Ginny Weasley was bored.  The summer was nearly half over and Harry wouldn’t be coming to The Burrow this year since he’d left school in June.  He and Ron had rented a flat in Muggle London near the Leaky Cauldron – much to her mother’s dismay – so even Ron was gone.  In fact, all her brothers were gone.  Percy had married Penelope and they were living near Hogsmeade; Fred and George had a flat above their shop in Diagon Alley; Bill had his own place somewhere in London (he wasn’t too specific with directions); and Charlie was still in Romania.

Being all alone with her parents was no treat.  Her mother seemed even less inclined to give Ginny freedoms now that she was the only one left.

Ginny kicked at the porch railing.  There were no pranks to relieve the tension between her and her mother.  No brothers that could conveniently get in trouble and deflect attention.  It was as stifling as the summer heat, which, even now after sunset, felt almost tangible against her skin.

She stomped back into the house.  She would go visit Ron and Harry.  Maybe Hermione would even be there visiting Ron.

“Mum!” she called.  “I’m going to Ron’s.”  And, before waiting for a reply, tossed Floo powder into the kitchen fire and called out, “Ron Weasley’s!”

With a cough and a puff of ash, Ginny was expelled into Ron and Harry’s flat.  Brushing herself off, she looked around.  She’d been by a week earlier and taken it upon herself to clean.  By the looks of things, that was the last time things were clean, she thought irritably.  Pigs, the boys live like pigs.

“Hello?” she yelled, sincerely hoping someone was home.  Even if no one was, she didn’t think they’d mind if she stayed a while.

“Ginny?” Harry called.  After a moment, he emerged from the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

Ginny’s mouth went dry.  He was dressed in nothing but black leather trousers that left little to the imagination.  His chest and feet were bare and his hair was more tousled than usual.  Sybaritic, that’s the word to describe him.

Swallowing hard, she asked, “D-did I wake you?”

He shook his head and stepped closer.  Involuntarily, Ginny took a step back.  He stopped.  “Something wrong?”

Look anywhere but at him, Ginevra! she told herself fiercely.  Though they had parted friends at the Hogwarts Express in June, the goodbye kiss Harry had given her hadn’t been the chaste kiss of just a friend; he had lingered a bit too long for it to be entirely platonic.  Tearing her eyes away and staring at the sofa, she tried hard to remember why she had thought herself over him.  He’d raised her hopes with that kiss, but had given her no indication of interest since then.

She stood with her fists clenched and her eyes screwed shut arguing with herself for so long, she never heard Harry approach.  She didn’t know he was in front of her until he placed a finger to her chin and lifted her head.

“Ginny?”

Her eyes snapped open and locked with his.  His green eyes were dark, the look in them definitely not brotherly.  Oh, I’m going to drown.

“Yes?”  She was pleased that she didn’t stutter her answer this time.

“Is there something wrong?”

She blinked.  What was he talking about?  “Er, no.”

A smile now played at one corner of his mouth.  “Then why are you here?”  His finger slid back from her chin to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

Her mind went blank when he caressed her ear.  With supreme effort, she pulled herself together to answer, “It’s too hot and I was bored.”

“Hmm, can’t have that, can we?”  His smile was utterly wicked.  Where did Harry go?  This isn’t the same person I saw last week, is it?

“Harry?”  He raised his eyebrows in reply.  “Why, um, are you, um –” and what are you supposed to ask?  Why are you acting like a sex god?  Why are you suddenly channeling Draco Malfoy?  “– acting so differently tonight?”

He took away the hand she hadn’t even realized was on her neck, turned and flopped onto the sofa; more sprawled than flopped, one arm on the back of the sofa the other on the arm of it, one leg on the sofa and one resting on the floor.

“Maybe I’m bored, too?” he replied, his tone more of a question than true reply.

Trying to gain control of the situation, she shifted her weight to one leg and propped her hand on one hip.  “Oh, really?” she asked archly.

He grinned and patted the sofa between his knees.  “Come sit down.”

She felt suddenly as if she’d run the distance between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts…twice.  Her heart pounded in her chest; her breath was short, not yet panting but on the verge.  Licking her lips and ignoring his invitation, she asked, “Why are you dressed like that?”

