They landed in a beautifully decorated sitting room, warm with soft cream walls, eighteenth century features and luscious furnishings. The balcony door was open and letting in the lovely warm spring sun and soft breeze, stirring the light curtains that shielded them from the view. She could just about make out the walls of the historical inner city and Ponte Vecchio before spinning around to take everything in.
"This is beautiful," she smiled, looking at the man she would now call husband observing her reaction with a pleased smile.
"I'm glad it's to your liking," he took her hand and laced their fingers with a gentle squeeze, pulling her closer into his arms. "It's barely dinner time. Would you like to go for a walk and get some dinner in the Piazza della Signoria?" he suggested.
Her smile lit up the room. "I would love to, if we have the time?" she asked, not sure if he was hurrying into consummating the fresh bond that thrummed in their chests.
Catching her meaning, he kissed her forehead gently. "We have all the time in the world," he promised, unwilling to hurry her.
"Then we best get changed, though you do look handsome in your robes," she caressed his chest, giving into the need to feel him close.
Her unrestrained affection was something he enjoyed greatly and he squeezed her hand, taking her up the stairs to the second floor to the master bedroom. A small house elf in a lovely purple uniform awaited them and dropped into a curtsey upon seeing them. "Master and Mistress, I is happy to serve you," Finkley greeted them.
"Thank you Finkley," Kingsley enlarged their luggage and set it down on the ground. "You've done a lovely job getting this house ready for us," he praised and could see the little elf swell with pride.
"It's lovely to meet you Finkley, I look forward to getting to know you," Hermione offered, trying to get used to the idea of having a house elf.
"I is so happy to finally have a Mistress," Finkley beamed and clicked her fingers, the luggage flying around the room in an orderly manner and neatly folding itself to the twin wardrobes. "Finkley will come if Master and Mistress need anything." she curtseyed again and popped out of view.
"She's lovely, I can see she's well taken care of," Hermione acknowledged.
"I promise she is very happy in her employ," Kingsley offered and began working on his robes, setting them down on the bed as he knew Finkley would be glad to have something to clean and put away before he began working on his shirt.
Hermione walked to the other side of the bed and selected a light summer dress, feeling the heat of the early evening through her house robes, and realised she would need some help. "Uhm, would you might helping me with the buttons?" she asked, turning her back to him.
His steps were quiet and touch gentle as he began undoing the row of small buttons, revealing smooth warm skin as he trailed along her spine. The house robes didn't allow for a bra, and she was well aware the buttons stopped just above her tailbone so she held still, holding the front of the robes to her chest as the fabric caressed her skin.
Finished with the buttons, Kingsley leaned down and placed a tender kiss to her shoulder, hearing her breath hitch at the intimate touch before retreating to his side of the room, giving her the space she needed. She kept her back turned to him as she pulled on a bra and the dress, turning around to set her robes on the bed as Kingsley had done. His back was still turned to her and he was just in the process of buttoning up his trousers, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip at the sight of his muscles shifting with the movement. He was a very handsome man and she found herself admiring the view before realising he caught her looking in the mirror and grinned at the blush that graced her cheeks.
"I heard something about wanting to see Botticelli and eating gelato. Are you ready?" he asked, as she slipped into his loafers.
"Absolutely. Will you show me your favourite places?" she asked as she pulled the strap of her handbag over her head, glad to be back to her rings only, the rest of the heavy jewellery stored safely.
"It would be my pleasure," he took her hand and they walked out into the street below, the scents of delicious coffee and sweet flowers filling enticing their senses.
"No!" she laughed, clutching her side as she wiped a tear of laughter from her face. "I can't imagine John Major caught with his pants down, that's too hilarious."
"I swear it was one of those moments in my career that are absolutely unforgettable. He just stood there, clutching his trousers and looked at us aghast, as if we were the half naked ones. The secretary promptly turned on her heel and with a voice choking with laughter said 'Buckingham palace on line one, sir,' and dashed to her desk."
Her laughter rang out across the courtyard, and he delighted in being the one to cause such a sound of joy from her. He noticed a few people looking at her in amusement as well as curiosity, several of the men around them even appreciatively. Instead of the ugly dig of jealousy, he only felt pleased to have her by his side as his companion.
"Oh my goodness," she wiped her tears and stemmed a last giggle before picking up her handbag. "Let me just freshen up and we can head off. I need to walk off this pasta or it will stick to my hips."
