“We really shouldn’t be doing this.”

Charlie grinned as he pressed her against the wall, leaning down to nibble her neck before licking her ear. “Who says? Both consenting adults, aren‘t we?”

“Uh huh,” Hermione moaned, spilling wine on the back of his shirt and his shoulder when she reached to grip his head. Blinking somewhat dazedly at the red stain forming, she said, “I need more wine.”

“We’ve had enough, love,” he muttered before catching her lips in a passionate kiss. Well, it would have been passionate, he knew, had he not missed the mark and kissed her nose instead. She started giggling, causing him to glare at her. “Are you laughing at my seduction technique, Miss Granger?”

“Words are too big,” she declared with a large smile before kissing his chin. “Don’t wanna think tonight, wanna feel. Seduction is very good. Make me feel, Charlie?”

“God yes.” This time, he found her lips, though he had to rest his palm against the wall to avoid falling on her. Luckily, the alcohol intake for the evening, an entire bottle of wine between the two of them, hadn’t deterred the erection pressing against his trousers.

Hermione dropped the wine glass when Charlie kissed her, distantly thinking she should clean it up before succumbing to the pleasure of his lips against hers. She’d drunk far too much wine tonight, usually one glass her limit. But she’d been nervous, trying to hide her attraction to her best friend’s older brother, and the wine had tasted so good and he’d been so responsive and flirtatious that she’d kept drinking and he’d kept drinking and now they were against the wall and, bloody hell, his hand was in her knickers.

“Your hand is in my knickers,” she managed to stammer when the kiss broke. Looking at him with a somewhat dazed expression, she watched his cheeks turn red.

“Well, yeah, it is,” he said sheepishly. “Did you want me to take it out?”

“Oh, no,” she hastily replied, looking down and pulling up her skirt to see his large hand beneath the plain white cotton of her everyday knickers. “I should have worn sexier knickers,” she sighed.

“Kinda like these,” he told her with a grin before moving his finger between the wet lips of her cunt. Smiling triumphantly, though the smile actually was more goofy than triumphant, he said, “You’re wet!”

“And you’re hard,” she pointed out with a nod towards his erection. “Ooh, shouldn’t have done that,” she muttered as she gripped her head, the room going quite dizzy suddenly. “Too much wine.”

“Wanna fuck you now,” he declared huskily, using his other hand to pull down her knickers and bare her to his hungry eyes. Unfortunately, he’d been balancing his weight on that hand against the wall so he stumbled forward, knocking her hard into the wall.

“How are you gonna fuck me when you can’t even stand?” Hermione laughed, feeling warm and floaty and hot. She wiggled away from him, stumbling along the way to her bedroom, pulling her blouse over her head and dropping it on the floor. Turning to give him a coy smile, she said, “Come on, Charlie. I want you inside me; have for far too bloody long now.”

“You have?” That managed to penetrate through the alcohol induced fog in his mind, liquid courage he’d needed to get through their first date without pouncing her and making her his like some sort of animal. She was special, far too good for him, and he’d been shocked when she had accepted his hesitant invitation for a date. Now, though, seeing her with that grin, her hair all mussed, cheeks flushed, and lips swollen, he realized he’d been a prat and never noticed she wanted him, too. “How long?”

“Six years,” she said thoughtfully. “You were degnoming the garden at the Burrow and had your shirt off. I realized that freckles were attractive when they were yours, and that was that.”

“Six years?” He gaped at her. “Bloody hell. You were only a kid!”

“Was not!” She glared at him. “I was seventeen, thank you very much. Now quit talking and fuck me!”

Her emphatic words were ruined because, as she turned to flounce away, she tripped and fell forward, landing on her palms and knees. Moving to sit on the floor, she looked up at Charlie, her hair falling over her face, knee bloodied, and the alcohol still buzzing in her system, though the earlier euphoria was fading fast.

“You’re bleeding,” he whispered as he moved forward, falling to his knees beside her. He kissed it, saying, “Mum always said a kiss made it better.“ Looking into her eyes, his rough palm moved over her cheek. “You’re right. We shouldn’t be doing this. Not like this. Too important for us to do it when we’re pissed out of our heads. Want it to mean something, love.”

“How long?” she asked softly, her lips sloppily kissing his palm as she moved closer to him, slowly becoming aware of the fact that she wasn’t wearing her knickers and was sitting on her floor with a man she’d fancied for far too long to actually stop this now, despite her apparent inebri..inebriat..being drunk.

“’bout five years,” he confessed as his thumb traced her lips. “You’d just hexed the twins during Mum’s birthday party for trying to prank Harry and the smile on your face, well, you were beautiful and it hit me that you weren’t Ron’s brainy little friend anymore. We’re rather pathetic at this, huh? Years we’ve wasted.”

“Not wasted,” she corrected. “Merely waiting for the right moment. I don’t care if I’ve had too much wine, Charlie. I want you to love me. No regrets tomorrow.”

“Can’t take advantage of you, Hermione,” he said firmly, knowing he was the most sober of the two, and that wasn’t really saying very much.

“Well, fine.” She smiled slowly before suddenly shoving him back against the floor and straddling him. “I’ll just have to take advantage of you then.”

