Part 5: Swept Away
Finally, I have reached the summit of a mountain I have been climbing for years. Trembling fingers grab the handle and I breathlessly push open the door to my bedroom. A rush of satisfaction hits me like cool crisp air on my face as I dash inside, panting and wobbling.
I made it; I've planted my flag at the peak.
I stop in the middle of the room and turn as Ron practically throws himself through the door. We made it. My heart is working so hard its beats send violent tremors through my body, making my legs and hands shake.
Ron closes the door and pulls his wand from his pocket; I can barely make out the locking and silencing charms as he mutters them softly before setting his wand on the nightstand. He looks at me; his topaz eyes have darkened almost to onyx, but they still gleam intensely, asking me: Are you sure you want to do this?
And for a moment terror wins the battle for my emotions, and I second guess myself: This is not hasty snogging in the hallway or kitchen. This is premeditated; this is in a bedroom, where the door is locked and a silencing charm is cast; this is a promise-breaking, life-changing decision that needs to be made: Am I ready to follow through with this? Am I prepared for the consequences?
Ron can't seem to wait for an answer; he moves toward me and doesn't stop until our noses are almost touching. He brushes a loose strand of hair off of my cheek and tucks it behind my ear. Then he reaches behind me, and I feel him tug on my plait. He has removed the band; both hands gently unweave my hair and his eyes peel away my soul.
My breath catches in my throat.
He pulls my curls over my shoulders, brings both his hands to my ears and threads his fingers through my hair, his short nails grazing my scalp. The thick strands slip reluctantly through his fingers as if they do not want to be let go of. My whole head tingles, and sparks make my eyes flutter.
"Blimey Hermione, you're so beautiful," he says in a heady whisper that wraps around my spine and cuts off the circulation in my legs.
He cups my cheeks then coats my lips with a delicate, honeyed kiss. When he pulls away I stumble into him, eyes still closed, not wanting to relinquish his mouth. His hands run down my arms and clasp mine. Bowing his head, he takes a deep breath and, when he looks back up, his eyes are glassy.
My heart is a lump in his throat; he swallows, reclaiming what has been his for years.
"Listen, Hermione…" He begins. "These past few days- they've been completely mental. I mean, you've been driving me barmy. And when I think about how I'm driving you barmy too, it makes me even more barmy." He shakes his head, frustrated. "I'm rubbish; I don't even know what I'm saying…" His voice trails off. "I- I've just wanted this for so long. But I never really thought you fancied me." A smile plays over my lips as I watch his ears turn red like an element heating up on a stove. "I just... I want you- so badly…" And everything is serious again; the longing in his voice is gripping and makes me ache all over.
"Oh Ron… I want you too- so much it hurts." Saying it aloud feels so cathartic, yet terrifying at the same time. The corner of Ron's mouth twitches eagerly.
"So you want me... and I want you…" He confirms, but his tone and his eyes are leading: so now what? The unspoken words are a veil between us.
Ron bites his lip, as if trying to keep so many dirty thoughts from escaping his brain and spilling out of his mouth. If only he knew about the dam I desperately want to release and how I want to drench him, head to toe, in the torrent of fantasies and emotions I have walled inside of me. I hold fast, but the overflow begins to seep from my eyes.
I brush a tear away with my thumb, and Ron catches it, bringing my hand to his lip. His tongue licks away the droplet while his eyes burn into mine. Then he anoints each of my finger tips with silken kisses until he reaches my pinky finger; his lips envelope it and I gasp as he gently sucks. His mouth is so hot and wet, and I think about all the other places I want the same treatment.
My lips part, and a whimper escapes: a wordless plea.
I can't take it anymore, my whole body trembles with jealousy as I watch my finger move across Ron's lips. I pull my hand away and hastily replace it with my mouth. I breathe him in as we connect, and I inflate with passion. My arms snake around his neck as our lips begin a languid dance. It's sluggish and sweet, like treacle dripping off a spoon in January. I am astounded by how slow the kiss progresses considering the amount of raw lust that is coursing through my veins.
