A/N This chapter revolves around the sense of sight and includes, gasp, Ron and Hermione arguing. Something unheard of... Well, this is not as simple as one could think. What if Ron is egging Hermione on purpose so he can enjoy the fight and what follows. Dear Ron, always the strategist. Cameo by Crookshanks.
Enjoy and please review. Oh, and I forgot to mention this before but disclaimer: none of the characters belong to me (I wish)...
Chapter 3: Seeing Red
Ron was looking at his wife. Hermione had a finger poked at his chest. Her hair was bushier than usual, a wild mass of frizz. Her eyebrows were tightly knit together and her brown eyes were shooting figurative daggers at him. She looked gorgeous and took his breath away.
He heard her accuse him of being inconsiderate. He saw her lips move, heard the sound escaping them but could only think of how beautiful and pink and soft-looking they were. How much he longed to kiss them now. But he had to be patient. Part of his strategy involved getting her a bit more wound up. He had found a good excuse to start it all when he had purposely left the toothpaste uncapped that morning. The only child of two dentists, Hermione was slightly peculiar about all oral hygiene products. Ron had learnt early on while living with her that not recapping the toothpaste tube drove her mad.
"Are you listening to me Ronald? How many times have I told you to recap the toothpaste? It otherwise gets dry."
She had called him by his full name. That was a good sign she was getting worked up just to where he wanted her. He had to get into this too, or at least pretend. He was definitely not annoyed with her, not in the least. He actually was quite turned on by her outburst of indignation, painfully so and was thankful she was too busy spewing reproaches at him to notice how tight his trousers had suddenly become.
"So, you're a witch, aren't you? Can't you use a charm to fix that?"
"Oh Ron! You are exasperating," she screamed in frustration.
Of course he was! How else could he get her in this state? Her cheeks were pink, the same way they would turn after especially good sex. Her chest was heaving. The top button of her blouse had come undone and he could see the round swell of her breasts rising and falling. He could see the edge of white lace on them. He loved her breasts encased in lace although he preferred them bare and with his hands or his mouth on them. If he played this right, he should be there very shortly.
She drew him back to the moment:
"Ronald, look at me when I am talking to you, not my breasts."
He must have stared just a little bit too long.
"They are definitely worth looking at," he retorted cheekily.
"Argh!" she said and threw her arms up in the air.
That made him grin openly. It was slightly funny to see Hermione frustrated for words. It was an extremely rare occurrence and he thought he was the only one who could cause it.
"Are you mocking me? It is absolutely not funny."
She was jabbing her finger at him again. This was the moment for the final attack. He caught her hand and crashed his mouth on hers. She first protested but when his tongue darted through her lips, she allowed him full entrance and responded with much enthusiasm, just as he had expected. The kiss was not gentle. It was rough and heated, and involved teeth.
He was still holding her right wrist and she struggled against him, desperately trying to free her captive hand, working herself in an even greater state of agitation. She was kissing him savagely, while pushing against him, making him take a few steps backward. He had eight inches and about four stones on her but she was overpowering him. He hit the wall with a harsh thud. He winced for a second thinking of the bruise he would have soon and mentally cursed his pale red-hair skin but she didn't even wink. Her eyes were open and wild, locked on him while her mouth was ravishing him. She used her free hand to tear at his shirt taking a few buttons out in the process. He let go of her other hand and she finished opening his shirt to expose his chest, running her palms all over it, scratching him lightly with her short nails.
He started undoing the buttons on her blouse. It was difficult for him to focus on the tiny mother of pearl buggers as she had her tongue all over his mouth and her hands all over his chest. She helped him, temporarily taking her hands off him, much to his chagrin, and did quick work of her blouse and skirt. She was only wearing the lacy bra that had teased him earlier from under her blouse and matching knickers that beautifully espoused her round bum.
He broke their kiss, needing some air, to peek at the beautiful vision in front of him. He could never grow tired of looking at her. She stood in front of him, wearing two measly pieces of lace, her body a magnificent map of curves and valleys. Her hair had reached phenomenal proportions, even for her, and her eyes had a unique spark to them. She looked gorgeous, fierce, and quite determined to have him.
"What?" she asked curtly.
"You're beautiful."
"Brilliant, now shut up and do something about it!"
She fisted her hands in his fiery hair, one of her favourite things to do, and went back to an intense and greedy kiss. While her hands worked feverishly on his belt and fly, his were reaching under her bra, possessively fondling her breasts. She had opened his trousers and was pushing them down his legs, unveiling the throbbing sign of his desire. She moved her hands down and seized him in a not so gentle way, stroking mercilessly, while keeping her eyes on his, as if challenging him. He lost any restraint he had left. He reached for her knickers and slid them down. He lifted her beautiful naked behind as she wrapped her legs around him. He turned around, put her against the wall to help support her, and just unceremoniously thrust into her. He heard her gasp of surprise but it was soon replaced by a feral moan as she started pumping her hips, answering each of his thrusts with the same ardour she had used to kiss him. Her breasts had spilled out of her lacy bra (it had become quite askew a few minutes before) and he enjoyed their bobbing against his chest. He felt her hair tickle his shoulders and her nails dig in his back. And he saw it on her face. Her pupils had dilated, her mouth was open and slightly contorted. He kept looking as she climaxed very hard. This was his undoing. He could not hold anymore and just exploded in her.
They both slid down, their legs weakened. As his breath came back to him, Ron mentally congratulated himself for another good bout of strategy. It had been fairly simple, really, but the payoff had been fantastic. He enjoyed sex with Hermione tremendously and not just because he was a healthy man of twenty-five and she was a desirable woman unafraid of taking the lead. The passion was always there along with the deep unwavering love. He also enjoyed fighting with her. Arguing had always been part of their relationship and as it had evolved, the bickering had actually become a very enjoyable form of foreplay. He had just figured out that he could provoke the rows just to have what ensued. He was just running out of excuses to get her started.
Hermione was sitting like a lump against Ron's chest, listening intently to his heart finally returning to a normal rhythm. It was always a very comfortable place. She was thankful to Ron. Her day had been a stressful one and she had needed the outlet. She thought Ron was getting slightly too noticeable with his attempts at getting her in a snit. Not recapping the toothpaste tube? While that was a new one, it was a bit too obvious. She gave him credit though as he had still managed to work her in quite a state. He could always do that, in bad ways and excellent ones. Maybe it was her turn to play him and give her beloved husband a bit of respite. She had had her petty revenge for the toothpaste incident earlier that morning. Could she have something else? She thought hard, which even for her brilliant brain was quite a feast after what she had just experienced. And then it came to her.
Later that evening, as she was lying in bed waiting for him to join her, she saw him looking everywhere.
"Love, have you seen my Cannons shirt, you know the one that I bought last month?"
"Oh! Actually, Crookshanks found it and sort of ripped it to pieces," she replied in all innocence.
She saw the top of his ears redden.
"How did that bloody thing you call a cat get into my shirt?" he asked between clenched teeth. He still had not taken kindly to Crookshanks after all these years.
"I might have accidentally left the shirt out this morning when I found the tube of toothpaste open."
"Why would you do this to me Hermione?" he asked her in an irate tone.
"Because you did not recap the toothpaste," she repeated stubbornly.
He was getting really annoyed with her. She had never told him, but she found him quite a handsome vision when he was angry. There was a dangerous air to him that made her shiver. As Ron advanced to the bed with his finger pointing at her accusingly, Hermione thought this was brilliant and that she was very ready for another round of fight and sex. She could always tell him later that she had put the shirt back to its original shape effortlessly. She was a witch after all, wasn't she? For now, she had better things to attend to.
