He only let go of her once they were in his place, and she took a step back, her breathing still ragged as her eyes wandered nervously around the room.

"The place looks different," she muttered; he couldn't care less.

He waited for a few moments until she turned back to him, a nervous look on her face as she nibbled on her lower lip, and with a low growl he stepped, or stalked more like, towards her. Her dress was still torn down the middle, her breasts heaving up and down as her breathing hardened, and he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

He couldn't believe it was actually happening, after waiting so long, telling himself she could never want anything with a man like him, a cursed man; but she was his now, and he would enjoy every minute of it.

He licked his lips as he watched her, taking another step closer and making her step back again, until her back hit the table. She stopped then, and he moved closer still, his body flush against hers as he placed his hands on the table, on either side of her body, trapping her. He saw her cheeks flush at the look he was giving her, one of pure desire, and he smirked deviously at her. It was amazing how she could still look so innocent, even when she was half naked and aroused, and how he could make her flush, even after what had just happened between them.

He had never wanted anything, anyone more than he wanted her, and now he had her he wasn't planning on letting her go.

Slowly, he bent down and licked her neck, growling into her ear as he reached it, making her shiver and moan loudly in response. He felt her lean closer to him, felt her heated skin against him, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to feel all of her; feel her touch, feel her naked body against his.

Suddenly her expression changed, a look of decision in her face he knew only too well, and then she spurted into action. Before he knew it, her hands were buried in his long hair, pulling him closer as she wrapped a leg around his thigh. Not needing any more encouragement, he moved his hands to her hips and lifted her up, sitting her on the table and standing between her thighs, leaning as close to her as he could, kissing her fervently, hearing her moan and pull him flush against her body. He couldn't remember ever being with someone so responsive, or ever feeling so turned on.

So many days he had spent there, in that very room, sitting right next to her, trying to hide what he had really been thinking, the images in his mind that were slowly driving him crazy.

He wasn't sure how it had happened, or when, but it hadn't been overnight. She had been his little brother's girl at first, the bushy haired bookworm. He had liked her then, but never saw her as more than that. Then, one afternoon, his boss had called him to his office, to let him know he was being sent on another mission. He had never imagined how that trip would change his life.

They had become friends then, good friends, thrown together at work, with not much to do other than speak; he had gotten to know her better, and they had grown closer. She was so much like him in so many ways he had been awfully surprised. She was nothing like he had imagined from the little moments spent with her during the years. She was smart, witty and even funny, never afraid of anything and always ready for a good fight when he said something she didn't agree on. Oh, the times he had disagreed with her for that purpose alone, loving how her cheeks would flush and her eyes widen, how her hair seemed even wilder and her hands moved all around her as she tried to convince him she was right by every possible mean.

He had shared so many things with her, things he had never told anyone, and soon she was part of his life, someone he couldn't imagine being without.

Things hadn't been right with Fleur for a long time; his wife had been scared of him, and he could see it in her eyes every time he looked at her. She had never said anything, but there was no need, he could feel it.

That never happened with Hermione. Not once had she looked at him with caution or fear, never treated him differently because of the curse tainting him. She had been curious about it, in fact, wanting to know how he had changed, and what he felt like. The first full moon in Egypt he had explained to her he needed to be alone, and she had simply nodded in understanding and gone back to her bedroom. The following morning a soft knock on his door had awoken him at sunrise, and he found her standing in the hallway, a flask with Invigoration Draught in one hand and a stack of parchment in the other.

She had spent the entire night researching, trying to find information about wizards that had been attacked by a werewolf in human form.

His name whispered by his ear brought him out of his reverie, and his eyes focused on Hermione again as she moved her hands to his shoulders, pushing his robes off before she started undoing his shirt, her small hands fumbling slightly as she worked the buttons.

His eyes rested on her lips, and he saw she was nibbling on them as she concentrated on taking off his clothes. Unable to help himself, he buried his hand in her curls and pulled her face to his, crushing her lips with his in a passionate kiss. He had wanted to do that for so long.

It had started while they were still in Egypt, he knew that much, although he couldn't remember exactly when. It had been a slow process, getting to know her, feeling her worm her way into his life, changing it all as she did.

