Clean

The First Time

Chapter 5: The First Time

Ron gaped at her limply, limbs dangling.

Hermione instantly regretted being so forward; she covered herself awkwardly, the seconds ticking by loudly as she waited for a response.

"So . . . are you . . . er," she started. "Ready?"

He swallowed. "I just – " he rasped out. "I just don't know what to do . . . you know. I don't know what to do with my . . . my hands?"

She made a face. "Are you asking me?"

"No, I just – " he laughed. "Wow, Hermione. Look at you."

He stepped forward, taking her hands. "Look at you," he whispered again.

She smiled, blushing. "Take off your clothes, Weasley."

He hurriedly complied, shedding his t-shirt first. She took in the sharp curves of his slim hips; his normal gawkiness was still present, but in the moment, his form seemed somehow willowy, graceful. She watched the slight flex in his arms as he removed his trousers, yanking them down impatiently, revealing the tented evidence of his rapid arousal underneath. Hermione cocked her head slightly, taking it in; she wasn't much of an expert in the area of male anatomy (meaning, of course, that she wasn't familiar with it at all), but she would have guessed he was sizable. His skin was creamy and marred only by a spattering of freckles across his chest.

He dropped his boxers quickly, kicking them to the side and settling into a firm, widened stance, accommodating his girth. He raked his fingers through his thick red hair, grinning sheepishly at her.

"So . . . what now?"

She let out the breath she'd been holding, waiting for him to match her in anticipation. She walked to one side of his bed, settling herself slowly on top of it and inching herself forward on both knees. "Come here," she beckoned softly.

He leapt forward, matching her movements until they were both kneeling on his bed. They faced each other without touching.

This is it, she thought. This is happening.

Abandoning her nerves, she leaned forward, catching his lips. In return, he gripped her arms, pulling her into a clumsy impact that deepened as he drew her in. She felt his teeth repeatedly knock into hers in the midst of their struggling rhythm and she winced, closing her eyes. Ron moved his hands from her arms to her waist, finally close enough to let his arms encircle her and his hands drag down her spine. His kiss was frenzied, suffocating; she placed her hands on either side of his face, trying to slow him.

His touch on her back brought her to a similar movement from earlier that evening.

Malfoy.

She shivered.

She had watched him stalk towards her with a mix of fear and excitement, knowing both that she could defend herself if she needed to, but also that he wasn't going to harm her. She could see in his captivating grey eyes some kind of madness she had never seen before. He wanted her attention, so he commanded it. He wanted to be closer to her, so he gave her no other option. He wanted her, so he took her.

She moaned into Ron's mouth, parting her legs and slipping him underneath her most sensitive spot. He eagerly complied, dragging her closer by the waist until her breasts ached from pressure against his chest.

The feel of his breath in her ear had been intoxicating; the slam of his hand behind her had brought a tormenting shudder down her spine. She was angry – furious. She felt the blood rushing in her ears as her heart pounded relentlessly. How dare he?