A/N: SULTRY ADULT M RATED. Anyway now that's out of the way, this'll be a one shot collection all kissing centric and intermittently smutty as I explore romance in fic - also I'm back after a hiatus I did not want but was very much necessary - I hope you like! (side note, practice safety...certain things happen "off screen" like protection...use it lol)

As Harry's lips leave hers, Ginny can't quite bring her eyes to open. Her other senses heighten at the deprivation - the warmth of Harry's arms around her waist, the pounding rain, her bounding heart, the scent of spring's first shower, crackling firewood, and their mingling breaths sweet with shared chocolate she'd smuggled up to the cabin.

It was supposed to be a lonesome trip to the lake house, quiet to get her mind focused on her upcoming Olympic season and off a certain hesitant, tempting, and utterly clueless surgeon.

He can hold someone's damn life in his hands and not hesitate a moment, take someone on the brink of death and bring them back. But ask him to make a move on a woman who clearly fancies the pants off him and it's like he's got no brain at all in that big, stupid, gorgeous head of his.

Instead, Ron, her soon to be dead brother, double booked the cabin purely by accident. And after a brief argument on the doorstep she and gorgeous arsehole doctor decided they could share. Nevermind her nerves - already threadbare - were now shot to pieces.

Somehow awkward avoidance had turned to reluctant cooperation and finally, after a rain drenched run from the docks, the softest, slowest, most tempting kiss she's ever had.

"Ginny."

She keeps her eyes closed. "Yes."

"What - "

And then, because she's tired of waiting, tired of delaying, tired of denying, she opens her eyes just long enough to find his neck and drag his face back down to hers.

If the first kiss was a gentle beginning, this one is a screaming launch from the earth into the stratosphere. Filled with fire and while inevitable, a terrifying clash that could really end anywhere.

Ginny rises on tiptoe and pulls Harry closer, arms locked around his shoulders while her hands find his hair, her kiss unrelenting.

He sighs against her lips, palms slipping to her waistline and tilting her backward as they sway - a graceful give and take while their feet slowly wander.

As she walks backward, Ginny trips over one of her discarded sandals, but Harry's hand remains warm and sure against her back even as their lips separate.

Blinking away the stars behind her eyelids, Ginny drags her stare up to Harry's eyes and finds his pupils blown wide, hair tousled, lips parted and then returning back to worship her with a teasing slowness.

She moans his name as he presses lingering kisses along her jaw, down the slope of her neck, and all the while guides her toward the bedroom.

"Gin," he pushes her jumper up enough that his warm hands can toy with her bare skin, "Is this -"

"Yours - yours is bigger," Ginny grunts, "Quite rude, if we're ah- at a point to air grievances."

Harry pulls back, "Clearly I'm doing something wrong if you're considering past issues to bring up at the moment."

Ginny raises her brows and leads him to the closed door, "I'm a multitasker," and to prove it, she renews her inspection of his lips while working the tie of his joggers open.

After stumbling over his now divested trousers, Harry regains his footing and finishes his work with Ginny's jumper and tosses it over his shoulder. "Since we're moving things along."

"Finally."

"Yes well you were taking entirely too long to kiss me, so you're quite welcome," Harry says, muffled by his half-removed t-shirt.

Ginny finishes her work and works the door open before flipping their places and pushing Harry backward toward the bed, not a pillow out of place until he drops backward onto it with a creak of the springs.

"You - are you kidding me."

"Why - " Harry's retort ends, somewhat strangled, as Ginny drops her leggings and stands between his knees.

Honestly, it's a bit helpful that he's got her all riled in a not quite sexual sense. She's regained her head. Now they can focus and have a proper go.

But first she's got a score to settle.

He sits forward and his stupid muscles ripple and the hairs on his legs tickle her knees and maybe she can settle the score while continuing their 'proper go.'

Harry seems to have a similar idea because his palms find her hips and drag her close so he can kiss and nip his way across her midriff. When she nearly falls backward, Harry guides her into his lap and migrates his ministrations north, working one strap of her bra from her shoulder while her hands grasp his wild curls. "Why - why do you think I'm kidding," he tilts his hips just enough to make a point, "I am most definitely not, as you may be able to see now."

Ginny's nails scrape along his scalp, run over his shoulders as he toys with her other strap. "It's been a year. Hell it's been since uni, you turtle of a man."

Harry laughs against her throat and pauses at the hooks on her bra, waiting.

Rather than give him another excuse to delay, Ginny reaches back and pops the catches free, but leaves the front for Harry.

His eyes linger on her half exposed chest as he sucks in a breath. "Before - it was never the right time."

She shivers as his hands rise up her bare back. "And now?"

"I don't want to wonder if it's the right time."

The remaining boundaries between them are stripped away as they maneuver until Ginny's head is resting against the pillows and Harry's slow exploration of her skin has come to a halt at her shoulder, his breathing labored. "Gin."

Ginny groans at his hoarse whisper. "Harry."

"Can we - "

She barely sighs out a quiet please and Harry's pressed onto his forearms, his eyes boring into hers as he tilts his body forward and his breath leaves his lips in a sharp 'hah.'

The wind answers their moans, the thunder punctuates the creaking bed springs, and Ginny can't tear her gaze from Harry's even as their rhythm rises to a fever pitch. Even as his hand drags her leg higher and brings them even closer, sends her senses haywire.

Until her back arches in pleasure and his mouth ceases its open mouthed exploration of hers and seeks lower - dragging, teasing, biting, as she cries out.

His own shout is muffled against her throat as the shockwaves ripple through their sweat sheened bodies, as Ginny tries to pull him closer though there's no need. As Harry nuzzles her rumpled hair and presses kisses anywhere and everywhere he can find.

It's as if the storm followed their lead, wind and rain departing and leaving behind a soft breeze and silvery moonlight to graze their bare skin and the new world.