One night, he had found himself lying in bed with Fleur, on one of her sparse visits. She was telling him about London, some silly story that involved her shopping and some unpleasant sales-witch, and even as he nodded and hummed in agreement whenever she made a pause, his thoughts drifted to Hermione. She never bored him with her conversation, never talked for hours about silly, superficial things, and if she had ever caught him nodding in agreement without actually listening to her…well, he didn't even want to think what the little witch would do to him. She might be small, but she was like a force of nature.

A silly smile formed on his lips at the thought of her, and Fleur thought he was smiling at her. She moved closer to him then, resting her hand against his chest as she smiled back, her head tilting to the side as she kissed him softly. He had closed his eyes then, and without warning, images of Hermione replaced Fleur's in his mind's eye.

He had been surprised, confused, but had told himself it meant nothing. They spent many hours together, so him thinking of her wasn't strange. Still, it hadn't stopped there.

The next time he had seen her, his eyes had instantly darted to her full lips, wondering if kissing her would feel like kissing Fleur. Healthy curiosity, and nothing more, that was what he had told himself back then; she was the only woman around most of the time, and him occasionally thinking of her that way wasn't strange. It was natural, a trick of his subconscious.

The first time he had dreamed of her, that was when he had began to worry. She was his brother's girlfriend, so why was he thinking of her in that way? He had tried to push those thoughts away, but every time he closed her eyes, all he saw was her, lying beneath him, her bushy hair fanned around her head, her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed and her breathing ragged.

Much like what she looked like now he had gently but firmly pushed her back against the table.

Not wanting to dwell on the memories now that she was really there, he focused on the present, on her legs, wrapped around his hips, pulling him to her, on her hands, trailing up and down his arms now that his shirt was lying somewhere on the floor, her nails leaving reddened trails as they moved, making him hiss in pleasure and lean down for another kiss.

His fingers softly caressed her skin, taking his time now he finally could. Without breaking the kiss, he pushed her dress up her thighs, rolling it around her waist before moving his hands to her shoulders, pulling the rest of the dress down.

He leaned back just enough to watch her, more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. Her skin was soft and slightly tanned, her body perfect, down to the last curve.

His hands moved seemingly out of their own free will, unable to stay still now he had her before him, now he was finally allowed to feel her. He cupped her face for a moment, as he took in her expression, a look of desire, of love, he had never seen before. Then his fingers trailed down her neck, watching her close her eyes and bite her lower lip, trying to hold back a moan. He knew she had a sensitive neck, had noticed it back in the kitchen, when he had kissed it and felt her shiver, and with a mischievous smile he bit her, not hard enough to hurt, but only just. As he had expected, she moaned loudly and arched against him, her nails sinking into his shoulders as she pulled him closer.

He loved the slight pain mixing with the pleasure, it made everything more intense.

His lips trailed down her neck, across her collarbone and then down her chest, leaving a warm, wet trail as they moved, then wrapping around a hardened nipple, his fingers playing with the other at the same time.

"Bill," he heard her moan, as her hands on his shoulders pulled him closer.

He had imagined hearing her moan his name like that for so long, a part of him couldn't believe it was real, that it was finally happening.

For a while he had thought he could control it. He had still hoped things would work out with Fleur, and so he had done his best to push all thoughts of Hermione aside as he focused on his wife. They had been so in love when they had gotten married, or at least that's what he had thought back then, and a part of him didn't want to let go, although deep inside he knew things had changed too much to go back to what they were.

Maybe it had happened before he fell in love with Hermione, or maybe later, but suddenly he had found himself going to her with his thoughts and problems. Whenever something happened to him, good or bad, the first thing that came to his mind was that he needed to see her. He had stopped turning to Fleur, along with his friends, and even though there was nothing more than friendship between him and Hermione, he had felt as if he were betraying Fleur, and that ate him up inside.

Loving to hear his name moaned from those luscious lips, he kissed his way down Hermione's chest, flicking his tongue into her bellybutton as he passed, making her gasp deliciously.

She was everything he had ever imagined and more; he couldn't get enough of her.

Even though only a few minutes had passed, he was painfully hard again, but he decided to ignore his need to fulfil hers. He wanted to touch, lick, kiss every inch of her body; he wanted to commit every inch of it to memory, and then do it again, and again, for the rest of his life if she would let him.

When he had returned to England for his sister's wedding, he hadn't planned on starting something with Hermione; far from it, in fact. He had heard about her and Ron, about the nasty break up, and although he knew she probably needed a friend, he still hadn't returned to London, to be by her side and help her as she had helped him when his marriage ended.

