SLEEPING BEAUTY
Just a short little Harry/Ginny interlude for your reading enjoyment.
I stared into the darkness, blinking the sleep from my eyes. Shapes began to come into focus as my sight adjusted to the faint moonlight filtering in through the closed blinds. I lifted my head from the pillow just enough to read the numbers glowing from the clock on the bedside table.
2:48. Much too early to be awake, so I let my head drop back to the pillow with a sigh.
The bed shifted slightly and I smiled, thinking about the man sleeping next to me. In the dim light, I could just make out Harry’s dark hair against the white pillowcase, and without even thinking about it, I stretched out my hand to run my fingers through the strands. My eyes followed the strong line of his jaw downward, curving over his shoulder and down his side to where the sheet loosely covered his waist. His pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, and although he hated it when I said so to him, he was beautiful.
It was hot that summer for London, and I think maybe that’s what woke me. It was just a little too warm in our room for me to be completely comfortable and I teased Harry sometimes that it was because I was sleeping with him. I honestly believe his body heat could raise the temperature in our bed by ten degrees, and that isn’t only because of how much I always want him.
Want. Hmm ... I probably shouldn’t have let my mind go there. I love to watch him sleep and it would be such a shame to wake him up. I love to watch the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, so steady and even and strong. I love to watch his eyelids twitch and wonder if he’s dreaming of me. Most of all I love to watch his mouth, how his lips part and sometimes his tongue peeps out to wet them, and his bottom lip pouts out, just begging to be sucked.
I snuggled closer and breathed him in. I love his scent, too. It isn’t always exactly the same, but it’s always clean and fresh, yet somehow unmistakably Harry. I leaned forward and ghosted a kiss on his lips, then rested my head back in its place on the pillow, knowing I would never make it until morning, knowing I would not go back to sleep when the need was so great.
I told myself that he wouldn’t mind, even though I felt a little guilty because I knew how hard he worked every day. I knew how imperative it was for him, as an Auror, to be well rested and alert when he was working. But my conscience wasn’t strong enough to stop my fingertips from caressing the soft skin on the side of his neck, or from letting them slide down across his collarbones so I could flatten my hand against the muscles in his chest. I rubbed in big circles, rather like a gentle and relaxing massage, enjoying the feel of the coarse patch of hair and the hard little nubs of his nipples teasing my palm.
He stirred and shifted, rolling onto his back and dragging the sheet with him enough that my bum was now exposed to the night air. I glanced up to see if he’d done it on purpose, but he still appeared to be sleeping soundly. I continued my one-handed massage, purposely keeping my touch light and slow so I could just enjoy his body, mapping every line, curve and angle. A part of me, which I tried to keep buried, kept waiting to wake up from the dream because it was hard to believe I deserved anything as wonderful as being with him. He always said that was the other way around.
When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I leaned in to kiss him again, still only a ghost of a kiss, then I worked my way down his body, pulling the sheet out of my way with my teeth. I was glad he slept nude, and I rubbed my cheek across the swirl of hair surrounding his navel. I’m sure to anyone else it would seem silly, but that was just something I loved to do, and I saw no reason not to do it now.
I rested my head on his belly and admired the view. A trail of hair (Harry actually blushed the first time I called it his treasure trail) lead from his belly button downward, spreading out across his groin where his half-erect penis lay, a few scant inches from my nose. Below that, the swell of his balls, then the muscular lines of his slightly parted thighs. Absently I ran my fingertips down the front of his left thigh, then up again along the inside of that same leg. His breathing quickened and his cock twitched in invitation.
It would have been rude not to answer, so I raised my head and moved lower, licking him firmly from tip to base. Another twitch, which my tongue obligingly answered, and then I was lost. His taste was intoxicating to me, as necessary as the air that I breathe, and I explored his cock with my tongue until it was swollen and hard and leaking. His breathing had changed and I knew he was awake by now, but I didn’t look at him. I just nudged his thighs apart and moved lower.