"All the more for me to hold," he hummed, seeing the blush bloom on her cheeks as she slipped past him inside the restaurant in search of the loos.
He pulled on his shades and looked around the piazza, spotting a rather conspicuous young man with a camera, pretending to be taking local pictures and every so often turning to take a photo his way. If that wasn't a dead giveaway, the mismatched flower printed trousers and striped t-shirt identified him as a wizard trying to blend into the muggle world. Bloody paparazzi, didn't have a moment of peace.
He pretended to study the menu again while he muttered a wandless charm, watching the fountain behind the man's back rise up and soak the man and his camera completely. He was frantically trying to press the buttons, and shaking it to see if it would work but it appeared the water did its job.
He felt her before he heard her, her presence behind him as she leaned down, pressing her lips to his ear. "I saw that, Minister. Magic around muggles, I wonder what the people of Magical Britain would say to that," she hummed.
"I don't know what you could possibly mean, these fountains are so pesky to upkeep, no wonder people get splashed occasionally," he said nonchalantly.
"Hmm ready to give him the slip?" She straightened up and offered him her hand this time.
"Do let's. I hear Ponte alla Grazie is beautiful this time of the evening," he squeezed her hand gently and they walked right past the fretting man and blended into the building mass of locals and tourists.
They walked past the museums and onto the bridge which was milling with tourists, and found a quieter spot to take a view of the ancient city around them. Shielding her from the jostling bodies, Kingsley stood behind her, his arms coming to rest on the stone ledge, bracketing her into his hold and the heat of his firm body as they looked out over the river Arno towards Ponte Vecchio which they'd crossed earlier.
"I could stay here for weeks, just exploring the city and eating all the food," Hermione admitted, closing her eyes and letting herself be enveloped in his scent as he bent down slightly to rest his cheek against hers. The stubble on his cheek tickled her soft skin and she delighted in the tendril of heat it sent through her, imagining what it would feel like to have that stubbled touch on her inner thigh with his body hovering over her.
"I wish we had the chance to," he admitted, his deep basso lulling her into pressing closer into his body. "I promise we'll take holidays, away from the pressure of the office and the press, just the two of us."
"I'll hold you to that, Minister. You shouldn't make such promises to your constituents without fulfilling them," she hummed teasingly.
His lips dropped to the gentle curve of her shoulders and kissed the skin there devotedly. "I wouldn't dream of making such a promise to my constituents. Only to my wife."
Her heart fluttered wildly, realising it was the first time he had called her his wife. She had a husband. She was Lady Shacklebolt, and First Wix of their nation. But at this very moment, she was just a new bride, eager to get to know her husband.
"I would like one more tour tonight…" she offered, continuing at his inquisitive hum. "I don't think I've had a chance to really see the master suite properly…"
Her words were spoken softly but he had no trouble hearing her, his hand moving from the warm stone to her hip, squeezing the supple flesh there with delight, a spark of desire passing between them at the intimate touch. "Well then, it would be rude of me to keep you waiting, my lady," he stepped back and offered her his elbow, his dark gaze molten as it met her bright whiskey one.
The walk back to the town house was silent but tense in the most pleasing of ways, and she had to temper her steps to not appear like she was rushing. Because she was ready to consummate this bond and get to know this man in new ways. Finkley was thankfully out of sight as they arrived and headed up towards the bedroom, depositing their shoes by the door before Kingsley cast the silencing and locking charms on the chamber while she opened the balcony wider, wanting to hear and smell the fresh city air and coffee brewing across the street.
She would be a fool not to look forward to kissing him, if their first kiss was anything to go by. She wondered whether he would be gentle or passionate, whether they would be truly compatible in this area of their lives. She jumped a little as he spoke close to her ear, not having heard him move closer.
"I think, Lady Shacklebolt, that your mind is far too busy. Perhaps we can do something about that?" he hummed and she felt his fingers inching the fabric of her dress higher.
"I'd be much obliged," she replied, allowing him to lift the dress over her head before turning to face him and pulling his head down to finally have the desired kiss. He tasted of coffee and tiramisu and her arms wrapped around his shoulders, wanting to feel him closer.
He didn't hesitate to pull on her thighs until she was wrapped around him, their chests pressing close and her hips rubbing sensually against the hardness barely contained by his trousers. Feeling him so close to where she needed him made her shudder in anticipation and she nipped his lip in silent demand for more.
