Hermione went up on tiptoes and kissed him more deeply, swaying into him and cupping his face in her hands hungrily, her lips moulding to his and her tongue flicking out teasing and greedy. His cheeks were sandpapery with the faintest shadow of stubble, and he tasted like the sweet wine he'd had at dinner. Sparks of want shot through her and made her need him in her, now. She felt like she wanted to push him down and bloody ravish him on the floor right there.