He should be outraged, he should disarm her on the spot, throw her in a dungeon and have her suffer the most horrible and painful compilation of deaths he could come up with for days. But instead he found himself pent up and aroused by the series of events that had transpired in the last few minutes. His frustration towards the witch had driven him to snap her neck, she had put him through the most delicious round of torture in return, and now he just needed one thing. So he settled for a smirk and the second she mirrored his expression, he took it as his queue to pull her with his spasming hands grabbing her face and plunging at her mouth, going straight for that lip that had been his fixation for days and sucking on it without mercy. He could care less if the little witch decided to bring another round of Cruciatus, because the truth was, he could take it all night too. When he bit her lip with a vengeance, she rewarded him with a moan and a set of small hands carded through his hair grabbing for purchase. 