Just an entertaining One-Shot. I've always found odd matches like a twin and Hermione intersting (but Malfoy and Hermione is the bomb)

Enjoy (:

Bed Sheets

Hermione couldn't stop it. The low sound worked its way up from the bottom of her chest and reverberated through her throat. The moan came out soft, low, and dangerously husky. No one could blame her; any girl would be doing the same if George Weasley was slowly trailing his lips down her neck. How had this happened? Hermione wondered. Was it when he had walked in on her in the bathroom, barely clad in a towel? That had been a week ago and it amazed her how one encounter could spark such strong emotions. The bathroom incident had been followed be never ending apologies and burning cheeks. Afterwards, however, the week had been full of secret looks, unspoken words, and desire. George had obviously been as curious as she, wanting to know the skin that lay beneath each others clothing. Maybe the true attraction had begun when George cornered her in the Burrow's den late the other night. Despite her protests, he had gently run his lips over hers, his breath tickling her skin. The small contact was powerful enough to leave her winded, clinging the front of his shirt. Then the coy bastard had smiled, and walked off to bed, leaving her in a dazed, confused mess.

Although she had to admit it, tonight had been the night where her will power had finally and completely caved. It was inevitable when George had caught her by surprise, sneaking up behind her in the guest bedroom like that. She could huff and stomp her feet all she wanted, but she couldn't deny the fact that George melted something inside of her. He eased open a part she had always kept locked up tight. She'd look back on it and cringe, Hermione knew that much. Later on she would regret allowing things to flare up so quickly, but at the moment she really just didn't care. Situations as such called for flinging caution out the window, especially when George was slowly parting her legs with one of his own. She let her head roll back against the floor as his knee continued upwards. Their position, George's presence over her, showering her neck with his warm attentions, was sinful. Hot, heavy, and sinfully seductive.

George claimed her lips as another loud moan started to rise from her throat. He pressed his knee were she joined and Hermione felt her eyes roll into the back of her head. Dear God, it was unlike anything she had ever felt. The firm, unceasing pressure sent warmth flooding into her limbs, the pleasure in her groin sweet. Hermione shook, fingers digging into the carpet. George had worked his way back down to her collar bone but paused. She looked up at him, confused. Her body was begging, reeling from the loss of his touch. They locked eyes and Hermione felt her heart tighten. Though his unruly hair fell into his face, almost reaching the tip of his nose, she could see his expression. Eyes dark with lust, George gazed out at her from behind the ginger screen.

He was watching her, intently. Suddenly he ground his knee against her. Hermione gasped, cheeks flushing. He smiled; his breathing heavy. He applied the pressure again, liking the reaction he received. When he started to pick up a rhythm, slowing pressing circles against her center, Hermione fought to gain her breath. It was hard to control her body when he was melting her from the inside out. Hermione closed her eyes, unable to stop her back from arching.

George watched as she squirmed underneath him, loving the show she was putting on for him. His lions tightened as she parted her lips, practically begging him take her mouth with his own. He could feel the heat from her apex seeping into his knee. It was tempting to rip off the shorts that graced her body. Her legs had been teasing him all day, shapely and enticing. He wanted to bend down and kiss her, taste her, but he simply couldn't take his eyes off of her. Who knew that Hermione could be so seductive, it was astounding, mainly because he knew she wasn't trying to be. This was pure Hermione, lost in passion, and he was the one giving it to her. George's breath hitched in his chest, Hermione was grinding her hips against his leg. Finally deciding to give a little back, eh? George felt his usual grin tug across his mouth.

Hermione played with the hem of his shirt, shy and unaware of how her cool touch made his skin jump. A delicate finger grazed over one hipbone and George quivered. His jeans felt uncomfortably tight now, the denim restraining him. A deep blush had rising to her cheeks, slowly gaining bravery as George let a deep growl rumble out from his chest. His abdomen twitched as she ran her hands up his chest, pulling his shirt up. Soft, deft fingers explored every inch of his torso, tracing the muscle lines, and softly teasing his navel. She was unwinding him and from the mischievous glint in her eyes, Hermione knew what she was doing. It was very unlike her, that expression, but George found that he liked it. Two could play at that game.

Hermione almost shrieked with George suddenly grabbed her hips, hauling her up onto his lap. The abrupt change in positioning left her winded, dazed. George had her straddling his waist now, his knees firmly keeping her in place. Before she could react, he had her shirt up and over her head. The thin tank fell from his fingers to the ground, forgotten and abandoned. Hermione felt the hot blush spread down to her chest, playing amongst the cleavage produced by her black push up. He was devouring every inch of her with his eyes. Hermione fought the temptation to cover her chest in demur modesty.

She felt breathless as she watched the trade mark Weasley smile light up his features. He looked… delicious. It was the only thing that came to mind. His hair fell to his shoulders in a tousled, tempting mess. The moon light coming in from the window gave his red color and his smooth face a soft appearance, making him look like a celestial being. George was a trickster, reeking havoc on everyone with Fred by his side, but tonight he was something else. It was a side she had never seen, nor expected to see, in her entire life. The jokes were gone, the cocky attitude was gone; this was just George, passionate, desirable, and wanting her.

