I tried to untie the apron several times as she got the rest of dinner together but she pretended to be oblivious to her own near-nudity. It was all a game. I wasn't sure if I wanted to win or lose. The scent of lemon filled our kitchen and made my stomach growl. She squeezed another lemon into the saute pan and it sizzled. She winked at me and smiled.

A short time after we started eating I noticed Hermione playing with her knife. She balanced it up on its handle and held it up by pushing the pad of her pointer finger down on the tip of the blade. She spun it slowly with her thumb. I realize I am sometimes slow on the uptake, but I could read her signals loud and clear.

I didn't know if she did that consciously; sort of as a signal to me of what was swirling around her mind, but whenever she did that sex afterwards was going to get rough. We didn't say much as we ate. She was devouring me with her eyes. She'd dropped lemon slices into our glasses of ice water. She drained hers dry and pulled the lemon wedge out with her fingers. I watched, trying not to drool as she sucked all the remaining juice out of it. I felt her toes sneak up the leg of my trousers. Then she let her foot tickle up my inseam up to the zip. I bit the inside of my cheek and pretended I didn't notice.

It was all about who could hold out longer. I could play her game.

I cleared the table after dinner and started washing dishes when she silently took my hand and pulled me towards the bedroom. Soon we were fooling around, rolling back and forth across the new duvet.

"Ouch, Hermione, knock it off!" I yelped. She'd bitten my shoulder again, really hard. I glared down at her in a scolding way but she was smirking and I felt her ankles cross behind my back, forcing me to pump into her deeply; I just couldn't be mad at her when she did that.

She closed her eyes and I watched her teeth begin to gnaw on her lower lip. She bit down harder with every one of my thrusts and her moaning was becoming more and more rhythmic – a sure sign she was going to explode soon.

I leaned up on my arms and pumped my hips into her, watching her perfect little tits bounce with every movement. Hermione lifted her hands above her head and took hold of the vertical slats in the wooden headboard. Her arms flexed as she attempted to pull her body closer to the top of the bed.

I closed my eyes and pressed my mouth to hers. Her tongue pushed its way into my mouth and I massaged it back with my own. Her mouth was hot and tasted of lemon. I felt her hands in my hair, holding my forehead to hers.

"Fuck, Ron…that feels so good." She moaned. I felt her nails dragging down my back. She returned her left hand back to my hair, gently tugging the curly ends of it. Her right hand stayed on my back. I felt her nails digging into my flesh and she scraped them down to my arse.

"Fuck, Mione! That hurts!" I growled. Instinctively, I grabbed both of her arms and pinned them above her head. She let out a loud moan of pleasure and a hissing sound I'd never heard her make before.

"Ooooh so good…" she moaned. Her voice came out a thick, sticky pool of caramel.

I knew how to get her volume to double. It quickened my already rapid pulse to even think about the last time.

I truly loved making her happy, loved how loudly she came, as if she were announcing to our entire building that I, Ron Weasley, was a sex god. I freely admit I loved feeling the rush of hot liquid around my balls when she came hard enough.

I just hated hurting her.

Hitting a girl was just something you didn't do. When I was four, I smacked my sister's hand when she tried to steal one of my chocolate biscuits and I got into so much trouble. The way Mum yelled at me, I seriously doubted if I'd ever see another chocolate biscuit. It didn't matter that Ginny had gotten into trouble for pouring her cup of milk onto Percy's head (which was why she wasn't allowed to have any biscuits of her own).

All Mum could say over and over again was, "Be nice to your sister. Be sweet to your sister. Never hit a girl, Ronald."

I was raised to respect women, to open doors and to be polite. Knowing the woman I loved more than life sometimes liked to be treated roughly like a cheap fuck toy both turned me on to no end and frustrated me entirely.

The pain felt good. I don't know why. I hate to think it stemmed from Malfoy Manor. I hate to think that something which brings me indescribable pleasure has any connection with Bellatrix and the scars on my neck and my arm that will never go away. Nothing about that torture felt good in the least, I thought I was dying. However, when Ron dominated me in bed, my body was on fire and those scars all ripped open, my passion was fueled.

I'll never say that sex with Ron got boring. Honestly, it didn't. I wasn't the peak of experience but my guess is that sex with someone of Ron's endowment could never get boring. That being said, I occasionally liked it when he got rough.

The first time was nearly an accident. We were at my parents' house for a weekend visit and something about having sex in my old room made everything feel so incredibly illicit and exciting. I was perhaps moaning too loudly. My parents were a mere two rooms away. I rocked on top of Ron while he sucked on my nipples and I felt his hands all over my back and my arse. I moaned really loudly.

"Shh…do you want them to hear us?" He said. I bit my lip but I felt my orgasm building faster. I moaned again.

"You're too loud, Mione. Seriously…" He tried putting his hand over my mouth to shush me but I bit him. I wasn't trying to hurt him; it felt like a reflex to clench my teeth around the fingers over my lips.

"Fucking shit, woman!" He yelped. He grabbed me around the waist and next thing I knew I was flat on my back and his hand was around my throat, squeezing. He kissed me hard, which I love, but his hand around my throat squeezing just enough to make me stop moaning lit a new fire in me.

There was no limit to how loud I could get in our flat. My parents weren't down the hall anymore.

He pounded away on top of me and I raised my legs up over his shoulders. He pinned my arms down so I couldn't scratch him. Every last inch of him slammed into me again and again.

"Your pussy is mine, Hermione." His mouth spat out the words before he kissed me hard.

"All yours…" I responded arching my neck away from him.

He sucked on my neck and I felt myself about to erupt.

"Hit me." I said quietly.

Ron did a double take. "What? No, I can't do that."

"Please," I begged. "Please hit me…"

I saw his face contort. He let go of my right wrist and tapped my cheek.

"Again…please…harder…"

He delivered a second slightly harder tap to my cheek. It was clear that he was willing but needed a push in the right direction. I was all too happy to oblige.

I spat in his face and slapped him with my free hand as hard as I could.

"Fucking hell, Mione!" He groaned. Without another thought, Ron slapped me hard enough to send me over the edge. I came three times, hard and loud and Ron followed suit.

He collapsed next to me on the bed and immediately went into caretaker mode.

"Are you alright? Was that too hard?" He kissed my face all over. "I'll do anything you want me to, but you know I hate hitting you, Mione…" He stroked my glistening forehead sweetly.

"I love your cock, Ron." I growled, taking his face in my hands and kissing him.

I might be easy to please, but who wouldn't love to hear that?