I do not own Harry Potter. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, alas.

AN: Hmm...second half of the date, first lemon. Like it? Hate it? I'm uncertain, but I wanted some hot Ron action, LOL. Writing that stuff in first person is kinda strange.

The rest of dinner went very smoothly. I was able to eat everything that was put in front of me and anything I couldn't finish, Ron gladly polished off. When he took my hand to lead me home he was smiling contentedly and I was so full I was surprised I could even move. I grinned up at him. A lock of his hair had fallen out of place and was hanging lopsided in his eyes and I reached up and brushed it away.

"Thank you, Ron," I whispered. "That was just what the healer ordered."

His smile softened and he leaned over and kissed my lips gently. "It's my pleasure," he murmured, drawing away from me some before leaning in again, this time wrapping his arms about me. I let him kiss me there, in the stairwell of the restaurant. Inevitably, it deepened and I managed to put both hands against his chest and push him away slightly.

"Ron…"

"Hermione," he replied, eyes a deep blue. My breath caught and I lowered my own from his face.

"You should take me home now," I murmured, tugging on his robe some. He sighed and turned about, keeping one arm around my shoulders.

"Alright. No custard?"

"No," I said as he walked me out to the nods and bows of multiple elves. He'd been thoughtful enough to insist on at least leaving the elves a hefty tip, if they were going to insist on not charging us for the meal. "We had dessert already, remember? And it was very romantic," I added. He straightened up a bit at that.

"It was," he said quietly. "Very." His words held meaning.

Dessert had been strawberries served with chocolate mousse topped with crushed, crystallized ginger. It had been an interesting and unexpected combination. The silkiness of the mousse combined with the shape of the strawberries and the fire of the ginger left our lips pursed and plumped and our mouths watering. I think if I hadn't kept my hands firmly in my lap as Ron had fed me my portion I might have leapt across the table and down his throat myself. As it was he'd had a hard time not letting his hands wander about my thighs as I'd fed him his.

Not that I'd minded, entirely.

Not that his hands weren't wandering a bit, now, as he kissed me good night just inside my flat. One of his hands found the row of buttons at the front of my robes and I felt his fingers dip inside the neckline as he slowly undid a few.

"Ron," I gasped, pulling away, only to have his lips trail from my mouth to my jaw line where they began to do very interesting things to my earlobe. I gasped again. It had been quite sometime since he'd done that. He rumbled a response at me, but I didn't catch it as my eyes were rolling back at the sensations he was drawing forth. My skin felt like it was suddenly on fire beneath my flimsy robes.

I decided that we were both wearing entirely too many clothes and pushed his robe from his shoulders. HE smirked at me- smirked- and let go of me long enough to let it fall. He even let me pull his sweater over his head, leaving just his button down and slacks on. He stopped my hands at his belt, however, and shook his head at me before taking my lobe in his teeth and nibbling. Logic went to hang itself.

How Ron always managed to do this to me, to make me forget all rational thought- thoughts like, we shouldn't move too quickly and I'm a terrible girlfriend, look at what happened the last time I got mad- I'd never know. Except I must have been thinking them aloud, anyway, because Ron finally lifted his head from where he was doing naughty, naughty things to my neck and looked me straight in the eyes.

"Hermione, love," he said, his voice thick with lust, "right now I don't care who you shag when you get angry at me. As long as it's me you come back to. I imagine it'll matter in the morning, but right now I want you to turn off that lovely, delectable brain of yours."

And then he kissed me again and I did turn it off. Well, whether it was me or him that did the turning, I don't recall that either.

Ron lifted me bodily and pulled my legs up about his waist before putting his hands under my ass and walking back to my bedroom, carrying me the entire way. I was in a complete state, particularly when he set me on my feet again and proceeded to undo more of those damned buttons. Why had I worn that robe, again? Ah, yes, I thought buttons were sexy. But they were taking far too long to- oh.

Apparently Ron thought they were sexy as well. Go figure. I looked down to find his face buried in my breasts, his tongue dipping into the valley created by fancy bra I'd worn. Well, I wasn't exactly under-endowed, either, but good lingerie always helps. He pulled back and swirled his tongue about a button before looking up at me.

"Where the hell do you buy your clothes, 'Mione?" he rasped out with what appeared to be the last of his cohesive thought. He reached for his wand, his eyes still on me, and drew the tip of it slowly down the remaining buttons in the row. They all slipped their holes in a fluid motion and I gasped as the cool air hit my feverish skin, only to be replaced by Ron's hands, everywhere he could reach.

My eyes on his flaming red hair, still slicked back so suavely, I slipped the arms of the garment from my shoulders and let it fall entirely, then stepped away from it. I shook my hair out and heard his sharp intake of breath. He got to his feet and came towards me slowly. I glanced up at him shyly, feeling the flush of my skin burning its way across my cheeks. The room was bright with moonlight and I could see every inch of his face, softly glowing.

"Garter belt's new," he said huskily, his eyes not leaving my face though his hands were wandering.

"Nonsense," I managed to say. "You just didn't notice it at the wedding."

He grinned then, and the boyish look upon his face in this most intimate of moments made my heart race in a way that it hadn't for a very long time. "I noticed you weren't wearing underwear then," he replied, tugging at the top of my lacy, hip hugging shorts.

"I don't have to be wearing any now," I murmured and felt him dip his fingers lower, eliciting another gasp from my lips.

"They can stay," he said. "For now." Then he captured my lips again while his fingers pinched and dipped and pressed into places they hadn't been in a while. Places he hadn't been able to give adequate attention to, the last time we'd been together. Not that it had made a difference to me then- Ron had never failed to get me off. He'd always been nothing but kind and solicitous and more than generous with his time when it came to our sex life…which I supposed we had again, now.

