She immediately threw up shields, partitioning off what she wanted kept away, and instead offered a lurid, delicious image instead, something to tantalise—a fantasy she had kept returning to, thinking back on, treasuring. Severus, his hands buried in her hair, driving his hips upwards, his cock buried in her mouth, as she looked up at him with deep, tearful eyes. She let him feel the clench of arousal, the desperate desire she had for him to take his pleasure, how she wanted him to  use  her. 