Fourth base: going all the way; touchdown.
It was past midnight when she had heard him descending, his footsteps louder and louder with each story. She had ceased her packing and gone out to see what was wrong. By the look of him, chin down and hands in his pocket, she knew something was definitely bothering him. Ginny casually leaned back on her bedroom door and asked him what was on his mind. He clenched his knuckles harder inside his pockets and made up some cock and bull about seeing if she needed any help. Of course he wouldn't just speak his mind, he was Harry bloody Potter and his mission in life was to hide every meager moment of weakness. So she'd roll her eyes and bluntly point out that something was troubling him. Thus, they agreed to just talk and she guided him into her room, amidst the disaster sprawled everywhere.
"Finished packing?" he joked, taking in the sight. The floor seemed to be boobytrapped with her school books, while the bed was clustered with robes and every article of clothing she owned.
"Haha," she scoffed, tossing her clothes and robes unceremoniously on the floor in one go.
Ginny sat on the bed and patted the spot next to her as if to signal that she was expecting him to sit down and start talking. So he did and wanted to say something, but he noticed the way the oil lamp in the corner created dancing shadows in her chocolate brown eyes. That blazing look in her face rendered him speechless, made him completely forget. It was as though the hard feeling clutching at his heart had been channeled into her through the lithe touch of their thighs. He realised he had been longing to see her and she wasn't even gone yet. He had been desperate to hold her, even though only hours had passed since their last embrace. He had been afraid of the loneliness that he would have to suffer over the long months of separation.
She understood everything, read his thoughts. She shared his misery, his fears, his heartache. Lifting one finger, she pressed it gently to his lips and he lightly kissed its tip in response. Ginny leaned forward and hungrily glued her mouth to his, determined to prolong the moment of goodbye as much as possible. Through the kiss, he caressed her cheeks, her hair, the creamy skin of her neck. She bit his lip with urgency and he eagerly obliged, opening his mouth to meet her tongue with his. They would never feel tired of this dance they were doing, never weary of traveling the lengths of their bodies until they lay naked, completely exposed to each other.
He lifted her shirt and left a trail of kisses on her abdomen, threw the garment on the floor and unclasped her bra. She took it off and arched her back, allowing him press his lips in a stream, from her collar bone down to her chest, to take one nipple tenderly between his teeth and then the other. She grabbed a fistful of raven locks, pulling his head closer to her as his fingers found their way down her trousers and inside her knickers. Ginny brought his mouth to her to stifle the moan threatening to escape her lips at the feel of his index finger inside.
Harry gently pushed her on her back and took off his own black shirt, along with his glasses. Bending over her, he marked her body with open-mouthed kisses. He removed both her bottoms and underwear and she shivered under his gaze. The prey animal was back and he was wild. Wild with lust as he took her in, a delicate, yet powerful young woman with long, flaming red hair, framing her petite figure. He lifted one of her slender legs and kissed the back of her thigh, descending in his path until he reached a mess of ginger curls. She had the sweetest taste, she was his ambrosia. She made him feel immortal.
She moaned when he kissed her there and it was maybe this which made her finally decide. Brusquely, Ginny sat up, startling him. Not bothering to explain, she reached for his belt and shoved his jeans down his legs. Harry watched her, dazed, not entirely comprehending what was about to happen. Ginny battling for control always had this effect on him.
In her haste to free him of his boxers, she nearly fell off the bed. They both stopped and looked at each other, breaking into laughter. Her clumsy gesture had shattered the trance they had been stuck in and cleared their heads of grogginess. They both understood what this was leading to and neither was afraid. They were nearly there and they would walk past it, together, always together.
"Nice move," he taunted her, his boxers slightly jerked off as to reveal a patch of dark hair and a V line hiding within.
"You do it, if you're so smart," she shot back, pouting.
He took two steps back and made a show of taking off the pair of black boxers. He held up his hands as if to say ta-da! and she giggled. The smile lit up her features and all of a sudden he was strongly aware of the twinkle in her eyes and the smirk on her lips, as her gaze lingered on his lower body. He needed her acutely, everything about her provoked him, goaded him until he could no longer stand it. It felt like they have undressed in each other's presence since the very beginning, their love as old as time.