He was watching her, knowing she liked what she saw. He gave her a heavy, seductive look before pulling his shirt off in one, incredibly sexy move. Hermione's hungry eyes ate up his toned body. Strong arms twined around her bare waist, pulling two eager chests together. She shivered as he brushed his lips along her neck line, coming to a stop at the shell of her ear.

"Come on," George breathed, taking her ear lobe into the hot warmth of his mouth. He teased the soft flesh with his teeth, earning a needing whimper from its owner. Hermione swallowed, beginning to sweat. It felt as though a pool of heat had dropped into her lap. When he finally continued his lips tickled her ear, sending shivers cascading down her back.

"Let's play, Hermione."

The simple phrase broke the dam of urgency that had been building in her chest. With vigor, Hermione claimed his mouth. Soft tongues teased and coaxed each other and lips danced. George busied her with his mouth and took hold of her hips. His palms were firm, each finger caressing her subtle skin. Hermione groaned into his mouth as he pressed her against his aching erection, guiding her by his grip on her hips. Damn clothes, they needed to get rid of the damn clothes. Time began to blur in a frenzy of hot skin on skin, begging lips, moans, and soft whispered nothings.

Her pulse began to pick up its pace as George slipped a finger into the waist line of her shorts, playing with the hem of her underwear. Kissing him, feeling his body against hers was one thing, but to feel George go even further beneath the layers of clothing… a whole new level of awareness opened up to her. Hermione knew what it was like to lay with another. She had experimented with Ron back in their 6th year, but he had been the only one. The times they had been together were few, and Ron hadn't been smooth. He was clumsy in every aspect of love making, unable to know how to please her. Hermione was still naive, never having been filled to the max. Feeling George toy with her underwear raised sudden questions in her mind. Could he do it?

"Take me," she said, her sudden boldness surprising even herself.

George stopped and looked at her, sizing her up. He seemed taken aback as well; the demand seemed foreign coming from the mouth of Hermione Granger. Hermione felt the begging need low in her body, nagging, urgent. She wrapped her arms around the stunned twin and pressed her forehead to his. He smelt fabulous, an intoxicating mix of simple soap and musk. Her lips barely touched his and she looked into his eyes, unashamed and daring. Hermione was certain now, George could please her. This Weasley had already made her feel things that she didn't even know existed. He looked back into her eyes, and as she spoke, she could feel the shiver run through him.

"George, take me. Now," Hermione stressed the last word, rubbing her self against his groin. She had an appetite now that only he could sate.

George didn't wait for her to ask again. With a rush of movement he collected her in his arms and Hermione felt the world tip as he laid her on the bed. The comforter was soft against her bare back, but the softness was nothing compared to the warm kisses George was trailing down her legs, bracing a delicate ankle on his shoulder. She'd never been so breathless; each kiss closer intensified the need growing between her legs. George made it to her upper thigh and she thought she'd die in delirium as the stubble on his jaw brushed the sensitive area.

Then he did something that would have made her cry out if it weren't for the other inhabitants in the house. George nuzzled his face between her legs, cupped her with his mouth, and then blew. The intense, moist heat flooding against her was almost too much. Her heart would break out of her chest from all its pounding if he kept this up.

"God… George. That's-," Hermione stammered.

"Amazing?" he supplied, looking up at her with a wink; the charming bugger. Hermione couldn't help but give him a smile. He blew again through the kaki material, getting another fabulous reaction.

George looked up at her and watched as she rolled her head back. He'd never seen her as the passionate type. He never expected his brother's friend to be so incredible hot, chest heaving, cleavage threatening to spill out of its confines. He could help her with that, George grinned, visions of tearing the bra away filling his mind. First, however, he had something at hand to take care of. With one hand gripping the pocket of her shorts, George tugged at her buckle with his teeth. His other hand worked furiously on his own bindings, attempting to rid himself of the offending material. The button came undone and he pulled the zipper down. The musk of arousal that filled his senses almost pushed him over the edge right then and there. God, it felt like he would explode.

He added her shorts to the growing pile of discarded clothing, his jeans followed quickly and both heaved a sigh as skin touched skin. Heat travels well through the thin fabrics of underwear, and both George and Hermione were enjoying that fact immensely.

Their heavy breathing, pants, moans, and sighs filled the room as the two explored the newly exposed places. George reveled in the feeling of Hermione running her hands up and down his back. She arched up against him, impatient. It was incredibly tempting to just take her, to be inside her and to be surrounded by the warmth. But George wanted to take his time, slowly memorizing every inch of her body.

With gentle fingers, he slid the straps of her bra down her graceful shoulders. Hermione sighed with each butterfly kiss he placed on her chest. He was so soft, so attentive that Hermione didn't notice her bra hitting the floor until George took an erect nipple into his mouth. She felt jarred. It was surreal, the feeling the sparked down into her stomach and groin, stoking up the fire to all new heights. Ron had never done this; he'd never taken the time or the effort. George was amazing, the things he did to her body. It seemed as though a never ending stream of sounds kept bubbling out from her, not that it bothered her. If anything the noises she made seemed to encourage him.

