A/N Happy Birthday DWP! She makes me write, even when I don't want to and for that I am grateful.

Sunday mornings were for lazing around as far as Harry was concerned. They were for long breakfasts and lounging in bed together. They'd made it out of bed and as usual, they were sat together at their small table in the kitchen in Grimmauld Place. Both Harry and Ginny felt the dining room too grand when they were alone. Instead preferring the cosy nook in the corner of the kitchen.

Harry had made pancakes and they sat in companionable silence eating their mid-morning breakfast. Harry was reading the Daily Prophet, he liked to keep an eye on their reporting although it had much improved since the war. His mind was just starting to wander when he felt Ginny's foot begin to stroke his.

He looked over the top of the paper, to see Ginny innocently grinning at him from across the table.

"Something up Potter?" She bit the edge of her lip gently, pulling the corner in between her teeth.

"There will be in a minute," Harry growled under his breath.

"Oh? And what might that be? Don't let me distract you from your paper now." Ginny laughed this time but he couldn't help notice she was a little breathless.

Harry pretended he wasn't looking as he felt his skin heat and a jolt travel downwards as the shoulder strap of Ginny's nightdress slipped down. Her pale, creamy skin exposed, the cut of the dress just hiding her nipples from him. Ginny still smiling sweetly began to trail her foot up his leg as he staunchly returned to the paper.

"Distracted yet?" Ginny asked as she began to stroke her foot along the inside of his thigh.

"I thought Sundays were for being lazy?"

"Round one on a Sunday is lazy Harry, but round two... round two is a little more energetic."

"Oh yeah? What exactly did you have in mind?"

Ginny used her foot to fondle his now growing erection and as she scrunched up her toes Harry groaned at the extra contact. She dragged her foot slowly down his length.

"I just thought we might not need to return to the bedroom," continuing to move her foot against the fabric of his trousers. The angle that she had to sit at to reach right across the table caused her nightie to strain a little across the front.

Harry let out a further groan when he realised that meant he could see her soft pink nipples erect against the thin fabric. This finally caused him to admit defeat and put the paper down.

"Better," Ginny's eye twinkled wickedly now.

Harry reached down under the table and massaged her calf with his hands.

"Get over here," he whispered huskily.

Ginny slipped from her chair, pulling her nightdress up and over her head in one fluid motion. She crossed the small space and as Harry pushed back with his chair she settled over his hips, pressing herself closer to him.

He moved his hands up her legs, caressing up her bum before he dragged them achingly up her spine. Harry could hear Ginny's breath hitch as he did so. He cupped a breast with one hand, his thumb stroking firmly over the raised peak as he suckled the other into his mouth.

He smiled into her skin as she gasped, arching away from him. He slid a hand around her back, supporting her as she ground her hips down onto him. Harry couldn't stop the groan that escaped him.

"Fuck, Gin," He lifted her hips slightly as he wriggled his trousers down, allowing himself to finally spring free. Ginny giggled at the movement and then her hands were on him immediately. She stroked both firmly up his full length. He kissed her, lips crushing against hers as they fought to maintain their balance on the seat.

Unable to wait any longer Harry lifted Ginny and settled her around himself. The sound he made was unintelligible as her soft folds welcomed him in. She paused a moment before lifting herself up his shaft, Harry bit back a gasp as she reached his tip and then sat back down.

Hard.

"Gin, do that again." Harry uttered a single "Fuck," as she did.

I'm done for he thought before his hands grabbed her arse and helped her set the pace. "I need you like this every Sunday," he muttered in between thrusts.

Ginny allowed him to raise her up and down, leaning forward and pressing kisses along his neck, her hair cascading in waves around him.

She kissed up his neck to his ear, before whispering "I want you to come."

Harry moved his hands again, unable to resist tweaking her nipple as he pulled her breast towards his face. As his tongue pressed against her roughly, Ginny let out a gasp. Her nipple pebbled under him and Harry smiled in satisfaction at the darkening pink colour as he released her.

Ginny arched her back, taking him deeper inside of her. "I said, come for me, Harry."

"Fuck, Ginny, say that again,"

Ginny leant forward, pressing her bare skin against his, "I said, come, Harry. Now."

Harry felt a roaring in his ears, heat flooding across his skin as he tipped over the edge and emptied himself into her, his thrusts erratic as he reached his climax. He leant back fully in the chair as Ginny peppered his face with soft kisses.

Harry took her face in his hands, kissing her tenderly; languid kisses that stretched across the morning. Eventually Ginny stood, allowing Harry to slip out of her and moved to pick up her silk nightgown from the floor.

"You don't need that," Harry pulled his trousers off completely and took Ginny's hand.

"We're going to shower together. I'll wash your hair for you and then afterwards I'm going to towel you down."

Ginny raised her eyebrows at him, "I'm listening."

Harry pulled her closer to him until she was flush with his body. "I'll dry you inch by inch…here," as he touched her breasts, "here…" as he trailed a finger down her stomach… "and here," as he knelt to kiss her hip bones.

"I'll be able to count your freckles, one at a time," Harry's voice was soft and low as his lips ghosted over her hipbone, travelling across to the other, in a series of roughly planted kisses.

"And when I'm done towelling you dry, "I'll kiss you here."

Harry used a finger to deftly part her, stroking inside of her once before moving away tugging a willing Ginny along with him.

Sundays didn't always have to be lazy.