A/N: In honor of Hermione's 34th B'day, here is a fic for her. It's set July 1998 for those in Benton. Rated M for a whole Lemon grove.There's plot to it but that's at the end of it all. Just sayin'.

And my Solicitor wanted me to remind everyone that I'm not Jo, I don't open IP or Copyright to anything in the HP world. But I will admit this plot was inspired. *dragon blushing* - DG

Early sunlight drifted through the blinds of their shared room. It was too early for Ron but the night before and the emotional drain from everything that had happened while they had been in Australia was more than enough on his tattered soul. Only the two days home so far and sleeping off their travel fatigue had helped some.

He lifted his head and saw a tangled mop of bushy brown hair laying on her side, snuggled into his warmth.

They were supposed to go to his parent's house for dinner tomorrow night but after the rows they had with his parents before they left for Australia, dinner was the last thing he wanted to do with his parents. Hermione already told him once to go without her, but he wasn't leaving her in the mostly empty house while he ate four plates of dinner and three helpings of dessert while she nibbled on bread and drank tea. His promise to her extended to meals with the family.

But at the moment, food wasn't on his mind. The stiffy shoved into the mattress made the morning already uncomfortable.

Ron lifted his arm from his sleeping girlfriend and threw on his housecoat. He didn't want to give anyone, human or elf, an eyeful of Ron Weasley. No, that benefit was reserved for the witch sleeping in their bed.

He padded out the door and across the landing to the Loo. He didn't hear anything upstairs on the next floor where Harry slept. He knew that Ginny was still at home at night which was a complete relief. He didn't want to beat up his best mate for having ill intentions with his sister.

Ron turned on the faucets of the shower and relished the hot water pouring out of the heads. Hot water was a precious commodity growing up in the family. But living in Grimmauld Place with Harry and Hermione, he had all the hot water he needed or wanted.

Ron dropped the housecoat and stepped into the steam. He wanted some time to think. He had a witch with a problem and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

He doused his head under the water and let the rivulets run down his long nose and even longer hair. He hadn't cut it yet and hadn't asked anyone to trim it up either. Hermione didn't mind in the least. She said she loved his hair whatever length he wore it.

The length of his hair wasn't his problem. His problem was that he couldn't make her come, at least on purpose.

He wasn't a git, not in the least, and he's worked at learning her once he realized that he was being a selfish prat, focused only on his own pleasure rather than hers. He knew that they were both hurting those first couple of weeks of shagging, but he'd only noticed the problem a few weeks ago while they were in Australia.

Her parents had left for the morning on errands and they had run of the house. Of course Hermione mentioned a shower and he was only too eager to go along with it. He didn't necessarily want to shag her in the shower. No, that was her idea. She said it was something she'd thought about those cold months when they were on the run. "What I wanted was a hot shower, and an even hotter you."

How could he refuse the barmy witch her request? He promised himself that if she wanted a leg over with him, he'd always comply. They missed way too many opportunities for long enough that he'd missed out on so much with her that anything else was an opportunity.

But it was what happened that morning in the shower that confused the fuck outta him.

She was moaning inside the shower while he kissed her along her neck, using his fingers to make her squirm. He'd tried to make her come using his fingers but nothing was doing the trick. Sure, they shagged often. She was enthusiastic when he was on top, grabbing his arse and digging furrows down his back. She was energetic when she rode him like a professional.

But what he wanted above all else was her moans in his ears and on his skin. He knew from eavesdropping from his brothers that women were content if he could just get them off. After the first few times, they'd be pudding in their hands and sopping wet on his wand, whichever way he used it.

But the last 2 months were giving him anxiety because she'd not screamed his name. He'd done everything he could that Hermione allowed and he just wasn't getting anywhere.

He was at a stalemate 'til last week in the shower.

He was nibbling on her neck and had his fingers knuckle deep and she slipped. He reacted without thinking and bit down on her neck and she'd slipped further onto his hand. She moaned and started grinding on his hand. No sooner had he gently bit her ear that she was keening his name under the cooling water.

When he pulled his hand free she looked drunk. That was the look that Charlie had mentioned one time while talking with Bill.

Too bad he couldn't repeat that for her the last three times. That was what fucked up his head.

Ron picked up the flannel and the bar of soap from the dish and went to scrubbing from head to toe and all the other bits in between. He could tug on his tadger right now so when he went to wake her up, he'd not be gagging to bury himself in her within seconds.

Ron finished washing his body and went to work on his wand, thinking of his girlfriend across the landing and imagining her moaning in bliss. He groaned and felt much better.

He turned off the faucets and grabbed the towel from the rack next to the curtains.

A soft hand touched his fingers when he grasped the towel.

He yanked the curtain open to find Hermione standing in her housecoat and a smile on her face.

"I was hoping to catch you before you finished in there."

Ron stepped out, dripping wet, and pulled her close. "Sorry Love, but I was trying to let you sleep. You've been worn out since we got back."

