't going to waste any more time being timid and stupid.

She opened her mouth but he didn't give her a chance to say anything else. He stepped in, slid an arm around her waist pulling her in close, and tasted those pink plump lips of hers.

She did sigh then, a little puff of air against his lips, and leaned into him warm and willing and delicious. Even if this lift was half as slow as the one at the ministry he only had a few moments before they reached the third floor and he intended to take advantage of every warm wet sucking moment of it. He pulled and pressed and nibbled at firm soft lips that kissed him back, thrilled in the way she pressed her curves against him, groaned in her mouth when one long slender arm slipped around his neck to pull him even closer.

He might have kissed her forever and never moved from this spot if the contraption they were on hadn't beeped and automatically opened, flooding the space with artificial light. He couldn't shag the girl here, he told himself, surely she had a bed or a sofa or a bathtub in her new little flat where he could get her horizontal. All his doubt and self loathing and hopelessness from the last two weeks rattled in his head along with his acute awareness of his arms around her, the taste of her in his mouth, the quickened breath of desire.

She didn't protest when he backed her into the hall, but he got no further than the opposite wall where she wrapped herself around him and proceeded to subtly burn him where he stood with smoldering kisses that rendered thought and planning and logic impossible. It was slow clapping from an onlooker along with a low wolf whistle that broke them apart, Hermione springing back startled and blushing.

"Oh, don't mind me," said the rude floppy haired muggle who'd interrupted them. "Just enjoying the show."

Clearly embarrassed and flustered she was quick to grab his hand and tug him along again, not that he protested, to a door marked with cheap brass numbers, 312. She glanced down the hall double checking for muggles before pulling her wand to unlock her door and pushing him inside in one quick movement. She shoved her front door closed behind her, leaning against it with a nervous laugh.

Her lips were swollen from his attention, dewy and just a little bit wet. A lovely flush to her skin, hair slightly mussed, her eyes wide, her chest heaving just a little. He couldn't help but look her over and was absolutely enchanted when she blushed like a schoolgirl and ducked her eyes, unable to keep eye contact. He had never seen her act shy in all their time at school and certainly not during their tumultuous night together. How much of her bold assertiveness had been the drink?

No better time than to find out, he told himself, taking her hand and pulling her closer. "We should talk," she whispered breathily and he agreed completely, tilting her chin up, brushing a finger over her petal soft bottom lip, so he could glimpse the heaven within.

"Yeah," he managed to get out passed a throat gone tight. Here she was again, better than any fantasy he'd ever had. Completely sober, washed in daylight from the window, looking up at him with desire and trust and just a hint of uncertainty.

"Later," he declared. Later when his mind was clear from the fog of lust and he'd had a chance to show her exactly how he felt before he let words get in the way. Better to use body language, apparently they spoke it fluently. Especially with their lips.

Soft warm curves and rotating hips and slow sucking kisses layered one over the other. Her long silky hair tangled in his fingers as he bent her head back to get at her slender neck, the fluttering pulse beneath her skin, creamy shoulders, round breasts. The ties of her dress came off easy allowing him to shove it out of the way and the solid weight of the door allowed him to press into her, gave him leverage to get one thigh wedged in between her long legs to rock against her starting up that old ancient friction that begged for completion.

But he needed more.

"Bedroom," he panted in her ear even as he lifted her up, wrapping those slender thighs around his hips, making his way down the hall between breathless kisses. Her door was ajar and he shoved them inside and sprawled them out on the bed loath to surrender his place between her thighs to finish getting her naked. But it wasn't up to him. Whatever shyness she had felt earlier had evaporated and she didn't hesitate to tug on his buttons to get him out of his shirt, attacked his belt, reached inside to wrap strong confident fingers around the length of him shorting him out so bad he almost fell over on top of her from the pleasure of it.

He was never going to last with her warm soft hand gliding and tugging over his cock like that. Looking down, wetting freshly kissed pink lips like maybe she might take him into her pretty perfect mouth. That was one fantasy he didn't think he'd survive. Not now, first her. Then it wouldn't matter if he popped off quick, as long as she was already sated. He shimmied the rest of his way out of his trousers and toed off his shoes unable to stop himself from thrusting into her touch, drinking in the sight of her thighs spread open to make room for him draped in a dress that was almost falling off her shoulders.

He wished he had thought to bring a camera.

No matter, now was not the time to stop and admire. Now was the time to touch and taste and please. He tugged on the fabric of her dress, rocking her arse back and forth to get it out from underneath her and forcing her to let go of his hard weeping length to lift her hands for him to pull the dress over head leaving her lovely curves only covered in scraps of blue satin. He pushed in closer between her thighs, pushing his naked cock up against her panties, shuddering uncontrollably when confronted by wet silk and rocking back and forth smearing the wetness of her desire up and down his length while he captured her lips with his, plunging his tongue inside, mimicking the thrusting motion of his hips.

Her bra was discarded as quickly as his shaking hands could manage and after just a few seconds of tugging her hard nipples he was pushing her back so he could lick and suck and bite at them instead. He probably ought to slow down, touch her more gently, kiss her more sweetly. But her thighs were splayed wide open, hips thrusting back at him, pressing her tits more firmly into his face and he just couldn't help but take what he wanted from her. Any resistance and he would have pulled back, but each gentle nip, firm squeeze, sucking kiss had low breathy sounds of desire coming from her lips.

He'd make it up to her. He'd spend all day and night making love. He'd rub her and kiss her and massage her pretty feet and wash her silky hair. He would. He'd take his time. Later. Now, now he had to peel her panties off of her and pull her arse to the foot of the bed so he could get a taste of that sweet honey pot. Kiss her pretty pussy lips as thoroughly as he had her mouth. Lick and suck and learn her like a fine instrument. Wet and slippery before he ever applied his tongue and easy to read. Rocking hips and shaking legs let him know when he hit the right spot and he let her set the pace to get her there. Two twisting fingers did the trick, flooding wetness on his tongue and chin, shuddering while he licked her through it.

He expected her to take a minute, recover, but before he even had a chance to wipe his face on the bedsheet she was pulling him up on the bed, pushing him into the mattress, climbing astride him. He might have gone slow, worked his way in, given her a moment to adjust, but she slid him inside with one deep thrust and he was never one to deny a lady what she so clearly needed.

So he wrapped his hands around her hips for leverage and pushed up into her warm wet heat and kept up with the pounding pace she set, pulling her down hard on his cock, shoving it as deep and firm as she wanted with each thrust. He wasn't going to last but a few minutes so he pressed one firm finger over her glistening wet clit in a firm circle to help her get there. Her body bowed and shook, muscles clamping down in spasms over his cock, he thrust one, two, three more times before she relaxed over him, kissing him deep and sweet and that set him over the edge more than anything else and he lost all control, clutching her close, ramming out his pleasure with reckless strokes until she milked the last bit of juice from him and lay against him trembling and sated.