I was in the mood to be a little playful.

There�s something about seeing Ron when he�s just woken up, when he�s still in his pajama bottoms (the top always seems to become a casualty before daylight), and his hair is deliciously ruffled from sleep and his face is all a-flush with the vigor and energy of a brand new day. It�s downright irresistible. Dangerous, really. I�ve woken up to him like this every single day for the last fifteen years--and a good while before that, too--and still, the sight of him beside me is enough to render me speechless.

So when he sneaked up on me this morning, as I was caught up in my own little world, humming some random tune while I baked our son�s birthday cake, I never really had a chance. There he was, standing in all his glory, eyeing me with much amusement, and flashing that deadly grin of his that always put me at a disadvantage. He doesn�t play fair, my husband. But then again, that�s probably why I love him so.

It takes him a few seconds before he apparates in our bedroom. I am just about to lock the door when I feel a pair of hands grasp my waist and I let out a gasp of delight. The door stands forgotten for a moment--but only for a brief moment--as he pulls me into him and spins me around, dipping his head low to kiss me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remember that the door is still slightly ajar, and I fumble behind me for the handle, then give it a good shove so it slams shut. He laughs into my mouth, one hand slipping underneath my jumper to make contact with the skin at the small of my back, but I pull away (earning a groan of protest) to turn my attention to the door once more.

�Hey,� he says, his breath scorching hot in my ear, making me dizzy all at once, �I don�t think we were quite finished yet...�

I giggle; he loves it when I giggle.

�Hold on, tiger,� I say. �First there�s the matter of making sure we... won�t be disturbed.�

I jiggle the lock and he suddenly understands. With my free hand, I reach for my wand and mindlessly mutter the silencing spell, almost fouling it up, as it is awfully hard to concentrate; Ron�s tongue darts down my neck and I can scarcely put together a coherent thought, much less recite a simple spell.

But recite it I do, and at once I toss my wand aside.

�You�re sure it�s locked?� he whispers.

He leans into me against the door, and I�m glad I have something to brace me, for I can barely stand.

�Mmm hmm...�

�And you�re sure the silencing spell is in place?�

�Yes...�

He smiles again, his eyes twinkling with mischief, then he takes my hand and leads me to the bed. He sits on the edge, with me still standing, looking down on him, and the hunger is evident in his face, in his very touch as he slides his hands to my hips.

�Good,� he says, as he starts to lift my jumper up my torso, �because I plan to make you scream...�

Tosses it aside.

�... and moan...�

Unhooks my bra and slides it down as he takes in the sight of me.

�... and cry out my name over and over...�

He pulls me down onto the bed while his hands are busy unbuttoning my trousers and sliding them down my legs. I help him in the endeavor, and, feeling especially bold, I push him down onto the bed, delighting in the way his eyes widen momentarily in surprise when I do.

�Well,� I say, leaning over him, placing a knee on either side of his hips, �don�t think I won�t do the same to you...�

I feel, rather than hear his deep groan when I kiss him. His hand finds its way to the back of my neck, caressing me to the rhythm of his tongue plunging into me. I had meant to take control here, but once again, I fall victim to his spell. With what conscious thought I have left, I tug on his pajama bottoms, feeling his hand close around mine as together, we rid ourselves of the bothersome barrier. I lift myself up to look down on him again, and he looks up at me with absolute trust and anticipation. I think he knows what I�m about to do next; I can see it in the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

I slide my hand down his torso, feeling his muscles quiver beneath my touch. It makes me feel powerful that I can affect him this way, that I�m the only woman who can make him tremble and gasp for air. And he�s the only man I would ever want to touch this way, to feel, to taste.

My lips trace the same path that my hand traveled just moments before, and his breath grows ever more ragged. The sound of it is like music to my ears. I hear his sharp intake of air when my mouth reaches its destination, and my lips close around him, enveloping him. The air escapes from him in a throaty moan, and it fuels me, as I begin to drag my tongue up his length. His hand winds itself in my hair, gently guiding me. There�s a look of pure ecstasy on his face and I smile, knowing that I�m the reason for it.

After a while, when I sense that he can�t take much more of this sweet torture, I slide up to kiss him, and he takes me by surprise, flipping me deftly onto my back. With that grin that serves as my downfall, he murmurs, �Wicked woman...�

I laugh as he nibbles on my bottom lip.

�I do believe my husband has corrupted me...�

�Damn right...�

I gasp as I feel his mouth leave mine and paint a trail of kisses down my body. He takes his time, knowing that I love it when he prolongs his worship of me, knowing exactly where the brush of his lips makes me whimper, where his touch makes me cry. And soon, I feel his breath at the very core of me, his tongue stabbing in and out and up and down until I�m falling off the edge before I know it.

He waits until the aftershocks die down before he looks up at me again, and his smile takes my breath away.

�I must look thoroughly debauched,� I say with a soft chuckle.

He settles himself above me again, his head hovering low above mine.

�You look thoroughly beautiful.�

When he says I�m beautiful, I believe him. No one else can make me see it; no one else can make me feel it.

I reach up to cup his face, my thumb stroking the rough copper stubble on his cheek, and I pull him down and kiss him, giving him all of me, taking in all of him. Sometime during this, I feel him enter me, and we are at one at last, moving together in a perfect rhythm. He buries his face in the crook of my neck, his hands roaming everywhere on my body before settling to either side of my face. In time, he lifts himself up so we can lock eyes, his hips pounding into me again and again. Lost in our own world, we�re heedless of the one outside these four walls, oblivious to everything but our broken breath and the completion that hovers just out of our reach.

It takes just one more thrust from him before I give into the ecstasy once more and splinter underneath him, and before I can recover, he cries out as well, choking out my name before his body stills and he reaches down to kiss me.

Some time later, I lie half-asleep, half-awake in his arms, feeling his fingers brush up and down the side of my waist. He leans in to kiss my temple and chuckles.

�What?�

�I was just thinking...�

�Hmm?�

�I think your cake is all burnt by now.�

I look up at him and I know he�s expecting me to fall to pieces--the way I tend to when something doesn�t go right for me--but instead I give him a lazy smile and shrug.

�Reckon I�ll just have to bake another one, then.�

He grins back.

�Reckon so.