The Wedding (Previously posted under author Luisa)

Ron’s hands found Hermione’s waist, and he inwardly marveled at how smooth her skin was. His large palms were calloused with the work they had been doing for so many long weeks, and he felt as though he didn’t deserve to touch Hermione’s silk-like skin with hands like that. She didn’t seem to mind, however, but allowed him to pull her naked body onto his. Ron moaned when Hermione’s nipples made contact with his chest, followed by her fleshy breasts and her warm stomach. One of her long, slim, shapely thighs found its way to rest in vee between his legs, pushing ever so slightly against his erection. Ron couldn’t remember ever feeling better, no, never. Not when he had helped lead the Gryffindor Quidditch Team to a Cup victory, not when he had managed to pass his Apparation test, not even when he had finally found out that Ginny had survived her experience in the Chamber of Secrets. No, this moment, here, with his Hermione…this was perfect.



On top of him, Hermione was reveling in much of the same feelings as Ron. His hard, smooth chest pressed against her, and one of his muscled legs was slowly pumping, up and down and back and forth, in between her legs. She could feel the friction begin to give away as she became more and more wet, and she pulled back, a little embarrassed.



Ron groaned his disapproval and opened one eye. “’Mione,” he said pleadingly, a bit of a whine to his voice. “Why’d you stop? I love kissing you, it’s brilliant…”



Hermione giggled. Never before had she felt so flattered, or accepted, or wanted, or even loved, and her embarrassment vanished. She realized that she was incredibly—dare she think it?--horny, and Ron’s naked physique beneath her was only increasing that naughty feeling. At that precise moment, Ron shifted his weight to make himself a little more comfortable, causing his throbbing hard to slip slightly and press directly on Hermione’s clit.



A small “oh!” was all Hermione could muster, she was too busy thrusting her hips forward, body and mind begging for more of Ron’s touch. Her back was arched and her head thrown back, and Ron took advantage of her position. He reached forward and took both of her breasts in his hands, squeezing firmly before taking her hard brown nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Again came the small breathy gasp: “Oh, Ron, oh...”



Arching his back and gritting his teeth, Ron knew that he couldn’t take it anymore. I’m going to blow my load all over those perfect tits of hers before we even gets to the good part, especially if she keeps making that little sound that drives me fucking bonkers, he thought to himself. In a swift and fluid movement, he repositioned them so that Hermione was flat on her back, her curly brown hair spreading across his pillows and reminding him for all the world of autumn at Hogwarts.



Hermione was circling her hips on the bed, looking as though she were physically begging for Ron to enter her. Ron was more than happy to oblige, but wanted to make sure once more that this is what she really wanted. “’Mione. Are you sure?”



She knew what he was asking about. Unable to speak due to the fact that her throat was filled with emotion—love, longing, excitement, arousal, and so many others—she nodded. Placing one hand on Ron’s waist and the other on his throbbing cock (here he gave a slightly more audible moan), she guided him to her waiting entrance.



When they first made contact, they both threw their heads back. Ron had prepared himself for her velvety wetness, but nothing could have made him think that she would have felt this good against the head of his erection. Hermione could feel it throbbing, smooth and powerful, and knew that she wanted this more than anything else in the world. She knew that when he began to enter her, it would hurt, but she didn’t care.



“Ron…Ron please, I can’t take it anymore…”



Slowly, almost painstakingly, Ron pushed the tip of his cock into her. She gasped as she felt it stretch, but pushed hard on Ron’s back, causing him to plunge in his entire length. He felt her fingers tighten, her nails grazing the top of his buttocks, and he looked at her face, almost frightened.



Her eyes were screwed up as though she were concentrating on a particulary difficult spell or charm. Her expression and features softened, however, after Ron gave the slightest push with his hips.



“Oh! Merlin…” Her breathing became quicker, harder, and he felt her foot slide up the length of his leg, stopping to rest at the crook behind his knee. He took this as a sign to keep going, and did so willingly.



He went slowly at first, in and out, savoring the way she felt around him. It was tight around him, gripping every inch of his manhood as he began to build up speed. Her breath became faster and more shallow, and she slid her hands down his back to rest on his bottom. She pushed, indicating the speed she would like him to go, and soon the bed springs were causing such a commotion that they would have surely been caught, had Hermione not thought to cast the protective silencing charm around them.



“Oh, Merlin, Hermione,” Ron quite yelled, pulling back to rest on his haunches. This allowed him to double the speed of his thrusts while also giving him quite a view. Hermione’s hips were bucking, her lower torso lifting off the bed to meet every push of Ron’s. One hand was on her own breast, squeezing it and letting her fingers glide over her puckered nipple. Ron reached out and grabbed the other one, rolling it’s nipple between his fingers before giving a small pinch. Moaning, Hermione arched her back, her milky breast filling his hand. One of her hands had moved from her own breast to his bottom once more, pushing him, egging him on, physically pleading for him to go harder, faster, deeper.



Ron had to restrain himself from cumming right then and there when he realized where her other hand had gone. She was furiously rubbing her clit in small, tight, circles, adding to the sensation of his hard cock pumping in and out.