He pretended to pout.  “Don’t you like it?”

Biting the inside of her cheek, Ginny let a frustrated sigh escape.  “It has possibilities.”

With a non-committal noise in the back of his throat, Harry stood again and walked toward her with such feline grace, it was like watching a panther in motion.  Only a panther would have that same balance of grace and dangerousness that was so appealing.

She was torn between trying to work out where his behavior was coming from – Harry was never this forward or sexual – and just going along for the ride.  She decided to go along for the ride when he moved close enough to invade her personal space.  He stood right in front of her, but did not touch her.

She managed to drag her eyes upwards, away from the hollow where his neck met his shoulder.  When she met his eyes, they were full of a hungry expression, similar to before but not quite the same.  Now she felt like prey.

How will he feel if I turn the tables? she thought, suddenly mischievous.  Swallowing hard, she raised one hand and pressed it to his cheek.  A smile turned the corners of her mouth.

“Possibilities?” he asked, his voice like a purr.

She brought her other hand up after surreptitiously wiping it on her trousers, using both hands to frame his face.  “Possibilities.”

He turned his head so his lips were pressed against her palm.  “So…you like these trousers?”

“Yes,” she answered, voice low.

She thought she would lose her mind when he pressed his tongue against the damp skin of her palm, licking slowly from wrist to fingers.  She couldn’t stem the moan that welled up inside her and shuddered in pleasure.

Harry took both her hands in his and bent her arms back, imprisoning them behind her.  Pulling her against him, he buried his face in her hair.

“Ginny,” he whispered roughly.

“Yes?”

“I need you.”

Shock sent a wave of something through her, making her tingle from scalp to toes.  And all it took was my reaction to those fuck-me trousers?  She smiled.

“Do you?”

She felt him clench his jaw, throat muscles tightening against her forehead.  With a growl, he used his grip on her to pull her body tight against his at the waist.  She felt his erection straining against those leather trousers, so much that she wondered if he was in pain given their tightness.

Ginny’s breath hissed from between her teeth.  “I guess that answers my question.”

In response, Harry pressed his lips to her neck.  Between heated kisses to the tight cord of muscle, he managed to rasp out, “I was trying to leave you alone” – kiss – “but I was thinking about you tonight” – sigh –  “then you turned up” – nibble – “and had a look in your eyes” – lick – “that said you would devour me” – teeth – “if I gave you a chance.”

Ginny tugged her hands free and shoved him backwards.  His surprised expression quickly changed to unshielded desire when he brought his eyes to her face.  She stalked forward, one hand on his chest, forcing him back.  When his knees hit the sofa and he fell, her smile was feral.

Slowly, one knee on either side of him, she climbed onto the sofa, straddling him.  With her hands on his shoulders, she pinned him to the back of the sofa.

“You didn’t answer me,” she stated.  Leaning forward, her mouth hovering next to his ear, she whispered, “Why are you wearing those trousers?”  Then she ran her tongue along the shell of his ear, laughing softly when he moaned.

He shoved his hands into her hair, pulling the tie from it, letting it cascade down against his bare chest.  She shook her head slightly, letting her tresses slide over his skin.  His fingers tightened against her scalp when she moved her tongue lower.

“You really want to know?” he growled, tilting his head back to give her better access.  She made a noise that meant yes, but was also intended to vibrate along his nerve endings.  She watched his Adam’s apple bob significantly when he swallowed hard.

“Ron and I were going to go with Hermione to a Muggle club –” here he had to pause while Ginny moved her lips along his throat to the other ear “– and Hermione said these were appropriate.”

“Mmm,” Ginny murmured.  She slid her hands down his chest.  She had touched him in a sisterly way before, but this was anything but.  “Ron needs to keep her away from here then.”

“Why?” he inquired, jumping slightly as she nipped his earlobe.

Smiling, she pulled back to look at his face.  His eyes were dark and hooded, his jaw tight.  She ran her fingernails up his ribcage, giggling when he squirmed beneath her, ticklish.  To torment him further, she settled into his lap, a dark thrill running through her as his erection pressed against the apex of her thighs.

“Because it means I have you all to myself.”  Bending, she swept her tongue across his lips so quickly he didn’t have a chance to respond.  “Does Ron know you’re wearing these trousers?”

