He Left Handprints on Her Heart

He Left Handprints on Her Heart- Chapter 5: Passion Rekindled

Ron stripped off all his own clothes except for his jeans before re-entering the bathroom. He knelt down beside the tub and touched her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered open at the contact. "Feel better now?"

"Um-hm. How long was I asleep?"

"A while." He leaned in to kiss her. The kiss was chaste, just a quick touching of lips. When he started to pull away, she grasped his face between her palms, pulling him back to her. She kissed him hard, pushing her tongue into his mouth when he parted his lips. She kissed him until they were both gasping for breath.

She urged him closer, and he eagerly complied, as she ran her hands up and down his bare chest. When she finally released him, there was water dripping down his front.

"I got you wet," she said.

"Thought that was supposed to be my line." He laughed when she rolled her eyes at his pathetic attempt at a come on.

He pulled her to her feet and helped her from the tub. Within moments, Hermione's hands were unfastening his jeans and sliding a hand inside to stroke his already hardening cock. He groaned at her touch, savoring the contact. It had been way too long.

"Take me to bed, Ron," she whispered, as she pressed her body against him.

He took her hand, leading her into their bedroom. Ron picked up his wand from the bedside table, walked across the room and pointed it at the fireplace. A warm, crackling fire sprang instantly to life, casting the room in an orange glow and warming it quickly. His wife sat on their bed waiting for him. He swallowed hard at how beautiful she looked, and whispered, "Lay back, Hermione."

She did as he instructed without a word, and he was across the room in strides of his long legs, standing above her. His eyes traced over every inch of her body, seeking out every curve and hollow. This pregnancy had marred her skin with stretch marks. "You're so beautiful, so perfect," he whispered.

He ran his hand over her stomach, tracing a stretch mark with his finger. She pushed his hand away. "Ron, don't. It's ugly."

"No, it's not. My baby needs room to grow inside you. Never seen you look so sexy."

"I'm sure the extra pounds add tremendously to my sex appeal," she said sarcastically.

For what felt like an eternity, neither of them spoke. Ron watched her face, never breaking eye contact. "You really don't see it, do you?"

"See what?" Her voice was quiet.

"How amazingly sexy you look."

"No. I don't see it," she lowered her eyes when she replied.

He shook his head, unsure how she could look in the same mirror he did everyday and not see how breathtaking she was.

"Ron, I'm glad you do though, see it I mean." A shy smile accompanied her statement, and he was fairly certain that there wasn’t a man alive who wouldn't have thought she was beautiful at that moment, with the shy blush spreading over her cheeks, and the orange glow of the fire reflected off her skin, with swollen lips that begged to be kissed.

He kissed her as he climbed onto the bed, eager to join her. He savored the feel of her soft lips, giving them his full attention, so preoccupied that he didn't notice when she gently eased his wand from the back pocket of his jeans. With one flick, she sent him sprawling off the bed to land rather hard; his arse made a loud thud as it made contact with the bedroom floor.

He was caught completely off guard, and his eyes blazed with anger. He was furious, and his tone reflected as much. "What the bloody hell did you do that for?" She was the one who asked him to take her to bed. He had done what she asked, only to be rejected, rather literally, by her again. A bloke could only take so much, and he was at his breaking point. He ran his hands angrily through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck, as he felt his temper flare. "I thought you wanted me to- Fuck, I don't know what you want anymore. I can't read you. I thought you liked what I was doing."

"You would think a wizard would learn not to keep his wand in the back pocket of his jeans. I think the last time you ended up tied to a chair and completely at my mercy. Did you not learn anything from that, Mr. Weasley—other than your new favorite way to eat chocolate pudding, I mean?"

He looked up at her from his seat on the floor. What the bloody hell was she talking—Oh--. As realization dawned, a grin broke out on his face. She was playing with him. Very few people knew this side of Hermione, and only he knew this side of her in the bedroom. Merlin, he had missed this even more than he realized. This was the playful and fun witch he had married, and she was a sight to behold, trying to keep a straight face from her position looking down at him on the floor. His anger at being tossed on his arse was instantly forgotten.

