A/N: This was my submission for the sinfully-romione "7 Deadly Sins" fanfiction fest on Tumblr this year. The fest was anonymous, but authors have been revealed, so here this is! If not obvious, my submission was for the "Lust" category...

The top left corner of his fitted bed sheet had pulled away from the mattress, as she clenched it in her fist, her tangled hair fanning across his pillow, tilting her chin up as he lowered his nose to her ear, half-kissing and half-breathing against her smooth jaw. His right hand slid partway under her lower back, arching her slightly against him as she tightened the leg already wrapped around his waist.

"Oh, fuck… are you-" he panted to her cheek.

"Almost," she breathed back, moving her hips as she clutched his shoulder, fingers of his left hand digging into her thigh.

It had been almost three months since the first time, but they'd only recently gotten close to her having an orgasm while he was inside of her. It nearly made her blush as she thought about it, even now, naked, in his bed.

Ron was starting to get quite good at figuring out what to do. Letting go of her leg, panting erratically, he widened her thighs a bit and angled his body over hers so he could slide a hand up her torso to pinch her hardened nipple. She pushed her chest hard against his fingers, automatically, holding her breath.

"Gotta… wait…" he managed to choke out, slowing his pace suddenly.

"It's okay," she exhaled, nerves building rapidly. "Don't slow down."

"Yeah?" he asked, lifting his head to find her eyes, sweat forming at his temples.

She tried to nod, but she was suddenly much too focused on his hand against her thigh again, tugging her leg to hook over his elbow as he squeezed her arse, returning to his previous pace and almost immediately swearing out a slurred word she couldn't understand.

But his voice and some change in the angle of his body again hit exactly the right spot, and she dropped her hand from his shoulder to clutch his sheets in both fists, a squeaky moan sliding between her parted lips. Her muscles constricted as she closed her eyes, overwhelmed by sensation.

He was shaking a bit, and she finally managed to crack open her eyes again to look up at his slightly shocked, slightly dazed face.

"That was amazing…" she breathed out, her whole body now surely the approximate consistency of jelly.

"Fucking hell."

He shifted his weight, and, rather than sliding to the side and off of her, he dropped his head, fringe falling into his eyes and elbows pressing into the bed on either side of her as he dragged his body down, lowering his cheek to her stomach and collapsing. Her heart beat audibly in her ears for a moment, watching his head move up and down on her stomach as she breathed.

He adjusted his arms until her legs were half over his shoulders, his biceps underneath, elbows bent so his large hands could spread across her chest. She could feel his hot breath on her hip, and she smiled, content.

"Not everyone has that, you know," she said softly, reaching absentmindedly down to run her fingers through his hair.

"Mmm?" he questioned, sounding a bit far away and sleepy now.

"Some women can't, really… during sex… without hands or…" she trailed off, cheeks burning a bit.

"Heard something like that once," he mumbled, turning his head so he could meet her eyes, chin resting lightly over her belly button. She got the distinct impression he was trying not to look too pleased with himself.

"I'll give you some credit," she said, pausing to press her lips together to hold back her grin. "You've been practicing."

"Oi, that wasn't all my idea," he laughed, clearly thinking of her suggestion a few weeks ago… which caused her to blush yet again.

"It does make it last longer, if you… you know… do that to yourself… beforehand."

"You're in my bed, naked. You can use actual words."

"I hate you," and she tugged his hair just a little bit too hard. He winced and retaliated by biting her inner thigh.

"Been practicing something else, too," he grinned, "and you knowbecause you were there."

"Hm?" she started to question, but then he was dragging an open-mouthed kiss down her thigh until his face disappeared between her legs. She gasped and clutched his bicep in a tight grip, nails digging in a bit hard.

She pressed her head to his pillow and her eyes drifted up to his slanted ceiling, his warm hands covering her breasts. She made an involuntary, breathy sound, surprised when it escaped her parted lips as a mousy squeak, and she felt him groan against her, causing yet another wave of pleasure to run through her at the vibration of his voice.

"Talk to me," she suggested, almost panting, not quite comprehending what she was even asking.

He paused and lifted his head a fraction.

"Bit busy at the moment," he said, and she could hear the grin in his voice as she smiled.

"Just try," she said softly, running her nails lightly across his shoulders and glancing down at him.

He shivered with erupting gooseflesh and half shrugged, dragging his fingertips over her nipples and down her ribs before ducking again. Her eyes slid shut as she sucked in a breath, parting her legs a bit wider.

He muttered something completely unintelligible before laughing at his own attempt, hot waves of his deep tone pulsing into her. She felt him do it again, and she twitched with building nerves.

Her senses were heightened by his skin and his voice and his crisp bed sheets… and the unbelievable feeling of his mouth on her. She could hear his watch ticking on his bedside table, smell the shampoo he'd used earlier, feel the temperature of the room rise slightly in opposition to the cooling charm she'd set an hour previous.

And she could hear his mum, calling them for dinner.