“What has that got to do with anything?” he retorted.  He’s getting testy.  Good.

“I like leather.”

“And...?”

“Hermione knows that leather is one of my...turn-ons.”  She wiggled her hips, moving along his thighs.  He moved his hands from her hair to her waist, pinning her against himself.  Involuntarily arching into him, she hissed, “And I think Ron overheard me telling her about it.”

“Mmm, so let’s hope they don’t return for a long while,” Harry replied, pressing his lips to the skin exposed above the collar of her shirt.  “A fetish for you?”

“Yes,” she gasped.  Harry tangled one hand back in her hair, pulling her head back, and used the other to unbutton her shirt.

“So,” he began, his lips kissing the skin he exposed with each button, “have you...dreamt about me...dressed in leather?”

Thank God I’m not wearing a skirt, she thought after that question.  At least trousers give me a chance at hiding my arousal a while longer.  Since that kiss on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, she had used the image of a leather-clad Harry to fuel her fantasies of him.  Well, either leather or his Quidditch uniform – or just the leather guards of his Quidditch uniform.

“Maybe,” she replied coyly, moving her hands to his back and tracing random patterns with her fingernails.

He chuckled, making her gasp again.  Heat that had nothing to do with the oppressive air outside was coiling within her.  “So if I hadn’t been wearing these trousers, you would never have looked at me as if you would gladly devour me?”

Robbed of speech, she merely shook her head.  Harry parted her shirt with one hand, skimming that hand along her stomach and ribcage as he did.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you?” he rasped, releasing her hair to run his hands down her arms, sliding off her shirt.  She let her arms fall to the side as he lay her back to press a kiss to her stomach.

He’s wanted me?  She was stunned.  The first she’d realized that he might return her feelings of nearly seven long years had been that kiss.

“How – how long?”

“Two years.”

She sat up to look him in the eye.  “Two years?” she whispered.

He nodded, that wicked grin toying with his mouth again and asked, “You didn’t know?”  She shook her head.  His grin broadened.  “Ron kept my secret.”

“Wait a minute,” she began.  “My brother knew you were crushing on me?”

He had the decency to look sheepish.  “Um...yeah?”

Ginny wasn’t sure if she should torment him with her newfound knowledge or not.  Before she could make up her mind, he slid a hand into her hair again and brought her head down to press his lips to hers.  Using his tongue, he pried open her mouth and tasted her.  All thought of denying him anything left her head.

When he released her mouth, she let her head fall onto his shoulder.

“Ginny?” he asked softly, rubbing her back with both hands.

“Yes, Harry?”

“Do you want to move into the bedroom?”

She felt the heat from his blush and the tenseness in his body.  Am I ready for this?  Yes, she’d had a crush on him for a while that had turned to love, which she sublimated.  Yes, he’d just told her he had a crush on her.  And, if the erection in those damned leather trousers was any indication, he desperately wanted her.  But am I ready?

She kissed her way up his neck, up his jaw, to his mouth.  Lips still against his, she asked, “Are you ready?”

As a response, he gave her a bruising kiss while pressing her against him and nudging against her sex.  She pulled her mouth free so she could gasp.  It felt as if fire were lancing through her where they touched.  Looking down into his eyes, she saw desire reflected back.  Hesitantly, she nodded her assent.

Relief flickered across his face so quickly, she wasn’t sure if she had really seen it.  He pulled her head down to press a brief kiss to her forehead.  Once he let her go, she stood shakily.  Harry reached out to steady her as he stood, then slid his hand down her arm to take her hand.

Ginny grasped Harry’s hand tightly.  Arousal and nervousness warred within her.  When she’d arrived, her intention had been merely to allay boredom.  Now she was following Harry into his bedroom.

She watched the way those leather trousers hugged his thighs and arse as he walked, and bit her lip to stop the whimper that threatened to escape.  He quickly drew her into his room, shutting the door behind her.

He pressed her against the door with his body.  His exposed skin was slightly damp with sweat, his erection still digging into her stomach.  He reached for her hands and held them above her head.  Despite the apparent helplessness of the situation, it was arousing her further.  Maybe because I’ve let him take control.  Do I want it back?  She thought for a moment, then answered herself with a no.