She gave him an impish smile, and said in her most professional voice, "I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, but you see this bed has a strict No Clothes Policy. And, while I really desire your—er, company, a rule is a rule." She waved the wand, and a sign appeared on the headboard of the bed, which read, "No clothes allowed on this bed."

"A rule, huh? I didn't realize this bed had a No Clothes Policy. Someone might have warned me before they tossed me on my arse. Don't you think, beautiful?" Ron cocked an eyebrow at her.

He could tell she was trying hard to keep a straight face, but the impulse to smile was winning out. "It's a new rule," she said pointing at the sign nonchalantly. "And sir, are you flirting with me?" She used a voice that attempted to sound scandalized, but broke into a fit of giggles, at the look on his face.

He was crawling toward the bed, smiling at her, "I don't see a sign that forbids flirting."

"Sir, I am a married woman," she once again attempted to look annoyed at his unwelcome advances, sticking her nose haughtily into the air, but ruining the effect by holding her breath to keep from laughing.

"What kind of bloke would marry a cheeky little thing like you?"

"Yes, well he's not the brightest--"

Idiot was right! He had walked right into that one. "Oy, woman. Watch it."

"You didn't let me finish, sir. You see my husband is incredibly handsome."

"That's better."

"But he's certainly brighter than you because he would already have his clothes off and be getting his reward. You see, good boys who follow the rules get generously rewarded here, Mr. Weasley."

"A reward?"

"Oh, a very special reward."

"I do like receiving rewards," he said, winking at her.

"And I do think I will like giving it to you."

She moved to sit at the edge of the bed. He was out of his clothes quickly. She wrapped her arms around his waist when he came to stand between her knees, looking up to meet his eyes. They both laughed.

He grinned down at her, "You know, if I have a bruise on my bum tomorrow—"

"Then I'll kiss it and make it all better."

He laughed. "I don't think so. As I was saying, if there's a bruise on my bum, I plan to turn you over my knee and give you one to match."

She pushed her bottom lip out in a mock pout, then leaned over and licked the sensitive tip of his cock. Bugger it all. If she did that again she was going to be seriously disappointed tonight. He grasped her by the shoulders and pushed her back gently, so she was unable to reach him, put a hand under her chin and forced her to look up at him.

"Don't. As much as I love it, if you do it again, this will be over far too soon."

"I want you, Ron."

"I'm yours."

And, he was.

He stood there beside their bed all muscle, red hair and freckles. The light from the fire cast a warm glow on his skin, illuminating the contours and strong lines of his incredibly masculine body. He lay down beside her, capturing her lips, teasing his tongue in and out of her mouth, as his hands caressed her body, touching everywhere he could reach. "Tell me what you want, 'Mione. I'll do anything you want."

"Kiss me again."

"Gladly."

She placed little kisses on his chin, jaw and neck, working her way around to his ear to lick and tug at the lobe with her teeth, causing him to groan and swear. "Love me, Ron." Her words were little more than a whisper in his ear.

He wanted to watch her come undone when he touched her, make her scream, do things to her body that would leave her trembling in his arms. He trailed kisses along her jaw and down her neck. "I think I've loved you since I was eleven, Hermione." He twisted his hand into her hair, pulling her head back, as he sucked the hollow at the base of her throat. He ran his hands over her body, palming her breasts. She arched her back, pressing her pregnancy-swollen breasts more firmly into his hands. He groaned and began to squeeze them. "Love you, baby."

"Merlin, Ron, that feels good."

He knew her nipples were extremely sensitive from the pregnant, and he pinched them hard several times making her gasp. He sucked one nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it in slow circles. "You like that?" Her response was somewhere between a whimper and a moan, but the look on her face told him what he wanted to know. "I know you do. You love it when I suck on your tits."

She stroked his hair as he continued to tease her with his tongue. "Ron, fuck me. I want you right now."

