Ginny had tried to keep from letting her movements get frantic as she brushed down his trousers and boxers, but a hint of it had still slipped through. That was forgotten, though, the moment he was as naked as she was, all bare limbs and muscles and warm skin and Godric, he was gorgeous. Her hands brushed down over his back, his sides, his hips, curving around as she tried to touch every inch of him she could reach. She wanted to map out his body, to memorize the feel of him beneath her fingers, and at the same time she just wanted. Wanted him. Ached for him, really, ached for him to be as close as he could possibly be.
Ginny's response to the way he said her name, the plea within it, was to moan again, nodding instinctively as she parted her legs for him. "Yes." But then, deep within the hazy recesses of her mind, a flash of a thought occurred. "Wait," she gasped out, though it had nothing to do with her wanting him to stop. Giving a whimpered sound, Ginny reached out, fumbling on the nightstand until she found her wand where she'd left it earlier. Picking it up, she pointed it at herself and softly cast a contraceptive charm. (The thought that she needed to go on something now was fleeting, but she would remember it later.)
With that done, Ginny tossed the wand aside and reached out for Harry again. One of her hands found his side and the other brushed down until she found him where he pressed, hard and hot, against her thigh. Her fingers curled around him and she moaned in response, hesitantly brushing her hand down and hoping she was doing this right. As her hand tentatively began to stroke up and down, she met his eyes and murmured, "Please, Harry. I want you, I'm ready..."