I lapped at his balls until my saliva glistened on them in the dim light, then I sucked one into my mouth. Harry hissed softly, but still tried to feign sleep. I smiled around the mass in my mouth and manipulated the large kernel inside with my tongue. There was no hope of mouthing both at once ... I’d given up trying after our first couple times together.
Since I knew he was already awake, even though we would both continue to pretend otherwise for a little while yet, I shifted my upper body across his thigh so my mouth could play with his other testicle a little before I moved lower still. I’d been so hesitant to try out some of the things I’d read for fear of how he might react, but gradually I’d grown bolder and discovered there were no boundaries between us. I ran my tongue in hungry stripes up and down his perineum until he pulled his free knee up and let his thighs fall apart, silently urging me to crawl between his legs.
I couldn’t imagine having ever wanted to do this to anyone besides Harry, but I let my tongue slip lower, stroking his entrance, and oh Merlin, the sound he made! I pulled his cheeks apart with my thumbs, opening him up for me. I let my tongue caress him, wet licks and slow swirls across the puckered skin, spiraling inward toward my goal. I hadn’t really mastered the art just yet, and if anything at all, only just the tip of my tongue could penetrate him, but it was enough to make him whimper and twitch. I think just the idea of it excited him. It excited me.
I reached down and slid my fingers through my folds, knowing I’d be wet and slick with need. I coated my fingers well, then shifted up onto my knees and raised my head. I made a line with my tongue from his pulsing hole upward, leaving a trail of saliva across his perineum and balls and the length of his cock as my slippery finger circled his entrance. I pushed my finger into him, slowly but firmly, as I swallowed his cock as deeply as I could, letting the head nudge against the back of my throat.
“Oh FUCK!” Harry swore as I engulfed him and penetrated him at the same time.
I didn’t let up. I bobbed my head up and down his shaft as I fucked him with my finger, in and out, in and out. I showed no mercy as I reached for his prostate, stroking it with my fingertip, while deep throating him, trying to suck his soul out through his cock. He lay on the bed, hips bucking involuntarily as he swore incoherently. I didn’t back off, I didn’t slow down until I felt his balls tighten and his shaft swell and I knew he was on the edge.
I pulled my finger out of him at the same moment I took my mouth away, but before he could form words of protest, I threw my leg across him and guided his erection to my core. I ground myself down onto him, circling my hips in such a way that his pelvic bone pressed into my needy clit. I was already close just from what I’d been doing to Harry, and I knew it wouldn’t take much to have me out on the ledge with him. I ground down some more and rocked my hips, and I swear I think the head of his cock was rubbing against my spine, he was so deeply embedded, but it was good. There was no such thing as too much Harry.
I put my hands on his shoulders and lifted my hips, feeling every inch of his cock as it slid out of my body, then I slammed my hips back downward, impaling myself on him. Suddenly the need was urgent, violent, and I tried to pick up my pace. Harry could feel it too, and he met me, thrust for thrust, our pelvises slamming together so hard it was a miracle we didn’t have bruises later.
He reached up for me, first squeezing a breast, then pulling me down, crushing my breasts against his chest and wrapping his arms around me tightly. He kissed me hard, his tongue probing my mouth as he slammed himself up into me. I tried to keep moving, but his hands had me trapped, and still he pounded against me.
I could feel the burn starting low in my belly and spreading out to my thighs, and I was already so wet I couldn’t imagine how I could have anything left, but I could feel the rush of fluid when my orgasm took me.
Harry just said “Bloody Hell, Ginny” as he felt it too, then he drove into me even harder and I felt his cock spasm and felt the wet heat of his release flooding inside me.
I rested my head on his shoulder as our breathing slowly returned to normal, and I felt a little chill, only then noticing we were both covered in sweat. But it didn’t matter ... I still loved his smell, and I loved the feel of his cock as it softened inside me, and the tickle as it tried to slip away, but more importantly, I loved him.