It had been a selfish decision, but by the time she and Ron broke up, she was in his mind every minute of every day, and he was afraid that, if he returned, he would not be able to control himself anymore, that he would do something stupid, something that would ruin their friendship, and he simply couldn't take that risk. He needed time to get over her before seeing her again. He hadn't counted on his sister finally getting married.

She had looked so beautiful at the wedding, more beautiful even that he remembered, after months away from her. He had tried to push all non friendly thoughts from his mind, but he wasn't ready to let go yet. She was too important to him to simply forget. Although he had tried to behave like just a friend around her, it wasn't easy, and seeing her hurt only made him want to hold her, made his need to protect her deeper.

It had broken his heart to see her expression when she saw Ron and that blonde tramp together. He had seen the hurt in her eyes even as she tried to hide it, and when she had slipped through the crowd and back into the house, he had followed her. He had only wanted to talk to her, to try and make her feel better, but it hadn't gone as planned, and suddenly, he had found himself holding her, whispering into her ear words he had never thought he'd say out loud. He had never thought she would respond to him the way she did.

Moving one of her legs over his shoulder, he kissed her inner thigh, watching her close her eyes and moan softly. She was so beautiful, so perfect, and in that moment, she was his. She could have any man she wanted, and yet she was there, with him.

Intent on showing her just how glad he was for that, he leaned down and playfully flicked his tongue around her clit, his other hand moving to her hip to keep her in place as her body arched into his touch.

With a wicked smile and his gaze still fixed on her, loving the look of pleasure on her face, pleasure he was giving her, he flicked his tongue again and then slipped a finger inside of her.

Whatever thought or dream he had ever had of the two of them, whatever hope of one day having her had vanished, funnily enough, when his wife had left him. it hadn't been unexpected, but the way it had happened, the things she had said, had made any possibility of him ever being happy with Hermione or anyone else, of someone ever loving him, laughable.

"She's not good enough for you," Hermione had whispered to him as she ran her fingers through his long hair.

He knew she thought the reason behind his attitude, behind his sorrow, was Fleur, but she wasn't completely right. She thought Fleur wasn't good enough for him; he thought he was the one that wasn't good enough.

A monster, that's what Fleur had called him the night before she left. He had never told Hermione that; he was too afraid that those words were true, and that she would somehow realize what he was, and would leave him, like his wife had.

But even as Hermione had held him close to him, as she had talked to him or just sat by him, worried and wanting to help him, he had wondered if he was good enough for her. How much truth was there in Fleur's words? Was he really a monster, is that what the curse running through his veins had turned him into? His wife had made him feel as if he didn't deserve to be loved, and yet this witch, the one that haunted his dreams, loved him. Maybe she didn't love him like he loved her, maybe she loved him only as a friend, but that was love, nonetheless.

He felt her muscles tensing around his fingers, her hands moving to his head, fingers threading through his hair as she guided his movements.

He wanted to feel her come again, wanted to hear her scream his name in pleasure as she writhed under his ministrations. He wanted her to want him.

As her moans grew louder he wondered if perhaps Hermione did feel the same way. How much time had he lost, thinking it was impossible, too afraid to go after what he wanted? Well, he had a lot to make up for.

He might not be good enough for her, but he couldn't imagine anyone loving her more than he did, and he was willing to spend his life proving just that to her.

"Oh, Bill," she screamed as she reached her climax, and he didn't stop; he kept tasting her, his fingers still moving inside of her until she pulled his head up, panting and exhausted.

Unable to hold back any longer, he took the rest of his clothes off, moving both her legs over his shoulders as he slowly pushed inside of her.

He groaned loudly at the feeling of being buried in her; she was so tight, so warm and wet, that he wished he could stay like that forever.

Back at the Burrow, he hadn't had the opportunity to watch her. they had been almost fully clothed, and he had taken her hard and fast, knowing they could be found any minute. Now it was different; now he could take his time.

His gaze moved down her body, taking in the blush and the light sheen of sweat. Then he looked lower, to the spot where his body met hers. It was not a dream, it was not a fantasy; she was really there, with him.

He started moving slowly, enjoying the feeling of her body wrapped around him and ignoring voice inside him telling him to take her hard and fast, to bury himself inside her and never leave.