His answering growl had her clenching in need as he deposited her on the bed and pulled his t-shirt over his head, giving her for the first time full view of his physique, tight and muscled from his workouts. He was in fantastic shape and she was eager to feel the weight of him on her. Impatient, she reached back to her bra and had it off in moments as he tugged her knickers down her legs, his gaze taking her in as he joined her on the bed after kicking off his trousers.
She reached for him to feel him close but he dropped a kiss to her belly instead, asking permission with a raised brow as breathed in the musky scent of her arousal. She nodded, bottom lip caught between her teeth as he kissed his path up to her small breasts, flicking the nipples with his tongue, nuzzling the soft skin of the valley between them as he made his way over her sides, her hips, nipping her thigh and making her jump with a giggle at the ticklish spot.
He chuckled, enjoying her unabashed sounds and vocal pleasure, her sighs encouraging him to explore her. Merlin, she was beautiful. He nuzzled her soft inner thigh, nipping on the tender skin lightly to not tickle her again before finally nuzzling the patch of trimmed coarse curls, enjoying the way she squirmed beneath him. He parted her slick folds gently before his tongue flicked out to taste her, barely curling inside her for a moment before pressing flat on its way up to her clit, flicking it just with the tip to see her reaction. She gasped and arched back, reaching down to hold onto his hand on her hip, her nails digging into his skin slightly as he saw the opening clenching hungrily before his very eyes.
That was only the beginning of the delicious assault on her senses though, as Hermione could do little but hold onto his hand and the sheets as he proceeded to dismantle her mental defences and ability to talk with his clever tongue. He circled the clit before sucking on it lightly but she gasped and pushed on his hand a little, shaking her head. Too much, too intense. He moved back to flick at it with different pressure, watching her every reaction until he settled on just the right rhythm, her whimpers and soft cries of pleasure increasing as she felt herself coming close.
She felt his hand move to place and arched into the touch as he smoothly slid one of his fingers inside her, instinctively digging her heels into the mattress to thrust down on the delightful intrusion. "More," she pleaded, wanting to feel him fill her until she was completely mindless.
He added a second finger and hooked them into her tender walls and the sensitive spot there, his tongue unrelenting in his quest to see her shatter for him. And she did, a few moments later as the pressure became too much, the frown of concentration between her brows deepening before smoothing out. Her lips fell open in a silent scream as she shuddered through her release seemingly endlessly.
And he watched every second of it, committing the moment to memory as he guided her through the pleasure, wringing every last ounce of the delicious tremors from her. He gave her a few moments to loosen her grip on his touch before withdrawing gently, caressing her thigh soothingly. She squirmed under his touch and held up her hand to stop any further touches. "Too...sensitive…sorry.." she panted, her eyes closing shut fiercely as she tried to get a hold of her body.
"Nothing to be sorry for," he promised as he moved up to lay beside her, giving her the space she needed to cool off and for her body to work through the aftershocks. He summoned a couple of glasses and a quick aguamenti had them filled, watching her drink thirstily as he cleaned himself up.
She reached for him when she felt the tremors subside some, and relished being pulled close into his body, reaching up to scratch lightly at the short fade on the side of his head. A pleased rumble escaped him at the intimate touch, his fingers still light in their touch as they caressed her back.
"Are you always this sensitive, or been a while?" he asked softly not to startle her, watching her eyes open again, still darkened by their earlier passion.
"I'm usually this sensitive...since the war," she admitted. "Just need a couple of minutes to come down. My nervous system sustained long-lasting damage from Cruciatus so my healer suspects it might be one of the side effects," she explained before her lips quirked up. "And it had been a while as well," she admitted.
He nodded in understanding. "I'll be mindful of that, as well as any request or preference you have."
Her brow rose and she looked at him curiously. "Requests? It sounds like you may already have something in mind," she pointed out.
Kingsley shrugged, not the least bit self-conscious. "Well the kitchen counter is the perfect height, I think, but never had a chance to give it a go."
Hermione smiled at the simple statement. Yes, it was an invitation for a kitchen quickie which she had no issue agreeing to, but it was also clear Kingsley hadn't invited any woman into his home and though she would have had no issue with his previous experiences, somehow knowing that no other woman had slept with or enjoyed him in that house was reassuring.
"I haven't really had the chance to examine them so happy to give them due consideration," she grinned and pushed on his shoulder until he rested back against the pillows and she settled astride his firm frame. "In the meantime, I would like to feel this," she ground her hips against his hard boxer-clad length, "inside me."