“Ginny,” Harry growled.  “Are you really ready for this?”

She nodded without hesitation, twisting within his grasp to wiggle against him.  He sucked his breath in as if hurt and hissed, “Stop.”

Smiling, she asked, “Why?”

Bringing his gaze back to hers, she saw the heat flare within them when he answered, “You have me hot and bothered and I’d rather not come in my trousers.”

Ginny suspected that the melting pleasure within her was an age-old female secret borne in the knowledge that feeling an aroused man pressed to you – and knowing you’re the reason he’s aroused – stirs something deep and primal.  There was something savage welling within her that she suspected Harry might be able to let out.

Harry drew her hands down and between them, then began walking backwards to his bed.  Just as with the sofa, his knees hit the edge and he fell.  Unlike before, Ginny fell on top of him.  He rolled her underneath and, bracing himself on his elbows, looked into her face.  His expression was enraptured.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he whispered.

She felt the heat rise on her cheeks and knew she was on her way to an infamous Weasley blush.  Rather than accept or deny his statement, she countered, “Do you know how sexy you are?”

He reacted as she expected:  startled, then pleased.  “I am?”

She nodded, a smile curving her mouth.  Bending his head, he placed a light kiss to her mouth.  She slid her hands up his back and into his hair, pressing his head to hers and holding the kiss.

When they broke apart, he was looking down at her questioningly.  “Ginny, don’t get angry for the question, but I need to know.”  He paused, suddenly nervous.  Though she had no idea what could make him nervous now, she nodded for him to continue.  She watched his tongue run over his lips and did her best not to moan.  “Are you a virgin?”

Well, that’s not the question I expected, she thought.  Then again, I don’t know what I expected.  “Why would I get angry?”

“I don’t know, but it just seems like a question that would make a woman angry.”  She smiled at the confusion in his voice before he demanded, “Well?”

Blushing again, she replied shyly, “Yes.”  She was amused when he seemed relieved.  Curious, she asked, “Are you?”  In response, his blush rivaled hers and he ducked his head.  Smiling, she continued, “Should I take that for an answer?”

“I am,” he answered quietly.

Teasing, she said, “So those rumors about you and Draco in the Astronomy Tower weren’t true?”

Harry’s mouth dropped open in shock before his blush darkened to a violent shade of red.  “What?”

Ginny giggled.  “If you could see the look on your face!”

“You evil wench,” Harry sputtered.

“Mmm,” she murmured, running her hands down his back to his waist.  “You seem to like it.”

With a shudder, he sat up suddenly.  Her hands fell to the sides.  Glancing quickly at her face, then moving his eyes down, his fingers began unfastening her trousers.  Stomach twitching with nerves and excitement, Ginny watched him.

His head was bent in concentration, a lock of hair falling over his forehead.  She wanted to reach up and brush it away, but he looked as on edge as a woodland creature – as if any sudden movement would scare him off.

Once he undid the fastenings, she lifted her hips so he could pull them off.  He climbed backwards off the bed and tugged them down, realizing too late her shoes were still on.  Several curses later – and more giggling from Ginny – her shoes and trousers were off.

He stood between her knees looking down at her with an expression she thought would ignite her skin.

She suddenly began to feel embarrassed and self-conscious under his close scrutiny.  She knew she was too thin, especially when compared to Hermione or even the other members of her family, all of whom looked healthy.  She knew she looked like she’d been ill for a long time.  That’s not so far from the truth, with all the worrying I’ve done about Harry for so long.  She couldn’t take his scrutiny anymore and sat up.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.

“Harry, there’s no need to pretend,” she began, but was interrupted before she could continue.

“Pretend about what?”

“That I’m attractive.”

He looked like he’d been slapped.  Then his jaw dropped.  “What?” he demanded in a hoarse whisper.

“I’m not attractive.  I know I’m not.”

Harry dropped to his knees in front of her, hands on her bare thighs.  “Ginny, I don’t know what fucking idiot told you that, but they’re wrong.  Bloody wrong.”

She brought her eyes to his.  The profanity didn’t faze her – not after six older brothers – but the sincerity she heard behind the words made her study his face.  His eyes were glowing with passion, both the sexual desire that had been there all evening but also a fervent belief in what he was telling her.