She looked at his pensive face and shook her head. "Something's bothering you, isn't it?"

Ron kissed her again and tried to hide the befuddlement on his face. "Why'd you think that?"

"Cause you'd not get up at half six for a shower unless something's on your mind."

Hermione caught the words knows me too well under his breath. "I do which is why I'm asking."

Ron sat on the toilet lid and looked up at her. "You really wanna know?" She nodded bashfully. "I realized this morning that I'm shite when it comes to making love to you."

He watched her assume her fighting stance: crossing her arms and standing a little wider. "And where did you get that idea?"

"I can't make you come. Last week was nothing but an accident and I have no fucking clue what I did to get you off."

Hermione pulled his hands from his knees and laid them on her chest. He felt her body instantly react to his touch. "So you think because you can't finish me off means you're a terrible lover?"

"Well, yeah."

She pinched her nose at his strange thoughts. "Please tell me this isn't because you listened to Seamus too often and all the crap he talked about."

"Wasn't Seamus," he muttered, "but it was Fred and Bill and Charlie."

Hermione shook her head again. "And you're comparing yourself to them when it comes to making love to me?"

Ron finally looked up and saw the irritation on her face. "When you say it that way, it does sound stupid."

Hermione stepped closer and opened her housecoat. All Ron saw was her beautiful skin and nothing else. "Why don't you ask the one person who can do something about it and stop comparing yourself to them?"

Ron put his hands back on Hermione's hips. She squirmed almost immediately.

"You like it when I touch you, don't you?"

She nodded and kept her eyes on him.

"What if I put them on your quim?"

Hermione never broke her gaze with her boyfriend but shifted so he could do what he was suggesting.

"Maybe that's what you need. Maybe you get off on me being slightly rough with you. Is that it? Or is it me talking dirty to you? Tell me what you need to scream my name."

Hermione pulled one hand to her chest and let him start manipulating the flesh there. She kept watching him while she sat astride his lap. Her silence was disconcerting but he pressed on, using his fingers and lips on her.

"Please, tell me. I want you to feel what I feel when we're shagging. I want you enjoying fucking like I do."

Hermione bent her neck to one side and Ron started kissing her neck. "Harder," she whispered into the air. He did as she asked, continuing to pleasure her with his fingers. "More," she begged him again. "Ron, please," she begged further.

Ron latched onto the side of her neck and started sucking. He felt her breath catch and her body freeze. Moments passed and she quivered violently on his lap, along with a groan which wouldn't wake a mouse.

He let go of her neck and looked down at her face. It was lax and covered in sweat. She shook slightly in his arms. "More?' he asked quietly. She nodded in affirmation. He pushed her back off his lap until she was standing and he motioned her recline on the rug. She did while looking at him. "Close your eyes," he whispered into her lips.

Ron kissed her again before shifting his body over hers. Irregular breaths under his lips told him that she was still high off his ministrations. But he wanted more, wanted to learn what made her gasp, and moan, and scream his name. He'd make her come if he had frozen toes and a chubby that hurt for days.

He wanted Hermione to experience the pleasure he felt every time he sank into her warm embrace.

He kissed between her tits and then sucked on her nips. She writhed under his loving attention and felt her squirming under his lanky frame. Between sucking, he'd moved his hands up and fondled her breasts, worrying the nipples back to a hard point.

She was gasping, but nothing like he wanted from his lover. "Show me what you want me to do," he whispered into the valley between her breasts.

He removed his hands from her breasts, leaving one last hard pull before working his body down hers, settling at the apex of her thighs. The smell was heady, earthen, and musky and it was fantastic. His siffie could wait. Revolting images helped tamp down his ardour for her.

Ron pulled Hermione's hips closer and used his shoulders to open her willing body to his gaze. He fought down the temptation to just sink into her completely, bury himself and never come back out. But this morning wasn't about him. This was about putting his nose into his learning and making her scream so loud she woke the neighborhood.

He dove into her intimate flesh, letting his fingers work in unison with his lips and tongue. He felt her hands thread into his hair and start running her short nails on his scalp. Moans and shifting hips were the challenge.

Ron pulled her legs onto his shoulders, anchoring them onto him, while he snaked one hand up her body to her chest, twisting and pulling her erect nipples. She groaned so loud but she wasn't moaning like he wanted. 'Sod it,' he thought before taking a long swipe up her body.

She quivered. "So close," she whined from above his head. "Please, Ron!"

He peeled open her flesh and saw her clit begging for attention. He licked again and she arched her back. He licked again and she arched even higher. But he heard her begging him and how could he refuse her?

He sucked on her flesh, pulling her bundle of nerves between his lips and tentatively used his teeth on her. She moaned. He pulled her between his lips harder and started sucking. Her breath hitched and caught. He plunged two fingers into her and turned his head and bit into the meaty flesh of her thigh.

Fuck!