I stared into the darkness, blinking the sleep from my eyes. Shapes began to come into focus as my sight adjusted to the faint moonlight filtering in through the closed blinds. I lifted my head from the pillow just enough to read the numbers glowing from the clock on the bedside table.
2:48. Much too early to be awake, so I let my head drop back to the pillow with a sigh.
The bed shifted slightly and I smiled, thinking about the man sleeping next to me. In the dim light, I could just make out Harry’s dark hair against the white pillowcase, and without even thinking about it, I stretched out my hand to run my fingers through the strands. My eyes followed the strong line of his jaw downward, curving over his shoulder and down his side to where the sheet loosely covered his waist. His pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, and although he hated it when I said so to him, he was beautiful.
It was hot that summer for London, and I think maybe that’s what woke me. It was just a little too warm in our room for me to be completely comfortable and I teased Harry sometimes that it was because I was sleeping with him. I honestly believe his body heat could raise the temperature in our bed by ten degrees, and that isn’t only because of how much I always want him.
Want. Hmm ... I probably shouldn’t have let my mind go there. I love to watch him sleep and it would be such a shame to wake him up. I love to watch the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, so steady and even and strong. I love to watch his eyelids twitch and wonder if he’s dreaming of me. Most of all I love to watch his mouth, how his lips part and sometimes his tongue peeps out to wet them, and his bottom lip pouts out, just begging to be sucked.
I snuggled closer and breathed him in. I love his scent, too. It isn’t always exactly the same, but it’s always clean and fresh, yet somehow unmistakably Harry. I leaned forward and ghosted a kiss on his lips, then rested my head back in its place on the pillow, knowing I would never make it until morning, knowing I would not go back to sleep when the need was so great.
I told myself that he wouldn’t mind, even though I felt a little guilty because I knew how hard he worked every day. I knew how imperative it was for him, as an Auror, to be well rested and alert when he was working. But my conscience wasn’t strong enough to stop my fingertips from caressing the soft skin on the side of his neck, or from letting them slide down across his collarbones so I could flatten my hand against the muscles in his chest. I rubbed in big circles, rather like a gentle and relaxing massage, enjoying the feel of the coarse patch of hair and the hard little nubs of his nipples teasing my palm.
He stirred and shifted, rolling onto his back and dragging the sheet with him enough that my bum was now exposed to the night air. I glanced up to see if he’d done it on purpose, but he still appeared to be sleeping soundly. I continued my one-handed massage, purposely keeping my touch light and slow so I could just enjoy his body, mapping every line, curve and angle. A part of me, which I tried to keep buried, kept waiting to wake up from the dream because it was hard to believe I deserved anything as wonderful as being with him. He always said that was the other way around.
When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I leaned in to kiss him again, still only a ghost of a kiss, then I worked my way down his body, pulling the sheet out of my way with my teeth. I was glad he slept nude, and I rubbed my cheek across the swirl of hair surrounding his navel. I’m sure to anyone else it would seem silly, but that was just something I loved to do, and I saw no reason not to do it now.
I rested my head on his belly and admired the view. A trail of hair (Harry actually blushed the first time I called it his treasure trail) lead from his belly button downward, spreading out across his groin where his half-erect penis lay, a few scant inches from my nose. Below that, the swell of his balls, then the muscular lines of his slightly parted thighs. Absently I ran my fingertips down the front of his left thigh, then up again along the inside of that same leg. His breathing quickened and his cock twitched in invitation.
It would have been rude not to answer, so I raised my head and moved lower, licking him firmly from tip to base. Another twitch, which my tongue obligingly answered, and then I was lost. His taste was intoxicating to me, as necessary as the air that I breathe, and I explored his cock with my tongue until it was swollen and hard and leaking. His breathing had changed and I knew he was awake by now, but I didn’t look at him. I just nudged his thighs apart and moved lower.