It's as if we have all the time in the world. Down in the kitchen it felt like a race, both of us desperately running for the finish line. But I now realize we have finally won; we are here, closed off, protected, and alone.
Let the celebration begin…
His arms pull me closer as my mouth opens wide to welcome him; I want him in every corner of my being.
We go from a simmer to a boil as Ron's hands delve under my clothes, and his lips tease my neck. My eyelids flicker and suddenly the bed comes into focus. Nervousness fizzles in my stomach and effervesces throughout my body. And that question I left unanswered earlier is a million tiny bubbles popping in my head. Am I ready for this? Ron squeezes my bum, and I can feel his eagerness press into me; the friction is maddening. The dragon's breath scorches the word yes onto the inside of my skull and the bubbles burn away.
I tentatively push Ron towards the bed. My brain has no interest in anything below my thighs; we clumsily shuffle, hoping our feet will get us there with little guidance. Ron's legs bump the bed, and his lips are wrenched from mine when he loses his balance and plops down onto the mattress. He quickly makes the best of his new position by lifting up my shirt and smearing kisses across my stomach. I encourage him by pulling it over my head and tossing it to the floor. I am bare-chested now, suddenly realizing I must have left my bra in the kitchen in our haste to leave. But that thought quickly gets tossed to the floor too as Ron's lips bathe my stomach and chest in bliss.
His hands move up my sides, and I let him pull me down to kneel on the bed, straddling him. Our groins connect and I purr. His hands knead my breasts as my fingers fist in his hair, and I kiss him hard. We topple back onto the bed and Ron rolls on top of me. I sink into the mattress as I claw at his shirt; he practically tears it off in his haste to remove it.
My fingernails rake his back and his kisses fall over me like autumn leaves; I want to shake his tree bare.
His lips travel down my frame until he reaches the waistline of my jeans. He sits up, his knees trapping me, and undoes the button. I watch his face, deep in concentration and suddenly I am overcome with emotion. There is so much I want to say to him, but as I feel him tug my jeans off my hips all I can focus on is the cool air hitting my thighs; a sharp contrast to the heat raging between my legs.
Ron flings my jeans away, and before he can move I sit up, kissing him fervently to gain courage as my fingers fumble with his trousers. Shaking hands unbutton and begin to push them off his hips. He gently guides me back to the mattress, shimmies them down his legs and kicks them off.
Our skin produces steam and our limbs melt together as his body pours over mine like molten lava down the side of a volcano. I buck my hips into him and the feeling of soft, yet firm, pressure sends me into a tailspin. Smoke is everywhere, and I don't know which way is up. And then suddenly the pressure is gone as he eases off of me and rests on his side.
Ron's eyes are a sunrise that bathe the landscape of my body in life-giving warmth. His fingers trail over my peaks and valleys, awakening every nerve ending. Gooseflesh blooms and tiny hairs stand at attention, begging for his touch.
I want him everywhere at once.
My hands grope his neck and shoulders greedily as we kiss, and kiss, and kiss.
"Ahhhh..!" I moan and bite my lips as his fingers brush the center of my knickers. Back and forth they sweep, and riots break out on the streets of my body.
My muscles hold their breath.
Two fingers become three, three become four, and they begin circling, slowly stirring me into delirium. Ron's hand sneaks under the fabric that is drenched in need. He pushes my knickers down my legs and I kick them off, sending them sailing off the bed.
I feel his hand glide tantalizingly slow up my leg, tracing circles on my thighs and over my stomach. His fingers are feathers dancing over my hip bone, but mine are like talons as they dig into his shoulder blades, demanding more.
I writhe under his touch, contorting with desire. And finally he grants my body its wish; a desperate cry punches through my teeth as I feel his hand slip into my fold and make contact with the very source of my heat; the dragon's heart is glowing white hot.