“I’m too thin,” she protested.

He scoffed.  “Ginny, if I didn’t find you attractive, I wouldn’t have had wet dreams about you for more than a year.”

Now it was Ginny’s turn for her jaw to drop.  Wet dreams...about me?  “Really?” she squeaked.

Despite the blush coloring his cheeks at his unexpected honesty, that wicked smile turned one side of his mouth again.  “Hell, yes.”  He climbed up onto the bed, forcing her back as he crawled forward.  “You have driven me out of my mind.”  He lowered himself onto her body, and the feel of the butter-soft leather against her inner thighs igniting her desire again.

“I have?” she teased.  She was no longer feeling like an ugly duckling.  Seeing the way Harry’s desire for her was etched into his face and in the tenseness of his body – as well as the impressive erection cradled against her lower belly – was making her feel sexy.

He dropped his head to press kisses to her collarbones.  “Of course you have.”  He moved lower to the cleavage between the cups of her bra.  “It was awful trying to keep my mind on the game during Quidditch practices, seeing you riding and caressing your broom and wishing it was me between your legs.”

Heat flashed through her at his words.  “Oh, God, Harry,” she moaned, arching herself against him.  The image he had put in her mind further dampened her knickers.

Turnabout is fair play.  When she had her voice back, she threaded her fingers through his hair and, smiling, replied, “I have to admit to watching your arse in those tight Quidditch trousers.  Seeing you in your Quidditch uniform always got me hot and bothered.  Especially the leather.”

He moaned in reply, much as she had, pressing his erection into her hip.  “Ginny, don’t talk like that   I really don’t want to come in these trousers.”

Taking a deep breath, she said hurriedly, “So take them off.”

He lifted his head from her chest and looked up at her.  She brushed that lock of hair off his forehead, tangling her fingers in his hair.  His eyes were so dark now, they were more black than green, and burning.  Black lashes swept down, shielding his expression for a moment, then back up, allowing his gaze to pierce her.

“You sure?”

She nodded quickly.  She’d seen naked men – again, with six older brothers she could hardly have reached seventeen without seeing one –  but never one aroused.

Taking a deep breath, he removed her hand from his head and maneuvered off the bed again.  Ginny turned on her side and propped her head in her hand, watching him.

His fingers went to the zipper at his hip.

“Where did you get those trousers?” she asked, suddenly curious.

“Hermione found them.”

She began grinning.  “Hermione found you a pair of butter-soft, fit-like-a-second-skin leather trousers without you?”

This time his blush began at his collarbones.  “I might have been with her,” he mumbled.

“And what did Hermione buy?” Ginny asked between peals of laughter.

“A miniskirt, I think.”  Both hands on his hips, he glared at her as she continued to laugh.  “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Just the image of you two shopping for leather,” she snorted.

Harry was quiet for so long, Ginny regained control of herself.  When she looked at him again, his eyes weren’t on her face.

“When you laugh, you jiggle,” he commented hoarsely.

“I what?”

A mischievous grin decorated his mouth this time.  “Jiggle.”  Then his fingers went back to the zipper.

Mouth dry, her attention was suddenly riveted to the way those fingers, those lovely long fingers with their stubby nails and broom calluses, slid the silver zipper down his hip.

“Off?” he asked, his voice threaded with nervousness and arousal.

She traced her lips with her tongue.  She’d never thought that an evening with Harry would be so full of amusement, sexual innuendo and sex.  Even her dreams and fantasies were usually straight to the sex.  She didn’t expect him to have such a wicked streak of delicious torment.

Without answering him, she moved until she was kneeling on the bed, raking his body with her eyes, devouring the view of his Quidditch-muscled chest and arms.  Biting her bottom lip, she reached behind her back and undid the clasp to her bra.  He was watching her movements unblinkingly.  Sliding her hands to the front, she held them over her breasts, then shrugged her shoulders, allowing the straps to fall.

“Yes,” she finally replied.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed audibly.  With a deep breath, he peeled the trousers off.

“Oh my,” Ginny breathed.  He was wearing nothing underneath.  I know that’s supposed to fit...but, holy Merlin, how?  Her hands fell to her sides in her shock, dropping her bra onto the bed.