I lapped at his balls until my saliva glistened on them in the dim light, then I sucked one into my mouth. Harry hissed softly, but still tried to feign sleep. I smiled around the mass in my mouth and manipulated the large kernel inside with my tongue. There was no hope of mouthing both at once ... I’d given up trying after our first couple times together.
Since I knew he was already awake, even though we would both continue to pretend otherwise for a little while yet, I shifted my upper body across his thigh so my mouth could play with his other testicle a little before I moved lower still. I’d been so hesitant to try out some of the things I’d read for fear of how he might react, but gradually I’d grown bolder and discovered there were no boundaries between us. I ran my tongue in hungry stripes up and down his perineum until he pulled his free knee up and let his thighs fall apart, silently urging me to crawl between his legs.
I couldn’t imagine having ever wanted to do this to anyone besides Harry, but I let my tongue slip lower, stroking his entrance, and oh Merlin, the sound he made! I pulled his cheeks apart with my thumbs, opening him up for me. I let my tongue caress him, wet licks and slow swirls across the puckered skin, spiraling inward toward my goal. I hadn’t really mastered the art just yet, and if anything at all, only just the tip of my tongue could penetrate him, but it was enough to make him whimper and twitch. I think just the idea of it excited him. It excited me.
I reached down and slid my fingers through my folds, knowing I’d be wet and slick with need. I coated my fingers well, then shifted up onto my knees and raised my head. I made a line with my tongue from his pulsing hole upward, leaving a trail of saliva across his perineum and balls and the length of his cock as my slippery finger circled his entrance. I pushed my finger into him, slowly but firmly, as I swallowed his cock as deeply as I could, letting the head nudge against the back of my throat.
“Oh FUCK!” Harry swore as I engulfed him and penetrated him at the same time.
I didn’t let up. I bobbed my head up and down his shaft as I fucked him with my finger, in and out, in and out. I showed no mercy as I reached for his prostate, stroking it with my fingertip, while deep throating him, trying to suck his soul out through his cock. He lay on the bed, hips bucking involuntarily as he swore incoherently. I didn’t back off, I didn’t slow down until I felt his balls tighten and his shaft swell and I knew he was on the edge.
I pulled my finger out of him at the same moment I took my mouth away, but before he could form words of protest, I threw my leg across him and guided his erection to my core. I ground myself down onto him, circling my hips in such a way that his pelvic bone pressed into my needy clit. I was already close just from what I’d been doing to Harry, and I knew it wouldn’t take much to have me out on the ledge with him. I ground down some more and rocked my hips, and I swear I think the head of his cock was rubbing against my spine, he was so deeply embedded, but it was good. There was no such thing as too much Harry.
I put my hands on his shoulders and lifted my hips, feeling every inch of his cock as it slid out of my body, then I slammed my hips back downward, impaling myself on him. Suddenly the need was urgent, violent, and I tried to pick up my pace. Harry could feel it too, and he met me, thrust for thrust, our pelvises slamming together so hard it was a miracle we didn’t have bruises later.
He reached up for me, first squeezing a breast, then pulling me down, crushing my breasts against his chest and wrapping his arms around me tightly. He kissed me hard, his tongue probing my mouth as he slammed himself up into me. I tried to keep moving, but his hands had me trapped, and still he pounded against me.
I could feel the burn starting low in my belly and spreading out to my thighs, and I was already so wet I couldn’t imagine how I could have anything left, but I could feel the rush of fluid when my orgasm took me.
Harry just said “Bloody Hell, Ginny” as he felt it too, then he drove into me even harder and I felt his cock spasm and felt the wet heat of his release flooding inside me.
I rested my head on his shoulder as our breathing slowly returned to normal, and I felt a little chill, only then noticing we were both covered in sweat. But it didn’t matter ... I still loved his smell, and I loved the feel of his cock as it softened inside me, and the tickle as it tried to slip away, but more importantly, I loved him.
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