Passion
"Oh Harry," Hermione panted as he nibbled along her collarbone.
"I love you so much." he growled into her soft skin, peppering her neck with searing kisses.
"'Love is a spirit all compact of fire,'" she quoted breathily.
"I love it when you talk Shakespearian." Harry moaned, his hands roaming freely.
"Come upstairs and I promise I'll recite some Twelfth Night." Hermione promised, her eyes bright and eager.
Harry couldn't move fast enough.
"O, then unfold the passion of my love."