“Are you okay, Ginny?”  Harry hurried to the edge of the bed.  She blinked and raised her eyes to his face.

A lascivious grin spread across her face as she watched him crawl back onto the bed.  She moved back as he advanced until she was up against the wall.  “Mmm,” she murmured.  “Are you sure that will fit?”

“What?”  That obviously wasn’t what he’d been expecting her to ask.  She watched realization dawn in the slight widening of his eyes and faint blush, before he licked his lips and moved closer.  “Oh, I think we can manage something.”

She willed herself not to give into her nerves as he grabbed her legs and pulled her down until she lay flat on the bed.  When he lowered himself against her, that fire she had felt earlier flashed through her again.  Her hands found their way to his back, scratching random patterns against his skin.

As he skimmed his hands up her legs, he placed light kisses to her neck.  “Can I take your knickers off?”

She tried to reply, but couldn’t seem to get the words around the lump in her throat.  Arching her hips off the bed, she nodded.

Almost reverently, he slipped a hand under each side and pushed them down.  Though he slowed as her sex was revealed, he managed to pull them off and throw them aside quickly enough.

“You’re red there, too,” he whispered reverently.

Propping herself on her elbows, she gave him a withering glare.  “What did you think would be there?”

Cutting his eyes back to hers, he stammered, “I-I-I don’t know what I thought.”

“Haven’t you ever seen Ron?”

“Yeah, but – I didn’t think – wait, no, I wasn’t looking!”

“I didn’t think you were, Harry,” Ginny said gently.  “You don’t play for the other team.”  He chuckled a bit at that.

“Come here,” she invited, holding one arm out.  He moved his knees between hers and lowered himself onto her again.

This is so much different nude than with clothes on, Ginny thought to herself.  Of course it is!  But it feels so good.

Rather than bending to kiss her mouth, however, he drew one nipple into his mouth and sucked gently.  Ginny arched her back, pressing herself upward.  It felt like an electric jolt racing through her body at first contact.

Harry groaned, and began to press his erection into her thigh.  If she concentrated – which was difficult with what he was doing to her breasts – she could feel it throbbing with his heartbeat.  He dragged his tongue over her skin to lavish her other breast with the same attention.

She tangled one hand in his hair, holding his mouth on her, encouraging him to continue.  When one of his hands skimmed down over her stomach, she whimpered and clutched at the blanket.  Hesitantly, he slipped his hand lower, sliding his index finger over her as he drew her nipple deeper into his mouth.

“Harry,” she moaned hoarsely.  Very different from touching myself.  “Oh, God, Harry.”

He lifted his head.  Swallowing audibly, he growled, “Ginny, I can’t take much more,” as he pressed himself into her thigh again.  Only then did she become aware of the dampness on her skin from his erection.

Nerves warred within her.  She knew what she was doing –  knew she wanted to do it – but suddenly she felt overcome with something akin to stage fright.  Should I be doing this?  But it’s Harry – and she looked up at him and saw his eyes shut tightly, his jaw clenched, breathing heavily – and you’ve wanted him for a long time.  But it’s your virginity.  You can’t get it back.

Licking her lips and taking a deep breath, she spread her legs.  “Then do it.”

He opened his eyes, blinking uncertainly.  She nodded.  His shoulders dropped slightly in relief as he moved between her legs, bracing himself on his hands.

Without finesse, he thrust forward.

“Ouch!” she cried.  He had thrust against her leg.  “Don’t act like a Bludger.”

He laughed as if he were in pain.  Reaching down, she wrapped her hand around him.  He probably is in pain.  Ooh, this is going to hurt.  Slowly, she guided him to her entrance.  Looking up at him, she saw that sweat had beaded on his forehead, framing the look of concentration that had returned to his face.

“Fast or slow, Ginny?” he demanded between gritted teeth.

“Fast,” she replied.  Almost before she finished the word, he slid his full length into her.  While it didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would, pain still rocketed through her from where they were joined.

Harry was entirely inside her and trembling with the effort it took to not move.  Experimentally, he withdrew then thrust again.  She whimpered in pain, though it had lessened.