She moaned his name again, her hands moving to his shoulders, then down his chest, her nails scratching his skin as they went in a way that made him shiver and thrust hard.

"Yes, Bill, faster," she moaned, her hips pushing up slightly as she tightened her muscles rhythmically around him.

Well, if that was what she wanted, that was what he would give her. here would be plenty of time for slow later.

With a predatory look on his face he pushed her legs off his shoulders and reached forward, burying his hand tight into her hair and yanking her up hard, so she was sitting again. The new angle made her groan loudly in pleasure, or maybe it was not that, but his rough, dominant actions that did it.

He remained still inside her, his gaze fixed on her as she looked back, deep into his eyes. He was amazed at the passion he saw there.

She wanted him to take control, and he did it without hesitation.

Moving both his hands down to her hips, he roughly pulled her to him as he thrust into her, going deeper into her than ever before. She wrapped her hands around his neck for balance, leaning forward so that she was flush against him, and as they moved he could feel her hard nipples rubbing against his chest in the most tantalizing way.

He trailed his lips down her neck, reaching that sensitive spot where neck met shoulder and biting on it, feeling her tilt her head to the side to give him better access as his thrusts became faster, harder.

He had never acted that way with Fleur, had never been able to thrust hard into her, to show dominance. She had never allowed him to follow his desires. But Fleur was the last thing he wanted in his mind, so he pushed those thoughts away as he pushed his hips harder against Hermione's.

He wasn't sure how much longer he would last, and he wanted to make her come again before he did. His name chanted into his ear, her nails sinking into his shoulders as she pulled him closer, her muscles contracting deliciously around him as he thrust inside of her, it was quickly becoming too much.

Moving his hand between their bodies he easily found her clit, his thumb rubbing it just hard enough to push her over the edge, her muscles clamping mercilessly around him, pulling him into oblivion with her.

For so long now he'd had to be careful, always holding back in fear that he would call out the wrong name in ecstasy, and now it was really her with him; now he could finally say her name out loud and see her eyes shine as he did.

"I love you," he found himself whispering softly into her neck as he buried his face there, waiting for his breathing to go back to normal.

For a moment nothing happened, but then he felt her move, her fingers on his chin, tilting his head up until he was facing her again.

He saw something in her eyes as she looked deep into his, although he wasn't sure what it was. His gaze jumped to her lips as her pink tongue darting out to lick them, her expression suddenly nervous, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't bring herself to do it.

He tilted his head back, his brow furrowed as he wondered if he had upset her in any way.

He shouldn't have said those words, he shouldn't have said anything, but they had just come out, and now he couldn't take them back. He had scared her, and now he feared she would run away.

He had taken advantage of her state; she had been feeling sad and hurt over Ron, and he had still gone after her, using her emotions, her confusion for his own benefit. He had never meant to hurt her, but that didn't change anything.

He let his hands fall to his sides, not sure how to apologize to her for what he had done. He was supposed to be her friend, how could he have abused her trust in such a way?

He was an idiot, and now he would really lose her. She would never speak to him again, never want to see him after this, and he couldn't blame her. He should have…

Her hand around his neck startled him, but not as much as her lips on his. She hadn't said a word, but her tender, loving kiss spoke volumes.

Without a second's hesitation he kissed her back, holding her in his arms as he felt his heart beat wildly against hers.

As relief flooded him he pulled her to him, moving his hands to her hips and holding her as he took a step back from the table. Making sure she was holding on to him hard enough, he made his way to the bedroom.

"Sweet Merlin, again?" he heard her gasp when he twitched inside of her, hardening again at just the thought of having her one more time, but even as she spoke he felt her tilt her hips, moaning softly as his body rubbed against her clit. She seemed to be as insatiable as he was.

With a roguish smile, he took her to the bedroom and laid her on the bed, licking his lips before lying on top of her.

"Tired already?" he asked teasingly, and she shook her head. "Good," he whispered by her ear before biting her neck again. "We have the whole night ahead of ourselves."

First of all, so sorry about the eternal wait!! I hate taking so long to update, but the muse wasn't helping, and then I decided I wouldn't update until I knew I'd have the time to keep the updates frequent. I can't promise I'll update as frequently as with my other stories, though, but I'll do my best to do it.

Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed, and to all those waiting for more on this story. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and what's to come.