Neville fucks her through it, bless him, grunting as he refuses to slow down for her spasming walls. She’s limp afterward, sliding farther forward on the ground, until Neville slides one big hand into her hair at the base of her braid and uses the other on her wrists to pull her upright as he sits back on his own heels. She blinks, dazed, held against the flannel of his shirt with a hand at her chest. He fucks up into her, breath hot against her ear, and takes advantage of the new position to explore her breasts. He pulls and pinches and twists and tugs until she’s writhing, mewling.