That was what having him pressing me down onto the bed meant, right? Or when he slowly- torturously slow, really- unclasped my belt and slid my stockings down my legs, one by one…then kissed his way up each leg from the toes all the way to my very, very hot, wet center, where his tongue had stroked my folds with a precision I adored.

His shirt had come off at some point, along with his slacks, and he was kneeling between my legs, looking up my body at me. All broad shoulders and muscles and scars from his hard training. I'd had from Ginny that Harry had a few scars to match Ron's and I knew that was his life now, the life of an Auror. But Merlin, I wanted it. He was brave and true and he deserved so much…he lifted a hand from one knee and leaned over me, pressing a finger to my lips.

"Love, you're doing it again," he whispered. "Getting that look in your eyes. I want you, Hermione. Merlin, I want you-" and he took one of my hands and pressed it to the bulge in his underpants to prove it. I squirmed and bit my lip as my fingers ghosted over it. I'd be an idiot to say I didn't want him in return. All he had to do was feel my soaked knickers to know the truth.

"I want you," I replied softly, so softly he had to lean closer to hear me, covering my body with his. He was long and all hard muscle and his heat blanketed me. My eyes closed involuntarily from the pleasure of feeling him stretched out over me that way after so long.

"Then show me, Hermione," he moaned. "I don't know how to convince you of my choice, my feelings, but to do this to you all night, every night, until you get it through that stubborn, know it all head of yours that you're the only girl for me-"

It was the insult that did it. I spread my legs beneath him, wrapped them about his waist and pressed up with my hips. All that lay between us were our respective underpinnings. His of the cotton kind, mine of the silk and lace. He jerked back in surprise and was off guard enough in that moment for me to shove hard with my forearms and roll him over onto his back. Thank Merlin I'd never downgraded in bed size. Perhaps a part of me had always known that Ron and I would end up back on this bed together, making love or fucking each other senseless- either way was fine with me.

He stared up at me, that wide mouth of his stretching into a smile while I glowered down at him, pouting.

"Merlin, you're sexy," he expelled, reaching his hands up and taking hold of my breasts, rolling each nipple between his fingers. I moaned and arched my back as I straddled him. Something had to be done, and quickly. Still not thinking, I leaned over him for my wand and his arms snaked about my back, holding me down atop him. His mouth opened and I felt his lips latch about one of my nipples. I froze and then let out a long, drawn out groan that ended in a sigh. I could feel his tongue dancing about the hardened nub and bit my lip again before grinding my hips against the hard mound in his shorts. His mouth opened in a gasp and he took the opportunity to switch breasts. My mouth remained in an o and didn't close for several minutes. I was aware of making distinct, mewling noises and tugging on his hair repeatedly, but beyond that I can't recall a thing.

Somehow I must have fumbled with my wand and incanted the spell correctly, because my knickers and his shorts disappeared from their spots on our bodies and we were suddenly, blissfully nude. He didn't ask, didn't say a word to me, nor did I want or expect him to. He was simply against my core one moment, sliding between my swollen folds, and then he was inside me. I gasped and froze in his arms for the second time that night.

He paused and held me to him tightly as I adjusted. We hadn't either of us been very coherent the last time we'd come together, but tonight we hadn't had anything to drink. Our inebriation had nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with the fact that we were actively making love, had searched one another out after months of being apart, and had come together again. Once I'd caught my breath, the sensations were explosive. He was long and hard inside me and I could feel my core pulsing about him. The smell of perfume, cologne and sex filled the air and I felt tears come to my eyes.

It was so right. How could I have ever left him? How could he have ever left me? It was always us. Always. His arms tightened and he spoke.

"Hey. Hey, Hermione. Are you alright? Have I hurt you?" His voice was still hoarse and thick, but I could hear the tenderness and concern there. I moved my head and crashed my lips down upon his again in answer.

"Ron, oh, please," I whispered between kisses and his hands moved from my back to my hips, guiding me along him. We moved slowly and surely while our tongues and lips kept a faster pace. I tossed my head back as I arched away from him for better leverage and his lips found my throat again, kissing the skin there, dipping into the hollow of it. I moaned above him and he hummed in return, transferring his attention to my breasts again, taking his time with each one; before he finally traced a hand down between us and rubbed gently at my clit as our hips rose and fell, meeting one another in a wave of pleasure and heat.

As the pressure built into an impenetrable wall between us, his cock surging up and into me with every breath, I reached behind and dug my fingers into his thighs for support; earning me mewls from his lips that mirrored my own. I wouldn't last- couldn't last- and finally felt the long shudder rip up my spine and slam my hips to his, my legs clamping about his as I came hard around him. I must have made some noise, because his hands reached up and cupped my face, forcing me down to meet his lips again, swallowing the noises I made as I came apart. He followed me into oblivion a second later, his arms clasped about me tightly, face buried in my shoulder. My shoulders lost their tension and I finally slumped against his chest, spent and happy. He didn't pull away or set me aside and his fingers traced invisible patterns along my back while we were lost to our separate musings.

"I love you," he murmured into my hair after some minutes. I pulled away then and gazed down into his face, aware I must look a fright, but seeing only honesty in his eyes. I brushed his hair from his forehead again and traced a finger down his straight, noble nose.

"I love you," I replied, certain of myself for the first time in weeks, even if I was uncertain of my future. Whatever happened, I wanted this man by my side.

And in my bed.

I dissolved into giggles a moment later and Ron had to spend a full fifteen minutes kissing them away before I'd shut up so we could go to sleep.