Shamelessly
Chapter 8
Making Love
A/N: I'm not sure if this is going to be the last chapter. It most likely is, since I've gotten worse and worse about updating this story. I'm sorry it's taken me so long, but thanks for all the great reviews and support I've gotten from you guys. I hope my smut chapter measures up to the emotional foreplay. Cheers!
Making Love
Hermione made it to the water first. Well, she would have made it to the water first if Charlie had grabbed her just as her feet touched the water, lifted her off the ground, and carried her into the calm surf. She let out a small giggle, surprised by the hard body behind her, and then relaxed into it, finally allowed herself to feel Charlie, truly feel him after, after all the weeks they had spent teasing and tormenting each other into near sexual breaking point.
Charlie could feel her meld against him, and his body held her tighter. Hermione mewled; she loved the feeling of his masculinity tight around the softness of her own curves. She was a woman, made of curves in all the places that the tabloids disliked. But from the feel of Charlie behind her he liked them very much.
"Mione," he whispered in her ear and she shuddered as he lowered her to the ground.
"Yes, Charlie?" She responded, hoping her voice didn't waver too much, hoping he didn't see how obviously he affected her.
"I'm going to kiss you now," he began, "and there's a good chance that I won't stop."
"That sounds about perfect," she replied, turning around to look at Charlie. In the moonlight, and the beautiful reflection of the moon that rippled in the water, he looked like the most beautiful kind of god. He was toned and light, and while she had known what the top of his sculpted body had looked like, due to their impossible games, to look at it in this new light, where she was free to do whatever she wanted under the blanket of Italian stars, the only word that Hermione could think to use was beautiful.
She let her fingers graze his chest and Charlie shuddered, his hands, large and calloused, wrapped around her waist and pulled her close, and the two sighed in deep content when the hardness of him brushed against the softness of her. Charlie lifted her chin and smiled, then leaned into her, brushing his lips against hers.
They were lost after that, a furious passion of hands and lips, roaming, exploring, desperate, as if denied for too long, they had been, after all, denied for too long. Hermione's arms tangled themselves around Charlie's neck, running wild through his hair. He lifted her up off the ground, and for a moment she was amazed at his incredible strength. Their lips never left each other as she wrapped her legs around his waist, desperate for the feel of his hardness within her.
Charlie was desperate too and brought her back to the edge of the surf where he lowered them both to the ground, placing Hermione on the wet sand, where the light waves trickled up.
He paused for a moment, looking at her in the moonlight and a smile broke out across his face.
"What?" Hermione asked, breathlessly. Charlie caught her lips again and pulled back once more.
"You're a goddess," he murmured, "The most beautiful woman I have ever seen." With that he lowered himself back down on top of her, kissing, first, her lips, then moving down to her neck, where the sinfully slow movement of his mouth drew whimpers of pleasure from Hermione. She could almost feel him smirk against her skin, and would have made comment to it, had she not been so incredibly absorbed in the movement of his mouth across her body.
From her neck he moved down, peppering small kisses across her shoulders, her chest, down through the valley of her breasts that heaved with each shuddering breath she pulled. He circled each nipple with his mouth, and Hermione moved beneath him, desperate for the contact he was denying her. Charlie only smiled. They had been dancing around this mutual frustration for so incredibly long, teasing one another to the bring of absolutely insanity in a deep and impenetrable concentration of lust. He knew she could wait a moment longer.
Finally, finally, Charlie bent down and took her nipple in his mouth and sucked lightly. Hermione bucked against him, her breathing ragged and harsh, and it felt as if her body were on fire. He slid around her skin and did the same to the other nipple, all the while cupping her other breast in his calloused hands.
Just when she thought she could handle no more Charlie began to kiss below her breasts, down the skin of her stomach, placing his lips on her hips, on the outside of her thighs. Her parted her legs gently and Hermione forgot how to breath as he bent his head down, kissing the inside of her legs, all the way up, from her knee to her hip, then down the other side. She was practically weeping with want at his ministrations. Finally Charlie bent down and blew lightly at the apex of her thighs.
"Charlie," she whimpered, "Please?" He leaned in, the feeling of his tongue against her was surely the feeling of Heaven. He blew lightly and caught her clit between his teeth, his mouth so gentle and so passionate that soon Hermione felt herself grasping at the sand beside her, her chest heaving, her body aflame and she exploded, fireworks behind her eyelids, the stars of the night sky twinkling brilliantly before her as great, incredible, indescribable waves of pleasure washed over her body and shook her from head to toe. She had been ranting Charlie's name for a full minute before she came down from her high.
She looked up at him dreamily.
"What?" She asked, after a moment.
"You're beautiful," he said quietly. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck again and pulled him into another kiss.
"I want you," she said, "All of you." She looked in the eye. "And I want it now." Charlie raised a brow a smiled.
"Boss little swot, you are," he replied, but kissed her again, spreading her legs with his knee. He slid one finger inside of her, all the while never breaking their kiss, and Hermione shuddered at the feeling.
"Charlie," she moaned into his lips, "I want you inside of me," he couldn't deny her that, so he positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock nudging against her.
"You ready," he asked her, though he didn't need to. Their bodies and minds were moving as one, already anticipating the other's next step, like a beautifully erotic game of chess.
She nodded and he slowly slid himself into her until he was fully inside. They both sighed in beautiful contentment and he gave her a moment to adjust to his size.
"Charlie," she told him, breaking their kiss and he nodded.
"Can you move, please? Move?" He needed no other encouragement and he began to thrust his hip against her, and she moved back against him, meeting him measure for measure. It was a delicious point of motion, where each rise of her body fell into perfect harmony with the hull of his. They each reveled in the feeling of one another's body's, Charlie in the tightness of his lover, Hermione in the fullness of Charlie, in her, on her, kissing her as though they were never meant to be apart. Perhaps they weren't.
They both felt the onslaught of their climax, first in the tingling of toes, the gripping of hair. Hermione ran her fingernails across Charlie's back, perhaps a little too deeply, and he lost all semblance of control, thrusting fully into her, like a madman. She met him measure for measure and they rose around the top together, the very height of their wave meeting a passion neither had ever before felt and they touched the very top of the universe, the top of the sky, all the stars and every moon and a brilliant display of vibrant explosion beat through their minds and before their eyes and every color they had ever seen or known flashed deliciously, magnificently, before them in an indescribable peak of time and history.
The followed the crest of their wave and for some amount of time, though neither knew how long, their bodies quaked in the aftermath of the earthquake explosion of passion they had reached together.
Charlie finally rolled over, pulled Hermione tight in his arms and kissing the top of her head lightly. She molded into him, that perfect combination of soft and hard, and they both sighed, content.
Charlie nuzzled against her hair, aware that they were on a wet beach, that the sky told the time of late and that they would both be stiff and uncomfortable, should they fall asleep there.
"Hermione," Charlie whispered in her ear. He could practically hear her begin to fall asleep and knew they needed to get back up to his villa, and comfortable bed.
"Yes Charlie," she mumbled. He smiled into her hair.
"I'm never letting you go," he replied.
"Good," she said.
He cast a warming charm around them and conjured a blanket and pillow from their pile of disregarded clothes, placing them under their heads. They would be stiff in the morning, but what did matter? On this Italian beach or in the fields of England, they would have each other.
A/N: Oh that was sappy. Hope you've enjoyed their saga, maybe I'll write an eppy, we'll see. Love, Ruby
