She leant in to him, her hair brushing his face, her breath on his neck, the smell of her skin; scents of soap and sweet perfume. He buried his nose in her hair, breathing in her shampoo, she was clean, she was warm with the fresh glow of having left the shower only a short time ago. This is how he liked her best: cleansed and relaxed.
She shifted and brought her face to his, looking at him briefly before kissing him. Her lips pressed his firmly, he kissed back gently enjoying the motion of her mouth, her lips were soft and he enjoyed the languid movement, the effortless enjoyment she wrought from this activity. She licked his tongue with her own, slowly running her hand over his neck, up through his hair and applying pressure to deepen the kiss. His face heated, his mouth emulating her movements with enthusiasm. Her fingernails raked through his hair, he made a noise, not dissimilar to a trill, of pleasure. She responded by doing so again, only with a little more pressure. He smiled into her mouth, before moving along her cheek, to her jaw and then to the pulse point of her neck, biting, licking and sucking gently.
She shifted in order to straddle him, this brought his face just below eye level with her breasts. Her hands were on his shoulders as he dipped his mouth taking one nipple into his mouth, sucking and rolling between his teeth and tongue. Using his fingers he pinched the other and rolled that too. He felt her shake, she ground her hips to his, noticing that he was enjoying every moment of this attention as she was.
She bent her face to his ear, “please” she breathed “now”. It was his turn to shift, he reached between them, his knuckles brushed her intimately and she sighed. She lifted slightly and he positioned himself, as she lowered herself over his lap again, they both let out low moans of pleasure. She rocked against him, slow, steady, deep movements. He held her hips, applied pressure as he pushed her down, lifting his own to meet her movements.
He realised that his eyes were closed, he opened them and watched as the woman astride him frowned in concentration, it was an expression he had seen many times.
During deep conversation, whilst completing paperwork, making decisions, however none of those occasions made him smile more than when she focussed on him and him alone.
She opened her eyes and saw him gazing, her face relaxed, her eyes remained focussed, she smiled and twisted her hips and his eyes rolled, she continued and he scrunched his eyes closed, his jaw tightened with pleasure. Her hands had remained on his shoulders until this moment, she reached over, pinched his nipples and twisted her hips again. He gritted his teeth, trying not to moan any louder than necessary, it was futile and he felt himself panting as she increased her pace.
He could feel the perspiration of their exertion, his hips ached and his fingers held onto her for dear life, his thighs burning with the effort of his movements. He could feel the pressure building, the heat rising in his face as his body began to thrum with intense pleasure, a tingling rising to become a wave of hot pleasure. She moved her mouth to his ear, twisted her hips and whispered “fuck me, daddy.”
He growled in a way that was visceral, animal, he reached around her back, wrapped her curls into his fist and pulled, she moaned loudly as he acquiesced, she liked him to lose control, liked that he could hurt her, even though she knew that he was a gentle man by nature.
She laughed, a small tantalising laugh, one she emitted when she knew she had gained what she wanted, he was taking her harder and faster. She scratched his shoulders, he knew there would be deep welts there, knew that he would be marked for days. He pulled her hair, leant in and bit her throat, she gasped, almost jumping and as she did so she clamped over him, crying out. He felt a flood flow over him. Moments later she bit his neck in return, whispering his name, begging him to let go. He concentrated, her voice driving him closer until the dam broke and he came with a choked moan.
They slumped into each other, momentarily exhausted, peppering each other with gentle kisses, mouth, cheeks, forehead, neck, shoulders. They pulled back and looked at each other, both of them flushed, the perspiration cooling on their skin, they smiled at each other.
“We should get moving” he advised, she smiled again and nodded. Unseating herself from him, he reached over to the work surface behind him and grabbed his wand, wordlessly he cast a cleaning charm over them. They dressed and began leaving the shed they were in. As he opened the door a voice called “oh there you are! We thought you’d forgotten dinner!” They laughed nervously and she spoke “Sorry Mrs Weasley we were-“, “piecing together and old typewriter, Hermione here was showing me how to write letters! Isn’t that exciting?!” His enthusiasm was real and it had begun that way, until a series of accidental touches throughout the past several weeks had ignited a spark, had awoken something entirely different between them.
It began as a chaste, nervous kiss, he had been shocked, surprised that she had felt the need to do so, she had run of course and after some time, he returned to the house concerned but not upset. Whilst everyone was bustling about he had asked for a private word with her, he had a plug he was uncertain of. She had appeared anxious, perhaps afraid that he’d admonish her. On the contrary, no sooner had the shed door shut, then he closed the gap between them, moved toward her and returned her kiss from earlier with more fervour. From that point on, they kissed, touched, fucked, every opportunity they had. There was no guilt, strangely, for either of them. He was occasionally baffled as to why she wanted him, however he would never turn down such a gift, he was married, he loved his wife, but a chance to experience the brightest witch of her age as barely anybody had seen her before? Giving herself to him? Nobody would convince him not to take this chance.
He’d continue for as long as she wanted and he would be entirely grateful.