Kingsley groaned at the feel of her moist heat pressing against him so intimately, the thin cotton of his boxers doing nothing to hide just how ready she was for him. "Then have your wicked way with me, Lady Shacklebolt. You will find nothing but my enthusiastic consent."
She leaned down, their lips barely brushing together as she looked straight into his eyes and whispered 'Divesto' across his lips, her wandless magic pulsing across his skin as the last barrier between their bodies disappeared, leaving her moist folds pressing along his length sensually.
His teeth nipped at her bottom lip with a soft growl at the sensation of her moist heat. Gods, she was so warm, he couldn't wait to feel her now that he knew how delicious she was.
Hermione held onto his shoulders as she pressed against him tightly and reached between them to guide him inside her hungry body. Merlin, the girth of him… She'd experienced a variety of partners, some longer and larger than others. As she sank into his hard length, her lips parted in a silent moan as she felt the sting of the stretch. He was the perfect length for her, reaching deeply without nudging her cervix too hard, and he stretched her in the most delicious of ways. She could foresee lube being her friend in the future.
His fingers buried in her wild curls as he gripped the curve of her arse and thrust his hips gently, hissing at the tight squeeze of her body. "Alright?" he murmured against her lips, not wanting to break her concentration but needing to check-in.
Her eyes opened, brilliant deep whiskey glittering with passion as she leaned down to capture his lips in a hungry kiss, her hips rubbing against his and making him press deeper within her. It took them a few moments to find their rhythm, but once they did, Kingsley didn't know where to look first.
Sitting astride his hips, her small perky breasts hovered over his face and he leaned up to suck on a pert nipple as she thrust down onto his length sharply at the added stimulation. Her gentle curves, her soft skin, the musky scent of her arousal mixing with the enticing scent of her vanilla lotion and coconut oil in her hair. Her body was a canvas of scars, some small, one large running across her chest and he nuzzled the dark puckered skin between her breasts, feeling the scar's edges against his face as he nipped her breast. Being surrounded by her only made him want to claim her harder, his magic rising along his skin to touch hers.
Merlin, that magical caress made her back arch with pleasure, feeling it merging with her own rising magic as the late Italian sun warmed her skin. She felt embraced, wanted, beloved in a way, and most of all accepted. Kingsley's magic was welcoming her, the Shacklebolt patriarch was welcoming his match and the matriarch of the family as they sealed the bond they forged earlier that day at the family stone circle.
He couldn't hold back any longer and rolled them until she lay splayed beneath him, pushing her thighs even wider apart as he held her close, lips panting against each other as he gave into the urge to claim this woman in the full meaning of that world. She was his - his wife, his partner, his friend, his companion, the woman who will give him the gift of their children, the one he felt in his soul and his magic was his match and his future.
Hermione held onto his shoulders, nails digging into the tight muscles beneath her touch as she held on and let the pleasure carry her. She was so close, so very close, her walls clenching around the delicious pressure of his thrusts and the rub of his hips at her clit in this position. She just needed a little bit-
His teeth nipped her pulse point sharply and she tumbled over the edge with a surprised cry, clenching around him as he joined her in bliss and thrust twice more before spilling deep inside her, consummating their wedding and bond. Their magic pulsed languidly along their skin, reaching for each other and tangling as they caught their breath, bodies cooling slowly in the warm evening.
She tapped his side gently and he let up, watching her shimmy out of bed and dash to the bathroom to clean up. He would have been worried about her hurry to leave their bed, but as he cast a cleaning charm on himself and the sheets, he realised with chagrin that it has been a while and he did come rather copiously. Hermione cleaned up and came back to the bedroom, unself-conscious about her nudity now that she knew Kingsley intimately.
"Sorry for the mess," he pulled the sheets back in invitation.
She smiled, curling close into his warm skin, caressing the dark lines of text and runes tattooed into his hips and across his thick biceps. "It felt good, and as we discussed I'm not fertile right now so we'll be fine," she nuzzled into the smattering of dark curls across his chest.
Her eyes started closing on her, the whirlwind of the wedding day and the nerves in the run up to it took their toll as she settled more closely against him and dozed off. Kingsley just held her close and closed his eyes, allowing himself this moment of carefree enjoyment. There was no country to run, no one to lobby, no politicians kissing his ass.
It was just the two of them, soaking up the very last rays of the sunset as they got to know each other's mind and body without the pressure of the outside world. He had suspected it would be the case, but in that quiet moment, he felt more than ever that he could love his wife.