“Ginny,” he hissed as he dropped his head to her shoulder.  “I’ve got to move.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

Sighing, he began to move within her.  With the third thrust, she realized she didn’t hurt as much.  By the sixth, the pleasure she had felt before he entered had begun to flicker through her again.

But just when she began to enjoy what he was doing, Harry groaned and cried, “Oh, Ginny,” before slammed into her four or five times in quick succession.  She felt warmth flood her, then the tension leave Harry.

He collapsed onto his forearms, barely holding himself above her.  She ran her eyes over his face, both pleased she could give him that pleasure – his first – but highly disappointed – and a little annoyed – she hadn’t received the same.

Wrapping his arms around her, he rolled onto his back.  As he did so, his spent erection slipped out of her.

“Messy,” she said, not sure if it was good or bad.  “Didn’t expect it to be messy.”

He opened his eyes and smiled.  His eyes were no longer the almost-black green they had darkened to; they were close to their original emerald color again.  “I knew it would be messy.”

“Of course you did, with your wealth of experience.”  He chuckled and ran his hands down her back.  “Now when do I get mine?”

“Yours, woman?”

“Mine.  You aren’t cheating me, Potter.”

“Your what, Weasley?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about, you prat.”

He grinned and shoved her off him and back onto the mattress.  Shifting to his side, he quickly ran his fingers over her stomach and down.  She hissed and arched toward his fingers.  With a sinister laugh, he moved them further toward her center, but not to their goal.

With a frustrated snarl, she grabbed his hand and moved it where she wanted it.  As his fingers found her center and began to stroke her, he bent his head to her breast again.  Her arms fell to her sides, limp, as pleasure burned through her; jolts of it made her toes curl and nipples harden.

Harry released her nipple with a soft pop and whispered harshly in her ear, “Come for me.”

That pushed her over the edge.  Arching her hips high and crying out Harry’s name, Ginny came.  She imagined it would have been nicer to come with Harry inside her, but it was still better with him than alone.

When she couldn’t take any more sensation, she pulled his hand away and lay there panting.  Her muscles were limp and she felt very relaxed.

“Did you get yours, Weasley?” he teased.

“Mostly.”

“Mostly?”  He sounded outraged.

Smiling, she looked over at him.  “I’m sleepy.”

“You aren’t going to answer, are you?” he asked shrewdly.  She merely smiled and closed her eyes.

Harry pressed a kiss to her temple and pulled a sheet over both of them.

Ginny awoke in the dark to an annoyed male voice stating, “I know they’re here somewhere.”

“Ron, leave them alone.”

“But Hermione, her shirt – my sister’s shirt – was in the living room.”

She noticed then that she was spooned against Harry and he was hard again.  She wiggled her backside and was rewarded with a hiss and his arm around her waist, pinning her tight as he pulled the sheet up.

“Quiet, wench,” he rumbled in her ear.

There were sounds of a scuffle outside Harry’s door.  Hermione said, “Don’t do it, Ron,” just as the door crashed open.

Ginny met her brother’s glare temper for temper.  She was at a disadvantage, though, because Harry’s free hand was snaked under her and idly scratching patterns into her lower belly.

Hermione’s eyes surveyed the room.  A wicked smirk graced her face when she spotted the leather trousers next to the bed.

“Do they do the trick, Harry?” she asked, greatly amused.

“Hell, yes,” he answered, sounding pleased.

She nodded, grabbed Ron’s arm and dragged him from the room.  His loud protests were cut off by Hermione closing the door behind them.

Ginny blinked.  What just happened here?

She spun in Harry’s arms so she could face him.  He was grinning unrepentantly.

“Hermione helped you buy those deliberately for me?”  He nodded and cradled himself against her closed thighs.  “How did you know I’d visit tonight?”

“I didn’t.  Tonight was the first time I’d tried them on.”

She blinked stupidly at him for a moment before snickering, then giggling, then full out laughing.

“That would explain why you were so disheveled when I arrived.”

He made a noise in the back of his throat that could have meant anything before rolling her underneath him again and sliding slowly inside her.  “I think you’ll find you have other things to keep you busy than thinking.”

“Really?” she gasped.

“Yes,” he promised as he bent down to capture her mouth in a kiss.