“Aren’t you finished yet?”
Hermione Granger looked up from the postcard she was writing, arching a brow and nodding, “Nearly. Just be patient.”
Bill Weasley growled softly as he moved towards his lover, his long red hair free from its usual leather strap and falling against his face as he moved. “You said that ten minutes ago.”
“Ten minutes is not a very long time, Bill,” Hermione pointed out sweetly as she went back to her postcards.
“You’d really rather write postcards than shag me?” he stared at her with a dumbfounded expression on his ruggedly handsome face, his green eyes twinkling with amusement when she sighed in aggravation and glared at him. Merlin, she was gorgeous when she was angry.
“It is not a question of what I’d prefer,” Hermione repeated for what had to be tenth time in the last hour, “I promised that I’d send postcards and this is the first opportunity that you’ve allowed me out of your bed since I arrived last week! Now quit interrupting me and I might very well finish sooner.”
“You really should just move here,” Bill suggested as he walked into the room, feeling her eyes on him.
“My life is in London,” she reminded softly, “besides, I can’t very well leave everything just to move here so we can shag on occasion.”
“Hmm,” Bill grew thoughtful as he kneeled beside her chair, a bit annoyed that she had looked away from him to focus on those blasted postcards. He smiled slowly as he moved underneath the table, his large hands spreading her legs and his head moving between them. He heard her sharp intake of breath as his tongue leisurely licked her slit, the sound of writing stopping as she moaned. “Hermione, darling, I thought you had important postcards to write.”
“I do,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing as she attempted to concentrate on the postcard to Ron. It was right difficult to write her best friend when his older brother was between her thighs.
“You know,” Bill’s voice was playful, his tone teasing, licking, then speaking, “if we got married, that would be more than the an occasional shag, wouldn’t it?”
“Oh God,” Hermione moaned as his tongue lapped at her clit. Suddenly, his words penetrated the lust induced fog around her mind. She quickly pushed her chair away from the table, her eyes wide as she stared into his grinning face. She whispered, “Married?”
“I was meaning to ask you with candlelight and roses and all that romance nonsense you adore,” Bill confessed, “but I’m not a patient man, as you well know, so I figured that I’m on my knees so why not ask now?”
“I didn’t hear you asking anything,” Hermione slowly smiled, her fingers brushing his red hair from his cheek.
“Hermione Jane Granger, will you marry me and make me the happiest wizard in the world?” Bill asked with a grin, his tongue licking her juices from his lips as he waited for her response.
“I suppose so,” she smiled, laughing as she said, “Yes, Bill, I’ll marry you! Besides, how can I refuse when you’re in such a superb position?”
“I see,” he nodded his head, his eyes lighting with mischief, “you’re only marrying me for my body.”
“Well, yes,” Hermione looked at him innocently, “is there something wrong with that? It is a very delectable body after all.”
“Minx,” he purred as he stood up and swooped her into his arms, “the postcards can wait. I want to shag my fiance!”
Hermione laughed as she dropped her quill on top of the postcards reading Greetings from Cairo, the laughter becoming a moan as Bill proceeded to show her just how much he loved her.
*The end*