Hermione ran her fingers through his hair, clenching her fists as he twirled the sensitive nub between his teeth and tongue. She could feel his desire pressing against her thigh and she shifted her hips, attempting to catch it. A sense of satisfaction filled her as the contact left him winded on her chest. He felt warm and hard against her tender flesh, and she marveled briefly at how different, yet equally good, his knee had felt in its place. Hermione could feel every inch of him, desperately wanting all of him. George kissed her chin and lips while gently teasing her other nipple with his forefinger and thumb. She had to do something. Hermione had to return the pleasure that George was so generously showering on her.

George took in a deep shuttering breath as Hermione snaked her hand in between their shaking bodies, grasping his manhood. George had fallen out of his boxers, and Hermione was shocked at how smooth to the touch he was. He was so hard, yet softer than anything she'd ever laid her fingers on. She pulled, carefully pumping her hand across him. George's hips jerked, grinding into her hand. Losing control, he attacked her ear, flicking the shell with his tongue. His breathing had become erratic, heavy and loud in the tunnel of her ear.

She couldn't stop the gasp that escaped from her lips when he pulled away, unexpected and sudden. For the third time that night, George captured her eyes with his own, a dark gaze full of want and of unspoken words. He really didn't need to say anything; Hermione wanted anything he had to give her. And, oh, how she wanted to give right back to him. She was giddy as he twined his fingers into the soft cotton of her underwear, pulling them down over her legs and finally away. With shaking hands she did him the favor of ridding him of his boxers. Her whole body was trembling now, anticipating.

George gave her a look, concern flashing over his expression.

"Are you okay?" he asked, straddling her on his knees.

"Perfectly," she replied, reaching up to cup his buttocks with both hands.

Limbs mingled together, Hermione's smooth legs wrapped around George's waist, drawing him closer. He twined his fingers with her own, pinning Hermione's arms above her head. She was completely open and ready for him, and he was prepared to give her the world. They paused, George pressing at her opening. Then with eyes closed, George slid into her, sheathing her to the hilt. Someone moaned, a deep noise speaking perfectly of the pleasure coursing through them, but neither could tell which had made it. George drew out, savoring the slow motion before thrusting back in. Tension built up in their muscles, working their way up as George picked up the pace. Hermione lifted her hips, matching him in the rhythm.

Hermione was seeing white; it was a feeling so strong her teeth were tingling. She hadn't known how good it could be, how beautifully fulfilling it was to have someone inside. She tightened her legs grip around his waist, pulling him closer. Hermione stared at his face in wonder; the George Weasley above her was raw with emotion. His eyes closed, forehead worked into a frown of concentration. Sweat beaded at his temple, his lips parted. She felt her eyes roll back as his speed quickened; their hips seemed glued together, unable to leave each other. Hip bone bumped hip bone, hot skin slid against skin as their lips claimed each other, ravenous.

She couldn't stop making noise. Every moan, every mewl and whimper that rose from her lips was involuntary, created from George's attention to her body. She was rising, Hermione could feel her body starting to tense along with George's. She could feel the weight of something over the horizon, rushing up on her with every thrust of his hips. It was exciting and terrifying, not knowing how it would come. Then it crashed down on her body like an earth quake. Feeling her muscles seize up and clench around George was mind blowing, leaving her completely blank for a floating, blissful moment. Another thrust and George shuddered, suddenly biting onto her shoulder as his body let out a single, powerful spasm.

There was silence that followed, their orgasm leaving both exhausted. George suckled at her shoulder, kissing the mark he had left. Her body felt impossibly light, content to lay there in bed with George over her, still inside. Complete relaxation flowed through her veins as George ran a finger along her jaw line, gently tracing over her bottom lip. She opened her mouth, allowing George to replace his finger with his warm mouth. The kiss was deep, satisfied. He pulled out and laid down next to her, tugging Hermione close to his side. She made herself comfortable, nestled against him. They fit like a mold. She looked at him. He had his eyes closed, one arm tucked behind his head, and a small smile playing across his lips. He looked so peaceful, at ease. Hermione opened her mouth.

"Shh," he whispered, placing a finger sensually over her lips.

It was if to say 'don't ruin the moment' and she found herself understanding, what better way than to fall asleep in his arms in satisfied silence. Hermione smiled, placing her head against his chest. George sighed, using his free hand to cup her soft bottom, anchoring her against him. It felt incredibly intimate, more so than the passionate love they had just shared. George wanted to sleep with her in his arms. It warmed Hermione's heart and she let her eyes shut, listening to the sound of his even breathing, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest. His steady heart beat, thumping against her ear served as a lullaby, coaxing her to sleep. Hermione let out a content sigh, sleep began to pull her away.

Spending the rest of summer vacation at the Burrow just got a bit more interesting.