Good Girl || George Weasley

45

Disclaimer: This chapter contains sexual material for mature audiences

It starts urgent, like we can't possibly get the clothes off of each other fast enough. Shirts get thrown to the side, followed by his pants and my skirt, followed by my bra. Our hands wander over every inch of skin that gets exposed, pulling each other closer, closer, closer, as if we want to become one.

He slows down once he discovers how wet I am, rubbing me through my panties and kissing my neck, murmuring phrases of praise and encouragement in my ear and against my skin.

He's gotten significantly more confident as the months have passed — he knows me, knows how my body will react to his touch or even just his voice. And his confidence, in both knowing me and in his own skin, I think, has helped my confidence to grow, too. Neither of us have to worry about anything or anyone else when we're together. We can just be, with no judgement, because we each know the other loves us just how we are.

I lay back, and he starts to kiss down my body, his hands caressing every inch of my skin that his lips don't touch, as if he can't get enough of me, and it makes me feel good. It makes me feel desirable and powerful and beautiful, and he confirms that with every whispered word that comes out of his mouth. 

He doesn't hesitate to tug my panties down, tossing them to the side before pushing my thighs apart and getting to work between my legs, the desire and urgency coming back, as if he's been dying to taste me — and I don't doubt that he has. I let out a moan of relief at the stimulation of his tongue, and he makes a noise against me that's somewhere between a moan and a laugh.

My fingers slide through his hair, pulling him even closer to me as he sucks on my clit, sending waves of pleasure through me. I can't think straight, can't think of anything else except for the possibility of finally feeling George inside of me today, as I lift my hips off the bed, my back arching as he slides two fingers inside of me.

"Fuck," I gasp, "George, I'm close."

He keeps going, his tongue working my clit as he pumps his fingers as deep as they can go, and I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling my orgasm coming on.

"George," I moan, "Just like that. Fuuck, Iwantyoutofuckme."

I finish, hard, and as I'm recovering, my chest heaving, George pops his head up, sucking clean the two fingers that were inside of me.

"What'd you say?" he asks, so casually that it's kind of funny, but I'm too nervous to laugh.

I feel my cheeks start to redden. "Um. I, uh, I'm ready. If you are."

His eyebrows shoot upwards, and while I can definitely see the hesitation in his face, his excitement is also clear in the way his eyes light up.

"Are you sure? Just because it's my birthday doesn't mean we have-"

"I want to," I interrupt, looking at him evenly. "I've thought about it, and I'm ready. As long as you want to."

A slow smile spreads across his face. He doesn't answer until after he's resumed his position on top of me and gave me a long, slow kiss that says a lot more than words ever could.

"Of course I want to, beautiful," he murmurs, brushing his lips along my jawline, "But I-I don't have a condom or anything. I can sneak back to the room and-"

"No, it's okay," I interrupt, and he lifts his head, surprise clear on his face, "There's a potion that prevents pregnancy, as long as it's taken within twenty-four hours. It seems easy enough to make. If that's okay with you," I add, quickly, "If you'd rather use a condom, that's okay. I don't want you to think I'm, like-"