“He stopped. She heard the intake of his breath. “You are my country, Desdemona.” Yearning, harsh and poignant and she felt herself swaying toward him. “My Egypt. My hot, harrowing desert and my cool, verdant Nile, infinitely lovely and unfathomable and sustaining.”She gasped.His gaze fell, shielded by his lashes. An odd, half-mocking smile played about his lips. “You’ll never hear old Blake say something like that.”She swallowed, unable to speak, her senses abraded by his stimulating words, her pulse hammering in anticipation? Trepidation?“Remember my words next time he calls you a bloody English rose.”

“My Beth,” he whispered, his breath hot on her swollen lips. “Thank you.” “For what?” Beth couldn’t stop crying, but she smiled, her face aching with it. “Setting me free.”

“She watched his lips forming the words, at the same time she heard them under her skin, under her winter coat, so near and full of warmth that she felt herself go hot.”

“That was my first kiss," she said. "My first real one."He brought his head close, resting his forehead on hers. Blond waves fell around her face, soft against her cheeks. His chest rose and fell as he drew in a breath. "Felt like the first real one for me, too.”

“My name,” he muttered. He turned his head, pressed a kiss to her palm. “Say my name, damn it.”Chuckling, she pulled his head close. “Taylor.” She said it against his lips. As she did that, she rolled her hips against him, squeezing down with her inner muscles so that she milked him in a teasing, taunting caress.Oh, shit…Little warning tingles were already shooting straight up his spine, but he gritted his teeth. No, damn it. He wasn’t going to lose it after thirty fucking seconds. Especially since he hadn’t told her yet.But then she did it again, and again.“I love you.” It came out a broken, harsh groan against her lips, the words he could no longer keep trapped inside. The words he had to share with her, now.”

“Hermione slid out of her bunk and moved like a sleepwalker towards Ron, her eyes upon his pale face. She stopped right in front of him, her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide. Ron gave a weak, hopeful smile and half-raised his arms.Hermione launched herself forwards and started punching every inch of him that she could reach.'Ouch — ow — gerroff! What the — ? Hermione — OW!'“You — complete — arse — Ronald — Weasley!”She punctuated every word with a blow: Ron backed away, shielding his head as Hermione advanced.“You — crawl — back — here — after — weeks — and — weeks — oh, where’s my wand?”She looked as though ready to wrestle it out of Harry’s hands and he reacted instinctively.“Protego!”