Chapter 53: Unspoken Desires
The room that was created for Hermione was a small bedroom with a fake window filled with moonlight, a bed with a down comforter, a couple of bed tables with flickering candles and a bathroom with a shower and a WC. After they showered separately, they found themselves in bed under the covers. It didn't surprise Harry when Hermione pulled out a book to read before falling asleep. He enjoyed watching her profile as she read, occasionally turning a page.
She smiled when he would think how beautiful she looked in the candle and moonlight. She'd glance over at him and see him staring at her with his green eyes aglow with the feelings he had for her. It wasn't long before she closed the book and looked at Harry. "Are you going to stare at me every night I read before bed?" She asked.
"When I have the chance yes," He replied honestly. "I love you, and a book in your hand is the way I've seen you most of the time I've known you," Harry explained. He reached out his fingers and gently caressed the side of her cheek causing her to close her eyes to the exquisite feeling of the touch. "And you, my Hermione are even more gorgeous right now."
Hermione fell asleep with Harry's arm over her with her final thoughts being how she loved being 'Harry's Hermione' just as she knew he was 'her Harry'.
The Room of Requirements simulated sunshine poured through the fake window the next morning to indicate that morning had arrived. Hermione was the first to climb from her restful slumber. She opened her eyes feeling more refreshed than she had in a long time. She'd only been awake a few seconds when she realized that she wasn't alone in her bed. The first indication was the fact there was a hand up her shirt cupping one of her breasts, and the other was a much more firm object pressing against her rear.
A wave of panic swept over her, but then the memories of the night before came back. She smiled as she remembered exactly where she was and who was in bed with her. She moved her hand to lift Harry's from her breast and then stopped as she realized she enjoyed the feeling of it where it was. With a blush spreading across her cheeks, she started to think of what their first time would be like.
Harry awoke several minutes later to the pleasant smell of vanilla that seemed to tickle at his nose. As he opened his eyes he found his nose buried in thick brown hair, his memories of the night before came back to him and he pulled Hermione even closer to him and that's when he realized where his hand was. Panic coursed through his mind as he pleaded for Hermione to still be asleep while at the same time he started to move his hand slowly out of her shirt.
"Don't," Hermione whispered but he was already moving it.
"But...I'm sorry Hermione. I didn't mean to," Harry exclaimed as his hand came out of her shirt.
"Harry, I've been awake for several minutes now. If I had not wanted your hand there I would have moved it myself," She explained. "I know you didn't do it on purpose and even if you had," she turned over and looked him in the eyes as she continued, "I wouldn't have minded," To prove her point, she sat up and pulled her shirt up and over her head and threw it off the bed. She smiled when she turned back to Harry and found his mouth was agape. "You might want your glasses for this," She smirked.
Harry was a teenage boy. Older in mind than in body, but still a teenage boy who had very little experience with viewing the female body. Once he had his glasses on he tried to look Hermione in the eyes, he really really tried to look her in the eyes, but his eyes kept wandering lower to the perfect breasts that were right there in front of him.
"I'll give you this morning love," Hermione said with a knowing smile. "But I do expect more eye contact once you get over this part," Harry eyes looked up at her face for a short time as he nodded, but it wasn't long before they made their way back to those beautiful, perfect breasts. It was one thing to get a glimpse of her breasts when the met Miranda but for them to be right in front of him, with her permission to look was entirely something else. It only got better when the next words she spoke were "You are allowed to touch."
"Ar…are you sure?" Harry asked. "I don't want to…"
"I'm sure Harry. No further than touching this morning, but I am sure I want this."
Hermione relished the touch of Harry's hands as he gently and hesitantly started caressing. He started awkwardly but it wasn't long until his hands were gentle but firm in their movements as he grew confident that she was enjoying what he did and really wanted it to happen.
After a while she had him remove his own shirt and she ran her hands over his chest, bringing a whole new meaning to the word pleasure to Harry's vocabulary. She had seen an older Harry's shirtless body many times in the tent, but now she explored that body and the scars that permeated his torso and arms that were uniquely her husband's.
From those scars that were made by his uncle during his childhood, to the bite from the basilisk, to the cut made by Wormtail to take his blood in the graveyard, she traced each one with first her fingers and then her lips.
As she did that she let him know how much she loved him, how each one was a part of that person she loved, and how she wanted to share the pain each had caused him. Finally she ran her fingers and lips gently over his heart knowing there were still scars there that she hoped to help him heal.
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