So he climbed into bed, one knee between her legs, and claimed her lips. One hand supporting him above her and the other caressing her breasts, lightly squeezing them, stroking parts of her body over and over again. She panted as their kiss deepened and encircled his neck with her freckled arms. He moved to kiss along her jaw and brushed one finger over her cherry lips; she lightly suckled on it, flicking her tongue twice over the trodden skin. The sensation made Harry's insides boil and he painted a wet trail with it, from her jaw, between her breasts, down her flat abdomen and arriving at her warm entrance. Ginny closed her eyes and murmured his name, feeling the wet tip of his finger inside her, pleasuring her, twisting the small bundle of nerves until her body was on fire.
She wrapped her legs round his torso and he removed his finger. His sex was touching hers and the softness of her flesh made him almost delirious. She lifted her upper body to capture his lips, instilling a sense of determination into him. The young man laced his fingers with her dainty ones and pushed gently at her folds. His tip parted her and it was so good, so blissfully good that he thought he might come undone. Ginny whimpered and bit her lip hard to silence herself. She dug her nails into his back and her thighs tightened their hold on his torso. She was ready and she could get through this.
Their first motion was awkward and rash. Leaning on his elbows, he twice caught her hair underneath. She writhed beneath him, unwittingly drawing him in just a little bit deeper, leaving him breathless. He was all readiness and excitement and no stamina. He wanted her impetuously, desired her, he needed her right then.
She filled her lungs with air, and pressed a cheek to his. They sat like that for moments, breathing, just breathing. When he started moving again, she gripped his hand harder. He brought their clasped hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles dearly, tenderly. If only he could save tonight. If only. He lifted his eyes to the window, towards the start-struck sky and the ghost of an idea cut through the fog in his mind. He'd once told her that the freckles on her body were like millions of stars, strewn across her skin in constellations. He'd told her that if the stars hid all over her body, then the sun hung in her hair. He'd told her she was his universe and she blushed and laughed at his sappiness.
His moves were rough, somewhat irregular, pleasure and pain shooting through her with each thrust. He glided deeper within her and their mouths crashed onto each other, a folly of teeth and lips and tongues. He pushed harder and she entwined their fingers once again. His left hand sneaked up, kneading her breast with a hungriness that made her toes curl. He worshipped her, feeling the curves of her body under his calluses. Oh, how he worshipped her, his fiery girl with hair like the setting sun. Her sweet mouth slightly open, her white teeth revealed, savagely biting her lips in ecstasy until they were crimson and swollen. Her round breasts bounced against his chest, her nipple grazing his skin. It was primitive, profane, like a ritual taking over both of them. He searched for a rhythm, he needed control. Two hard thrusts, one soft. Repeating it, he watched as they were wrapped together, their beings melting into one. Weaving and unweaving. In and then out. Creating magic together. He wanted it to last forever, to be forever drifting in this moment of passion, forgotten in this life changing embrace.
But his body betrayed his mind, working against his wishes and his pelvis slammed harder against hers. Harder, and faster, and stronger, skin bruising skin. Fuck, he thought and buried his head into the crook of her neck. He was no longer in control, they were no longer in control. Adrenaline rushed through their veins, clouding their eyes, their minds. He felt a fire burn inside him, his groans growing louder. Her skin was flushed, her hair a tangled mess. She moaned his name over and over and it was this which made him finally let loose. His vision blurred, Harry felt wonderfully high. A buzz went through the tips of his fingers. It was electrifying.
Diving back from that sweet height, he propped himself on his elbows and looked down at the redheaded girl smiling brightly at him. He brushed the stray lock from her face and pressed his forehead to hers. He tried to find a name for the raw emotion he was feeling, for it made his heart beat madly and butterflies spin inside his stomach. Tipsily, he wondered if the word he was searching for was magic, because nothing else could leave him as intoxicated, as giddy as he was right then.
"I love you," Ginny whispered in his ear.
Of course, he realised. Love. A magic more powerful and ancient than all. A wide smile was plastered all over his face and he seized her lips again and again, consuming them, pouring all the love he felt into his kisses. He guided her warm palm to the place where she could feel his heartbeat.
"Can you feel this? It beats for you. You're one in a million," he softly told her.
Tears formed at the creases of her eyes and she bat her lashes fast to banish them. She feared that, should she allow herself to cry, she might burst from all the emotions colliding inside her. She loved him, she needed him, she adored him, she wanted to always protect him. She would gladly rip her heart out and offer it to him. For the first time in her life, she found that she was lost for words. So she simply held on to him, even after his head fell into the pillow, beside her. They were drunk from such love, forgetting the world around them. For Harry and Ginny, only the two of them existed that night.