He felt so amazing that Ginny nearly wept with it, or she might have if she wasn't too busy moaning and gasping for breath and crying out his name. She trembled every time he stroked within her, each quiver of her body making her blood surge. The rhythm of their bodies took over and there was nothing but sensation and friction and the deep-rooted knowledge that she never wanted him to stop, never wanted it to end, even if she thought the passion she felt was so overwhelming she might burst into flame somehow.
She'd lost any ability to form words, and the only thing that fell from her lips were moans and cries, in between desperate yet pointless gasps for breath. Her fingers raked down over her back, too far gone to care if her nails were biting into his skin just a bit. She was lost in him, lost to him, to the feeling of him thick inside of her. Her blood seemed to be pulsing and swelling in her temples, her breasts and oh, deep inside of her where the heat began to twist into a tight spiral. "Harry, Harry, Harry, oh-"