Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

There was only one light burning in a house tucked out of the way on the end of a dead end street. There was also a roaring fire burning in one of the many fireplaces around the house, but the sole occupant of the house didn't seem to think anything odd about it, even though it was the middle of summer and England was in the middle of one of the worst heat waves on record. The fire was charmed to stay burning, but also to keep the temperature inside the house comfortable.

Hermione sat in one of the overstuffed chairs she and Harry had bought when they moved in together, reading a book. She was dressed simply - just a short black silk robe that fell to mid-thigh and nothing else. Simplicity defined. Harry had given her the robe on her birthday a few years before, and it was now her preferred lounging outfit. Tucking a strand of her still bushy, but not quite so frizzy hair behind her ear, her eyes continually moved back and forth, following the written words. Turning the page, she looked up and sighed. It was past eleven o'clock, and Harry still wasn't home. He had owled her earlier in the evening saying that work would be taking a lot longer than expected, and to not wait up for him. As if she would even think of doing that. Whenever one of them had to work late - which was a frequent occurrence, much to their dismay - the other would wait up until they came home, an ingrained ritual burned into them from their Hogwarts days.

Shifting in the chair, she brought one leg up so that she would have a prop for the book. The erotic sensation of silk sliding against her bare flesh sent a shiver through her, and she wondered not for the first time when Harry would be home. Looking down, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that everything was still covered - her previous shifting had twisted the bottom half of her robe so it was more on the side than down the middle. Turning back to her book, she finished off two chapters before she heard the audible pop of an Apparating wizard, and felt the slight prickling of her neck whenever Harry was near. Looking up, she smiled at Harry, who looked as if he just wanted to go straight to bed.

Yawning, he saw Hermione smiling at him from one of the chairs, a book propped against her leg - her bare leg, he noted, feeling the fatigue burn away a little. Looking closer, he could tell with just one glance that she wore nothing else beneath the robe.

He wasn't tired any longer.

Her breath caught in her chest as she saw his green eyes flare as they looked over her body. An answering heat began burning within her.

He nearly groaned when he saw the desire begin to cloud her gorgeous brown eyes. "Hermione, if you keep looking at me like that, it will be morning before we even get around to 'How was your day.'"

Setting the book down, she stood and walked towards him. He realized that he was still standing in their normal Apparation spot - right in the middle of the kitchen. He could feel the desire well up within him as he watched Hermione walk towards him, the gentle sway of her hips drawing his eye down, and he nearly groaned as he saw a flash of her thigh.

She stopped right as she got within arm's reach of him. "And that's a bad thing?" she asked breathlessly.

The heat in his eyes shot up, and she could feel her nipples tighten in response.

"No," he said. Then he reached for her. She went willingly into his arms, savoring the feel of his body against hers, her silk robe and his work robes being the only thing between their bare skin. Bringing his hands up to frame her face, he floated his lips across hers, feeling her soft sigh, then took advantage of her parted lips to thrust his tongue into her mouth. Her soft whimper was lost amid the rustle of their respective robes as they leaned into each other. He had kissed her numerous times - hundreds, thousands of times, and every time, it felt as if he were kissing her for the first time, the sudden explosion of taste and sensation of something uniquely Hermione. But tonight, his need for her was a little more demanding, a little more desperate than normal. Letting his hands travel from her face and down her body, he stopped for a moment to gently cup the soft weights of her breasts in his hands, rubbing his thumbs across her nipples, then down her stomach to the loose knot holding the robe together. Yanking gently on the knot, he wasn't surprised when it came apart in his hand, leaving him free to pull the soft silk from Hermione's body.

She shivered once, not from cold, but from the intense heat as the robe pooled into a puddle of silk at her feet. She kept her eyes closed as Harry's hands moved up her body, starting on her thighs, over the soft swell of her hips, up over the small of her back, then back around to once again hold the weight of her breasts in his hands. Her head rolled back and her back arched, offering him her body.

She wasn't prepared for the sudden feeling of weightlessness of Harry picking her up, nor for the cold tiles beneath her bottom as he set her down on their kitchen counter. Her eyes flew open, meeting his, hovering directly in front of hers. "Harry...?"

He shushed her with an open-mouthed kiss that left her breathless and wanting more. "Lean back, Hermione. You'll love this, I promise."

Biting her lower lip, she did as he asked, shivering as the cold tiles came into contact with her over-heated skin. Over her body, she could see Harry's hands making quick work of his robe, leaving in him simple trousers and button-down shirt. He rubbed his thumb over her lips, groaning when her tongue playfully darted out to dance lightly across the digit. He leaned down, and instead of kissing her, he attached himself to her breast and suckled, hard and deep, without any preamble. Her back arched off the counter and her hands came up to tangle in his hair, holding him there. His right hand came up and gently rubbed circles around the nipple he wasn't suckling. Hermione whimpered, the sensations taking over her mind. She could feel her hips thrusting softly in response to Harry's rhythm, and with every movement, she could feel the hard proof of his desire for her through his clothing, the soft scratching of cotton against her skin another unexpected turn-on.

Letting go of her left breast, he paid equal attention to its twin before moving his attention away. Hermione whined softly and tried to push his head back down, but he would have none of it. He rained tiny kisses on her stomach, and she whimpered, knowing where he was going. Her legs spread in an unconscious invitation and she could hear the soft rustle of fabric as Harry moved in between her legs.

She could feel his warm breath on her thighs, and that was the only warning she had before his tongue darted forward. The first long, lazy lap of his tongue made her whimper. The second made her moan. He skillfully used his teeth, tongue, and lips to work Hermione to a fever pitch, then suddenly stopped. He shook off her hands from his head, hands that were trying to push him back, to make him give her release from the exquisite torture she was going through.

"Harry, please..." she begged.

She could hear a few more rustles of Harry's clothing, and was just about to open her eyes when he suddenly plunged into her. The tiny tingles all over her body that signaled an impending orgasm all exploded at once. She could hear a harsh scream echo in the kitchen, belatedly realizing it was her own. She rode out the crest of her orgasm, the feel of Harry still inside her prolonging the experience. Her body shivered once as she came back to earth. She could feel cloth bunched in her hands, as well as all down her legs. Opening her eyes, she saw that her legs had wrapped themselves around Harry's waist, keeping him buried deeply inside her. He was also still fully dressed. He wore a smug expression as he looked down on her.

"That's precisely what I wanted. I wanted you to come undone as soon as I got inside you," he whispered, his voice roughened by the desire he held in check.

His words caused an aftershock to rip through her body - one almost as powerful as her orgasm itself. He groaned as he felt her body tighten around him, and the desire boiled up to a flash point. Pulling out, he thrust almost lazily back in, once, twice, but by the third, it felt as if his head were going to explode.

"Hermione..."

"Yes," she hissed, her hips picking up his rhythm.

He was lost. Thrusting in and out of her madly, almost crazily, it didn't take him long to feel his release coming, and even he could tell that Hermione was on the verge of another earth-shattering climax by the sounds of her moans. Reaching a hand down to where their bodies were joined, he brushed his thumb over the tiny bundle of nerves there, feeling Hermione tense up.

Another brush of his thumb, and she exploded around him, screaming his name. He felt his release hit then, and groaning her name in return, he spilled himself into her.

They were both shaking as their heartbeats attempted to slow down, wrapped around each other as they were. As soon as he felt he had the energy, he caught her lips with his own, sharing a sweet, blissful kiss.

"I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too, Harry."

Pulling her off the counter, he didn't pull out of her as he walked them slowly to their bedroom, shutting the door firmly shut with his foot.

-The End.