“Oh, fuck, Ron…you’re gonna make me cum…”



Ron’s thrusts quicked even more, he was pumping harder than ever into her wetness. He pulled his mouth away from where it had been surrounding one of her nipples: “Shit, Hermione, don’t talk like that unless you want me to just explode,” he grunted. If she heard him, however, she didn’t take heed of his warning.



With her back curved and both hands grasping her breasts, Hermione thrust back as hard as she could, pushing herself into Ron. “Oh, Ron, yes…ooh, Ron….Merlin, Ron, fuck…”



With that, Ron had no choice. He pulled out and with a half grunt-half moan, he ejaculated on Hermione. Some of it landed on her stomach, but most landed on her heaving breasts. His fears that she wouldn’t like it subsided, however, when she positively screamed: “Oh, yes, Ron, I’m cumming!”



Moaning and gasping and pulsating her hips, Hermione’s orgasm lasted what seemed like an eternity. Ron was quite proud of himself: Well, brilliant, Ronald, not so bad for your first time, eh? You’re gearing up to become quite the sex machine. He smiled at his thoughts, causing Hermione to ask what was so funny.



“Nothing, ‘Mione. That was just…perfect. Wonderful. Brilliant. Fucking amazing.” Realizing how tired he was, he collapsed, his head coming to rest on Hermione’s shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him, smiling, and the two of them fell into what would be remembered as the best night of sleep either of them had ever gotten.



-*-



Miles away, Draco Malfoy was raging. “What the bloody hell do you mean, you fucking maniac! I’m NOT Confunded, I have NEVER been Imperiused, and I certainly WANTED to kill Dumbledore, no matter what you say!”



“Draco.” The oily voice that he had once respected made hate course through his veins. “You are not listening to me. If you would only drink this, please, you will understand my story.”



“I’m not drinking anything you give me. For all I know, you’re poisoning me. I’m not going to allow you to feed me lies about my mother and father, I’m not. We are faithful to the Dark Lord, no matter what you say.”



Snape was annoyingly pacing the length of the cave. “For the last time, Draco, please, listen. Do not cause me to loose my temper, because you will definitely not like it. Now, you need to get a few thing straight. Your father, Lucius Malfoy, has never been faithful to the Dark Lord. Neither have I. In the beginning, he was one of the most ruthless fighters of the Dark Lord’s uprising, but chose to kept it a secret, fearing for his family and his newborn son. the Dark Lord knew, however, of Lucius’ plans to defeat him, and in one terrible, dreadful night, he captured your father. He felt as though Lucius’ standing as a wizard would give him a helpful leg up once he began to conquer the Ministry and then, eventually, the Wizarding World. He gave one of his Death Eaters the task of parading as your father, taking Polyjuice Potion during the day, everyday. Your mother was threatened with her life, as well as the life of her child, if she tried to do anything about the situation. You were Confunded at an early age, and your memories of your father were blurred. If you think, hard, you might be able to find them, Draco, but now is not the time. I would have told you myself…but my job as a double-agent between Dumbledore and the Dark Lord and his followers required that I not. Dumbledore knew that there would be a time to tell you the truth, and he was right. Your father is a prisoner, being kept alive only for the Dark Lord’s need of ingredients for the potion. Where he is, I do not know, but your mother is being kept safe, thanks to the protection of the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore’s memories have convinced them that what I tell you is the truth, and you must believe me as well, Draco. You have been under the Imperius Curse many times in your life, moments when you felt as though the dark path your ‘father’ was leading you down was wrong. You have been tricked into thinking that you belong with the Death Eaters and alongside the Dark Lord, but I tell you, you do not.”



Draco, in spite of himself, was beginning to recollect. He could faintly remember a few times in his childhood and teenage years in which he didn’t quite like the lessons his father was teaching. And now he understood why his mother seemed to hate his father so…could it truly be because he was not the man that she had married? He didn’t want to believe Snape yet, no, not yet, so he clung to his last bit of defiance:



“What about Dumbledore? I wanted to kill him, I almost thirsted for it.”



“No, Draco. You did not. You and I both know it, all though you do not have to admit it to me. Dumbledore was an old man, dying for reasons that you could not hope to understand. I myself do not understand, though I pleaded with him many times…however, the Dark Lord was using you. You were a tool with which to torture your mother and father. He did not expect you to succeed, and if you had, he would have killed you anyway. This is why it is imperative that you believe me—if you were to go running after him, you would certainly die.”



Draco’s head was swimming. No. No, goddamnit, no. This isn’t true, it isn’t real. There is no way that everything I know is just a…a lie.



But he knew. Draco Malfoy knew.



He sat, pulling his knees to his chest. The sobs came, and he did not stop them. He could feel it in the back of his mind, what Snape was saying was the truth.



“So what? Now what do I do?” He asked, once he had regained his composure.



“You fight, Draco. You fight.”



Author’s Note:

I hope you have enjoyed so far! Please let me know what you like and don’t like, the only way I can make you happy is if you little pretties review, review, review!! =)