'Oh shite, Hermione said Fuck!' Ron held on for dear life while she shook violently in his arms. "Bloody hell," he muttered before sucking her thigh again.

Her litany of epithets was music to his ears. But he wasn't done with the wicked witch in his arms. He looked and saw that there was a wide bitemark, with plenty of red there too. It'd bruise if he didn't heal it once they were done.

While she lay panting on the floor of the loo, he continued to tease her flesh and rub his calloused fingers up and down her lips, watching her twitch like playing with his Deluminator. He kept at her, teasing her flesh, until she opened her eyes and looked up at his dark blue ones. Willing arms called him to her.

Ron lifted her hips and wrapped her ankles around his neck before plunging into her very hot body. "Oh fuck that's fantastic." He ground his hips into hers and felt her flutter. "Bounce those tits for me."

Hermione purred in mutual approval. Now that she made a mess of him, he wasn't going to be gentle, or tender, or even considerate. After everything he did for her, it was his turn and he was going to enjoy fucking her. He took long strokes, fast and hard, and watched her breath hitch almost immediately. He thrust a thumb on her bundle of nerves and she clamped down on him while wailing in the loo.

"That's it, witch. Look at me while I fuck you." Hermione opened her eyes. "You're mine and Weasley is your King."

She smiled up at him as he was pounding into her. He watched her put her hands on her chest and played with them. He growled and lost his rhythm immediately. He thumbed her again and she clamped down again. "Fuckin' fantastic."

The band in his bollocks was tightening and he had only a few good strokes left. He shifted his knees wider and used his hands on her hips and thrust as deep as he could. He felt her again and moved his hand, shoving a thumb onto her once more. She clamped down on him when the band popped. He growled and shook hard, trying to hold her hips up while he poured himself out.

Days and seconds passed and Ron opened his eyes. He lowered Hermione's hips to the ground and fall on his rather boney arse. He looked but heard a sniff first.

"Oh fuck, shite, bloody hell," he scooted up to Hermione. She was weeping. "Oh fuck me. What have I done? I hurt you this morning." The crass imprecations in his head rattled in his ears for hurting her while they shagged.

Ron pulled her up into his arms and felt the tears on his chest. He muttered soft words of comfort and rubbed his hands along her thin back. "Say something, anything, please!"

He pulled her back from his bare chest and saw that she was still weeping but she had the brightest smile on her face. "So that's what they were talking about," she whispered back.

"Bloody fuck! You scared me. Did I hurt you?"

Hermione snaked her arms around Ron and hugged him as tight as she could. "I'd read about a woman having an orgasm so strong but feeling it? That was amazing." She released him some and looked up at him with an award smile on her face. "Only you," she said quietly before kissing his lips.

"That's still barmy as hell that I have to be that rough with you."

She ran her fingernails over his scalp. "I've had those fantasies before but experiencing it was something else. It might be because of the torture since you said the healers said that there was some permanent damage from that night."

"Yeah," he blushed. "But I don't want to hurt you while we shag. You were crying." He kissed her gently. "Fuck, I wanna make love to you, not treat you like a one knut whore."

Hermione's smile faded. "Did I tell you not to do anything you did?" Ron shook his head. "Did I complain once about anything you've done with me so far?" He shook his head again. "If there's anything strange you want to try, we'll talk about it first. But otherwise, I love you and I trust you, especially with my body."

Hermione sat up on Ron's lap and pierced his heart with a look. "I'll tell you if I don't want to do something. Do you understand that?" Ron nodded quickly. "But what happened today? You didn't hurt me. Today was the first time I truly felt what you feel."

"But you were crying after we finished."

She kissed him gently. "Those weren't tears of pain. Those were tears of love. I love when we make love, but today was the first time that," Hermione paused in her thoughts, "the first time that I felt like I could just let go and not think and feel what you were doing to me. I loved it."

"But I was so rough with you. You've probably got bruises on you from shagging."

"So?"

Ron stared at her. "You're kidding."

Hermione shook her head. "No, I'm not." She ran her hands along the inside of her thigh and felt the dimpling from where she would have a bruise. Then she put her hand on her neck and felt the one under the knife wound, right at the base of her clavicle. "I think I'll keep them." She winked at him. "I actually like the thought of you marking me like this."

"Oh fuck." He felt his erection starting again just from her saucy comments.

She went to stand up and was slightly wobbly on her feet. "I'll cover them before we go to your parent's house tomorrow night but you'll know they are there. You'll know you marked me well."

Hermione bent over and gave Ron a flash of her arse. He pulled her back to him and sucked on her cheek, leaving a third. He let her go with another red mark on her bum.

"Well, it was the one place I'd not sucked today, I reckon."

"Now you're just being cheeky." Hermione found his housecoat and threw it at him.

"And you're being shirty."

Hermione opened the door and felt the chill of the landing pebble her skin. "So what else is new?"

She left Ron sitting on the floor of the loo with his housecoat covering his bits.