He kissed her again, his mouth seeking hers and finding it unerringly, her lips warm and soft and her tongue hot, and he groaned at the feel of her, at the fierce want vibrating through her, palpable and greedy. Draco clung to her, tipped them both over clumsily so that he pinned her between himself and the bed, half-mindless with the lingering confusion and the intoxicating feel of her. Hermione's legs wrapped around his hips, and her hands stroked over his cheeks, rasping over the stubble there, and he kissed her hard enough to clash their teeth together, sucked on her lower lip, bit it lightly, made her moan and whimper. He dragged his mouth away and nuzzled her neck, his cock hard and digging into her, and he tilted his hips so that he bumped it against her clit and she made a delicious, meltingly wanting sound that nearly made him cum in his bloody trousers, her body arching up off the bed to meet his.