The sound of buttons hitting the floor filled the air as she ripped his shirt. “Can’t,” he protested feebly before giving up. He’d tried, right? His hands moved behind her, down to her waist, thumbs pressing against her abdomen and making slow circles.

“Freckles,” she pointed out with a grin before leaning forward and licking his collarbone. The spilled wine had covered the back of his shirt and shoulder, some of the taste on his skin. Licking it away, she nuzzled him as her hands moved between them to try to unfasten his trousers. The button was easy, but she couldn’t get the zip down.

“Let me,” he offered gallantly, sliding his hand down, knuckles brushing against her cunt as he pulled the zipper of his trousers down, growling in frustration when it snagged halfway down. Finally, he just ripped it, raising his hips and shoving the material down to his thighs.

“You’re thicker than I thought,” she observed in a tone that made him feel like she was conducting an experiment instead of getting ready to shag him.

Then she looked at him and grinned and he realized he didn’t care because she was bloody amazing. He twitched as her fingers wrapped around him, tugging a bit too hard, causing him to arch up and nearly send her toppling to the floor. He caught her this time, reflexes a bit delayed but still there. They didn’t waste time playing or teasing, thankfully. He wasn’t sure how long he was going to last, having her above him like some gorgeous, well, like his Hermione.

Hermione unfastened her bra, cursing as she snapped herself with the clasp, and tossed it on the floor. The skirt was going to have to stay because she had no intention of standing up to remove it. That decision made, she crawled forward, licking him from abdomen to neck, her breasts rubbing against his sweaty skin, her skirt covering his groin as she began to rub against him.

His hands moved over her upper thighs, toying with the lace edge of her stockings, having to say, “You‘ve got the best tits ever, love,” which earned him a huge smile from her instead of the slap and curse such a word might normally receive.

“I like your cock,” she declared matter-of-factly before kissing him. It was sloppy, wet, and tasted too much like wine, but it was also sweet and passionate and thorough. She raised up when his hand moved between them, moaning against his lips as two fingers slid inside her, getting nice and wet before he stroked his cock to get ready for her.

“Gonna make you mine now,” he said, looking into her eyes as he raised his hips and began to slowly enter her.

“Too slow,” she muttered crossly, resting her palms on his chest before plunging down. “Oh fuck,” she hissed, her head falling back as he filled her completely. She started to fall backwards, but his knees were suddenly there, catching her. She wiggled against him, biting her lip as she explored the different angles of this position, her body stretching to accommodate his girth. Then she was ready to move, watching his face as she raised and lowered herself onto his cock.

He groaned as she moved, wondering if this was really some alcohol induced dream since he’d had these kind of fantasies for years. Unfortunately, he soon had proof that it was really happening because his body arched into her, his hands gripping her hips, and he was coming with a cry of her name after less than a dozen thrusts. In his fantasies, he pleasured her for hours, not fucking her tight wet warmth for five minutes before spilling into her.

“Well, damn,” she sighed, frowning at the trembling redhead beneath her. “You know, I may not be completely sober but even I know that wasn’t very long.”

“It doesn’t usually happen like that,” he grumbled, cheeks flushing slightly, his cock still twitching inside her. Before she could call him on the fact he’d come like some silly schoolboy during his first shag, he somehow managed to get to his feet with her still on his now spent cock. Carrying her into her bedroom, he tossed her on the bed, grinning wickedly before removing her skirt. His eyes moved over her, naked save for her black stockings that contrasted beautifully with her pale skin. “Cor, you’re gorgeous.”

“And you’re drunk,” she said dryly, though his words caused her skin to warm up even more and she suddenly felt gorgeous instead of rather plain and average with unruly hair and a slightly pointed nose and a thin upper lip that could never be considered pouty.

“Not so much that I’m blind,” he smirked, crawling onto the bed between her legs and licking her from arse to clit. “Beautiful and tasty,” he confirmed before lowering his head and tonguing her slit. Lapping at their combined juices, he listened to her noises as his nose rubbed against her clit.

“Charlie,” she gasped, feeling his tongue moving inside her where his cock just had been. God, when she was completely sober, she was so going to remember how bloody sexy that was, she decided. Soon, his fingers were moving inside her, touching and stroking, his tongue flicking against her clit and his lips sucking it into his mouth. She came with a whimper, dizzy again but for all the right reasons this time, and he kept licking until she was begging him to stop.

Looking up at her, he smiled, lips and chin covered with wetness. “Liked that, didn’t you?” The smile became smug as he moved up her body. Falling beside her, his large arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. “No regrets?”

She shook her head, kissing him and tasting them on his lips, sucking his tongue and only pulling back when it became necessary to breathe. “I’m sober enough to know what I want, Charlie; what I’ve wanted for a long time now. Regrets?”

“Never,” he assured her before yawning widely. “Kinda tired, love. Wine’s made me a bit foggy.”

“Hmm…” she nodded, “me too. Knee hurts but can wait until later. Sleepy now. Gonna be good together, aren‘t we?”

Charlie smiled as he nuzzled her neck, his eyes closing as he breathed in the scent of sex, sweat, and Hermione. “Nah, love. We’re gonna be great together.”

The End