He grew still. She was playing dirty. Hermione rarely spoke the deliciously naughty words that he loved to hear her say. When she did, however, it drove him wild, and she knew it. There was nothing he loved more than to watch her lose control, to know she trusted him enough to completely abandon all reservations in his arms, as she whispered all the things she wanted him to do to her; things she would never say to anyone else. It took all his resolve not to take her right then.

She hissed through clenched teeth, as he bit down on her nipple and rolled it between his teeth. "Ron, please." The urgency in her voice spoke volumes.

"Get on your hands and knees, baby."

He knew what she expected. She gasped with surprise when he flipped onto his back and slid his face beneath her and between her knees. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and pulled her down to his mouth, holding her there. He spread open her folds with his free hand, allowing his tongue access to her most sensitive spots.

"You are so wet," he said as he stroked up and down her outer folds with his finger. He loved that no one but him had ever touched her this way. His finger was followed quickly by his tongue licking her up and down with long, slow strokes, as his nose occasionally bumped against her clit, making her cry out each time it did. In a matter of minutes Ron's tongue had her pleading for more. He could feel her legs shaking, but he continued licking, showing no mercy. Whenever he found a particularly sensitive spot with his tongue, one that made her cry out, he would lick it over and over again. He could tell she was close. A few well placed licks and strokes, and her whole body was trembling. She came hard and fast, screaming his name.

Ron had never seen her have such an intense orgasm. His arm was still around her waist and he held her firmly where she was, refusing to allow her to shift her position. "Not done with you yet, baby. Gonna make you scream again."

She was still breathless and trembling. "Ron, I don't think I can—I've never-- I'm not sure—" Before she could say anything more, Ron's touched her clit with his tongue and heard her squeal. He held her tightly and began to pinch the incredibly sensitive little nub as he tongued her.

Her breathing was hard and fast. "Ron, I want you inside of me. Please, Ron. I'm begging you, baby." Her voice sounded desperate.

He released her waist. "No need to beg, love." His cock was so hard he wasn't sure how much longer he could have lasted. He wanted to be inside her, and he was sure it was only going to take a few strokes before he exploded.

As soon as the head of his cock touched her, she thrust her hips, pushing him deeply inside her. He heard her cry out as he filled her. It was not a cry of pleasure, however, it was one of pain. "Hermione, are you okay? Am I hurting you?" He had been gone during the last months of her first pregnancy. He hadn't thought, before now that he might hurt her.

"No, it's fine. I'm fine," she moaned. She rocked her hips back against him, pushing him farther inside of her with every thrust. He let her set the pace to ensure he wasn't too rough or went too deeply. He could tell she was growing inpatient at his lack of movement.

"I want you to drive your cock into me so hard and fast, that I feel every inch of you when you explode inside me. Wanna feel you come while you're buried deep inside my cunt, baby."

The words spilling from her mouth drove him over the edge, where reason and control ceased to exist. He lost all capacity to form coherent thought when she started telling him what she wanted him to do to her, and how she wanted him to do it, using words that she wouldn't dare speak in front of anyone but him. The basest of instincts took over. He began to pound into her with long strokes, hard and fast. He rubbed her clit as she ground her hips against him. Her muscles clenched around him as she came, screaming his name. One final thrust and he was spilling inside her.

They were both too exhausted to move for a few moments. When Ron gained some capacity to speak again, his words were anxious, "Was I too rough? Did I hurt you? Merlin, Hermione, why'd you say those things? You knew I wouldn't be able to stop. What if I'd hurt you? Damn, I feel like such a fuckwit."

She stroked a hand across his cheek, smiling at him. "But you're my fuckwit, and I'm rather attached to you."

"That's not funny. I really could've hurt you. How do you think that would make me feel? I mean, what if—"

"No what ifs— I'm fine. You were amazing."

With her assurances, he relaxed somewhat. "Would never want to hurt you, you know."

"I know."

End of Chapter 5