Her eyes popped open at the same moment that he lifted his head and snatched his wand from under the edge of his mattress.

"Muffliato," he muttered, flicking his wand over his shoulder and tossing it to the rug before lowering his head again.

"Oh my God…" she sighed, unsure if she was more nervous of his family banging down his door or turned on by his casual use of magic while lying naked between her legs… Her body decided for her, reacting very positively to him muttering something that sounded vaguely like her name.

She clutched his hair again in one fist and his sheets in the other, snapping her eyes shut again and shaking. He held her waist in both of his hands, fingers stretching up her sides toward her ribs as she moaned.

Falling quit limp, she exhaled hotly and blinked her eyes open as he tugged her left leg over his head to join her right and crawled up beside her.

"What time is it?" he asked, looking slightly drunk.

She stared at him for several seconds in silent confusion.

"What?"

"I saw the time on my watch before I started. Wondering if I broke a record."

Her eyes went wide as she caught his meaning.

"Prat!" but she laughed, turning onto her side to face him. "I'm not telling you what time it is."

He grinned at her and shrugged, draping an arm over her waist and tugging her a bit closer.

They stared lazily at each other for several minutes, breathing. But then, she remembered.

"Oh! Your mum!"

"Shit."

He leaned over her and tried but failed to reach his wand on the rug. Sighing, he sat up and crawled over her, out of bed. She flipped to her other side and watched him as he stood, going to his chest of drawers for clothes. He pulled on a pair of pants and stretched his arms overhead… and she swallowed, eyes drifting up over his hipbones, ginger hairs, the flat expanse of his stomach, muscles of his chest, tendons of his neck…

She really wasn't at all hungry for actual food.

He bent to pick up his wand, swished it toward the door, and clamped it between his teeth as he picked up his jeans, stepping into them and working them up his freckled legs.

She fought back the ringing alarm of being merely a month away from leaving him…

He removed his wand from his mouth, tucked it into his back pocket, and reached out a long arm to snatch a t-shirt off the top of his chest of drawers.

"If you swear to never put a shirt on again, I'll skip my last year at Hogwarts," she said, propping up on her elbow and suppressing a grin. He froze, dropping the shirt to the floor. "But you've also got to explain to your mum why you're coming to dinner half-naked."

"Bloody unfair," and he picked up the shirt for the second time. "At least we've got the flat in-" but he cut himself off, glancing at her suspiciously before disappearing in cotton. He emerged quickly, wrangling his arms through the sleeves as she sat all the way up, furrowing her eyebrows in his direction.

"What flat? What are you saying?"

"What?" he responded, dully. "Oh, nothing."

"Ron."

She stood, catching his attention immediately, still completely starkers. His eyes raked down her body and back up again. She sniffed loudly, and he returned his flushed face to her attention, blinking. She glared at him.

"Oh, bloody hell." He ran a hand across his stubbly jaw. "Alright, gotta tell you now, shit… Sorry, Harry."

"What's Harry got to do-"

"We're getting a flat in Hogsmeade for the year so we can be close to you and Ginny," he cut in, lifting an eyebrow as her eyes widened. "We were planning to keep it a surprise til King's Cross, but, apparently, I'm literally the worst at keeping stuff from you… aside from the fact that I was definitely in love with you for more than a fucking year before I told you…"

"Wait," she breathed. "You… and Harry… are moving to Hogsmeade." She paused just to listen to the echo of her own statement. "Are you… are you serious?!"

"Yeah," he said, grinning lopsidedly. "That alright?"

"Shut up," and she threw herself against his chest, tugging his neck with both hands to crush his mouth to hers.

His hands were on her bare back and his tongue was between her lips… and someone's voice was ringing in her ears. Someone just on the other side of his door…

"Ron? Oi!"

Ron pulled away from her to glare over the top of her head toward his door.

"Go away, Harry!"

"D'you want your mum to come up next?" Harry called back immediately.

She could hear the note of amusement in Harry's voice, but that didn't stop her heart from pounding at the idea of Mrs. Weasley walking in on her naked and hanging on her son…

She dropped her arms from his neck and searched for her clothing, dressing quickly, realising afterward that Ron hadn't moved an inch. She looked up to find him staring at her, and he smiled, shrugging.

"You got to watch me," he rationalised, crossing the room in several strides to open his door, revealing Harry still waiting on the landing outside.

Harry lifted an eyebrow, glancing in at Hermione.

"I should update you," Ron said. "She knows about Hogsmeade."

"Good job," Harry teased, rolling his eyes.

"Not sure how the hell that happened," he added, smirking slightly as Hermione walked past him to join Harry on the landing.

"Because it was a stupid thing to surprise me with, gits," she said, glaring between Harry and Ron.

Harry smiled at her, shrugging.

"Can't get rid of us," he said.

"But there's basically a one hundred percent chance you'll be helping us with Auror training shit when you come by," Ron added.

"I'd have expected no less," she said happily, taking his hand as they started down the stairs.