Ron drizzles kisses over my neck and chest as his hand skips and twitches nervously, but my body responds as if he moves with artisan skill; sculpting me, smoothing out my rough edges and turning hard clay to putty. His fingers both soothe and agitate, building pressure and urging the dragon to find an escape from its prison. But in order to gain freedom it is forced to travel deeper into the crevasse.
Everything grows darker and more confined as Ron's strokes become more tenacious. The dragon squeezes tighter into the space, the pleasure is almost pain as its wings tear and its skin is scraped over jagged rock. But it presses on, muscles coiling tighter as each second trumps the last in intensity.
I reach behind me and grip the headboard to ground my body, but the current spikes, and my body, convulses. His fingers move faster; massaging, flicking, teasing. My breath keeps pace, but my heart is beating twice as fast. I can't bare it anymore; the space is too tight, and my muscles are so cramped it's agony.
And then I see the light, a small pinprick in the darkness. With a rush of rabid ecstasy the dragon breaks free in an explosion that devastates all that surrounds it. Wings stretch, my back arches, and the dragon takes flight, laying waste to everything in its path.
Fire is everywhere.
Furniture turns to tinder, bedclothes disintegrate into flame. Coppery fingers dance all around us, igniting our bodies. I am enveloped, smothered, drowned in the inferno.
And then I am reborn from the ashes.
I blink through tears as they baptize my cheeks and pool in my ears. Ron traces their salty path with his lips, and licks my earlobe. Then he whispers;
"Hermione… I love you."
I die all over again.
.
~o8o~
.
My lips can kiss, but cannot form words. My tongue can dance with Ron's, but cannot speak. My mouth has been poised to utter the phrase for eons but now that the time has arrived no words are good enough.
"Ron," is the only thing I can say. Fitting, because right now I feel like we are all that is left in this world. "I- I…" I fumble and stutter, a newborn foal stumbling on virgin legs. He caresses my cheek, calming me.
"I know," he says and seals my mouth with a kiss that tells me he truly does. I wrap my arms around his back and pull him on top of me.
"Are you sure you want to do this? We don't have to, Hermione." I stare into two blue oceans rippling with excitement; I want to get swept away in them.
"Yes, I do," I tell him, and I really mean it. The words are barely out of my mouth when he sits up, ripping off his pants as if they are on fire. He tosses them to the floor, a triumphant smile conquering his face. I open my legs wider as he crawls up my body. He settles on top of me and takes some of his weight on propped elbows. My arm snakes around his neck while my other hand brushes the hair off his forehead and then slowly traces his jaw line. He is so beautiful…
"Are you ready?"
His words are a great tidal wave looming in the distance, making its way closer to me. I don't want to be the Hermione who worries if her life vest is on right, checks to make sure all the straps are fastened to instruction-manual standards, and then huddles in a ball dreading the crash. I want to be the Hermione who runs toward the wave, arms outstretched, hair wild in the breeze, willing it to crash into her and pull her to depths unknown.
"Wait," I whisper. "Do you know the spell?" Confusion clouds Ron's face, but it only takes a second for realization to shine through. We need to perform an anti-pregnancy charm.
"Oh, right." He reaches for his wand on the nightstand. "Do you want to do it?"
"Oh, no, you go ahead," I say, knowing that if I were to take my hands off his shoulders they would shake so violently the calm façade I am upholding would crumble. Ron eases off me and points the wand at my stomach as he mutters the spell. I watch to make sure he has performed the correct hand movement and annunciation. I smile approvingly at him and he lets the wand slip from his fingers.
I take in a deep breath as I welcome his weight on top of me once again .
"Now I'm ready," I say and bring my lips to his. His tongue delves into my mouth and his hips push against mine. And when I lift my legs and wrap them around his waist I feel him enter. Delicious pain grips my body, and my previously loose muscles tense and coil once more.
