He clutched her tighter with his broken, maimed arm and then winced, a small sound of pain that reverberated in Hermione’s mouth and skin and bones and somehow, somehow made her just want him more. Her breath shortened and her blood thrummed quicker. She could feel it pulsing in her fingertips where they curled into her palms as she clutched fistfuls of Draco’s hair increasingly tightly. His mouth broke from hers and Hermione mewled with unashamed need. Draco couldn’t stop now. He couldn’t. That would be too cruel. Her mind was blurred and tingling warm and Hermione whimpered and dragged on Draco’s hair roughly, trying to yank his mouth back to hers.