He stepped closer, hands dropping to support her ass as her back smacked flush to the wall, lips angled towards her neck. But he stilled, stopped himself before his mouth made contact with her skin. Managed to somehow, impossibly, find some hidden reserve of inner strength. Of restraint. As if she sensed this, Granger ground her hips forward as she pressed those lovely breasts against his chest, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. "Please, Blaise. Fuck me good. Fuck me hard. I need you." And he snapped. His lips latched onto skin, his hands roamed and wandered and dug in and this was so fucking wrong but she was moaning and he was pounding her into the wall with his hips, and his cock was aching and she was guiding his mouth to her pink nipples and then his pants were off and they were naked and she was bending over and he was inside her. Jesus fucking Christ he was inside her and she was hot and wet and so goddamned tight. The slap of skin, the wet sounds her cunt made as he slid out of her, the feeling of her small hand reaching back to cup his balls nearly sent him over the edge, right then and there. The chair she was holding onto squealed across the linoleum before slamming into the nearest wall and still he wouldn't stop. Couldn't stop. One hand gripping her waist hard enough to bruise, the other tangled in her hair, pulling it back, he fucked her like she'd asked. Hard. Fucked her like he'd wanted to the moment he'd seen her gorgeous tits. Dirty. Fucked her so good he hoped she'd forget about everything but him.