He breaks my seal and thrusts himself into every part of me.
I am filled to the brim, and feel like I am going to overflow. Again, tears begin to stream from my eyes; years of longing, jealousy and uncertainty pour out of me; there is no room for them anymore.
"Are you ok?" he asks when I feel his hips pressed firmly against mine. He is buried in me now and, although the pain is intense, it is the most gratifying torment I have ever experienced. I feel like I am being ripped apart, but for the purpose of being rebuilt into something better.
I nod and breathe,"Just… just go slow."
Ron kisses the tears that continue to flow, and begins to push in and out of me. At first the friction stings, like nettles being scraped across my skin. But as Ron's movements become more rhythmic it feels like I am being slowly doused in honey; the sweet syrup coats my wailing muscles, soothing and lubricating. Choppy jerks become lucid thrusts and the pain slowly ebbs.
Ron's face hovers above mine; his breathing is jagged and erratic; hot moans and gasps spill out of his mouth and dust my chest like fallen embers. I begin to feel a warm glow in my core as his pace quickens; he is lighting me up both inside and out.
He presses his forehead to mine and suddenly he is pushing even harder. I tense as if readying myself for a stab of pain, but it doesn't come. Instead I feel a surge of pleasure, and I bathe in the heat it brings. He thrusts hard again and the pleasure doubles. I cry out in surprise and grip Ron's neck. I dig my heels into his lower back, now desperate for more of this new found glory. He seems to understand what I want and, eager to give it, quickens his pace. His face contorts in a boiling mixture of concentration and elation. His impatient grunts grow louder as they couple with my lusty cries and reverberate within the room.
At first I was scared I would break, but now the pain is all but a memory, and the bliss is overwhelming. My muscles begin to quiver around him, and agonizing pressure is building yet again. I tighten my grip on him and begin to move my hips in time with his. We are melting into each other; our breath, our moans, and our bodies weave together.
We are two base metals compounding, turning to gold in an alchemist's caldron.
My muscles begin to pulse rapidly; my whole body is a heartbeat. Ron holds fast to my body and cries out my name with a final thrust that sends a shockwave through me so strong I feel as if I have been catapulted into the stars.
Everything is black again. Then tiny lights sparkle and fade in front of my eyes. I feel Ron's body tense and then completely relax. He releases his whole weight onto me, but I am floating so far away I can barely feel it.
It's Ron's lips on my neck that summon me back to earth. My eyes flutter open, and the room slowly comes back into focus. I hear him breathing soft but fast in my ear, and feel his heart beat in rhythm with my own. He pulls away slightly, and his features come into focus. The biggest smile I have ever seen has hijacked Ron's face; it's so wide it slips off his cheek and splashes all over me; I beam it back at him. But our smiles aren't enough; the happiness that is flooding us bursts from our mouths in a torrent of giggles. We hold each other as our bodies shake with giddiness.
My emotions finally see an exit route, and as my body pumps out laughter, I am soon overcome with all that I haven't said to Ron. A lifetime of secrets and wishes churn inside of me. I can't hold the floodgates any longer.
"Ron," I begin, and so do the tears. "Ron, Ron, Ron…" I sigh. He brushes some strands of hair off my face with the pad of his thumb.
"Hermione," he breathes. My name has never sounded so beautiful, until now.
"I can't believe all of this is happening…" I say. "I have been so hopelessly, desperately - not to mention madly - in love with you since-" I stop, suddenly struck with the notion that I really have no idea when I fell in love with Ron Weasley. I guess he has been kindling a fire in my heart for years now; his smiles, his deeds, his faults and his triumphs have all been tinder for the slowly growing flame. "Since forever, I guess." I can feel the truth burning my face. "It has always been you." And it always will be you.
As I let myself get lost once more into those perfectly blue eyes, I say the words that have been etched into my heart for years:
"I love you, Ron."