Chapter 7
Millie had told her she’d be spending the night at Charlie’s, so Susan took full advantage and took a long bath before Ron was due, taking extra care to shave her legs and smooth a sweet-smelling lotion over her skin. She considered making dinner, but decided it felt too much like a relationship move to go through with it. Opening a bottle of wine felt less expectant, though her stomach still flipped when the knock came at the door.
In jeans and his leather jacket, Ron looked much as he had the last time he’d come through her door, but this time she knew what was to come; which was to say, her.
After offering him a drink, they found themselves orbiting each other, the tension settling over them like a fog. Like the previous time, he busied himself by flipping through her records again. She folded herself into the sofa, and waited.
He picked a soft jazzy album that had been her mother’s, and settled on the sofa beside her, his arm draped over the back as he angled himself toward her.
“I don’t even know where to start with this,” he admitted. “I wasn’t sure you’d even consider it.”
Susan took a sip of her wine to buy herself time to answer. “If it had been anyone else, or any other time… I probably wouldn’t have. But you were right. I can’t even imagine a relationship right now, but…”
He nodded, watching her thoughtfully. “But I’m a great lay,” he supplied, and they laughed, the awkwardness evaporating. She relaxed, comforted by the fact that he was still the same Ron she’d always known. The same Ron that had helped her stay on her feet their very first day at Hogwarts.
“So I guess we have to decide how to go about this,” she said slowly.
“I don’t think it needs to be more complicated than it is. No expectations, it ends if one of us has found someone or has had enough,” he said, equally slowly.
“But for now, we enjoy it.” She smiled at him, and he leaned forward, brushing her hair away from her face. His fingers trailed down her neck, and set her nerves on fire. Setting her glass aside, she shifted forward, straddling his lap.
It was freeing, to know that he was there for the same thing she was. No feelings, no “what ifs” for the future, or the fear that he would break her heart. It didn’t hurt that she knew how well he’d handled her pleasure before.
Her thighs settled on either sides of his hips, and his hands slid up under her skirt, but he let her take the lead. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she kissed him hard. He groaned, and she rolled her hips to urge him on.
“If you keep doing that, you’re getting fucked on this sofa,” he growled, and Susan nipped at his neck.
“Are you going to talk about it or do it,” she challenged, and Ron flipped her over, spreading her legs and kissing up her thighs as he knelt on the rug. He fought with her skirt and her knickers before pushing them aside and closing his lips around her clit.
Back arching, she buried her hands in his hair as he worked her to the edge of orgasm with his tongue. Again his five o’clock shadow threatened to rub her thighs raw, and she welcomed the sting. That, along with the pressure of his fingertips digging into her thighs kept her grounded.
Those two things kept her from spiraling into thoughts of before. Before the lies, before she thought the girl that would eventually broke her heart was the love of her life. Before.
She buried her hands in his hair, and let the feelings he elicited pull her away from the doubt and fear that had held her prisoner for so long. Surrendering to him with the taste of wine on her lips and the jazz on the record player, she allowed herself to stop thinking, and just feel.