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A/N-
Ok, guys, big warning- This chapter is RATED R!!!!!!! You were told last chapter this would be coming, but I wanted to make that absolutely clear before you read on. There is graphic sexual activity in this chapter, but it is my personal feeling that it is well within reason. I hope you enjoy. Perhaps more than any other chapter, I would really appreciate you reviewing and letting me know how you personally felt about this part. It really will affect how I pursue some of the later chapters, specifically if I write any more outtakes or not. I know, thanks to the wonderful Allison, that loads of you are reading this fic! Please send me a response, I'll take a one-liner! If nothing else, consider it a reward to me for posting this two days after the last chapter. Hehee. Hopefully that last little guilt trip will get the job done.
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Hermione wasn't breathing.
It wasn't as if she couldn't. Ron was no longer crushing her lips with his own; he had moved down to her neck. He was rubbing the delicate skin there with his teeth, then massaging it with his lips and tongue.
Her body was simply refusing to perform the usually automatic process. She was absolutely incapable of doing it herself.
All she could do was feel.
Feel the nip of his teeth against her shoulder.
Feel the slight rasp of his hair on his chin as he rubbed it frantically against her
Feel his hands, gliding up her body, then against her breasts, strong and firm as he caressed her.
Feel, oh god, him against her inner thigh, hot and hard and pulsing.
Somewhere, dimly, Hermione knew that this was..unusual.
But then, Ron surged forward, and the most intimate part of him, though restrained still by his pants, touched just where her body needed it most, though Hermione didn't recognize it until the instant in which it happened.
Control was gone. There was only she and Ron, in a tropical paradise, discovering the pleasures they could give each other. Although, at the moment, Ron was doing all the work.
Deciding to fix that, Hermione raised her hands and threaded her fingers through his hair. She coaxed his head up and back to her lips, then met his passion with equal fervor.
Something odd and unfamiliar was coiling in her center, a swirling of love and lust and an even more foreign feeling of recklessness. She unconsciously pushed back against him.
He groaned, a guttural sound that only seemed to excite her further. He seemed to lose another level of control, his movements against her become more and more desperate.
She wrapped her legs around him, as much to stop them from bumping each other un-rhythmically as to guide him closer to where she wanted him most.
She felt as if she might soar out of her own body if she didn't maintain a tight hold to him, so heavenly were the sensations careening through her.
And suddenly, he was there, oh and something was building inside her, raging to be freed. She couldn't help the whimper that escaped her mouth, followed soon after by her breathless plea for more.
Ron must have heard her, because the pace and strength of his movements increased.
His hands moved to her bottom, gripping it with his large hands and pulling her effortlessly up, and then against him.
Their respective moans mingled together.
Hermione's head was rolling from side to side, and she was dimly aware that she was muttering nonsensical words.
Ron could smell her. Her scent and feel, the unique flavor of Hermione overwhelmed him. At that moment, all he wanted was to bury himself inside her until he died, happily, from the sheer, overwhelming pleasure of it all.
He went over.
And he took her with him.
Still holding her up with his left hand, he moved his right between their bodies and pressed three fingers against her firmly. Despite the barrier of her clothing, he unerringly found the place that made her come apart in his arms.
Her cry was instinctual, primal in its tone.
She was undone.
Eventually, Hermione came back to herself, hazily aware that Ron's hands were attempting to pull down her pants. He was breathing harshly, teeth clenched and eyes wild.
She tried to protest, but her breath hadn't yet come back. She settled for pushing his hands away weakly.
Ron actually growled at her, and didn't stop.
For the first time, Hermione became a bit alarmed. She managed to croak out a "No," upon which Ron froze. He closed his eyes tight and went utterly still, before releasing a loud moan and burying his face in the crook of her neck.
She felt him shudder and gyrate against her several times, before uttering one more harsh sound and slowly stilling against her.
He started to sink down, and Hermione wrapped her arms around him, alarmed. Leaning against her, he whispered brokenly over and over again, "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, sorry."
Hermione murmured reassurances to him until his own mutterings ceased.
Tilting her head upward so she could see his face, the reason he had stopped was immediately evident.
Ron's eyes had rolled back in his head, and hives were forming on his skin. He had passed out.
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How was that?
And yes, Ron is under the influence of something. He'd normally be a much more considerate bloke.
