Another squeeze of his fingers around her throat set of a low warning bell in Hermione's head as the ache between her legs abated as quickly as it had built. Too hard. His grip was becoming too much, her breathing was becoming labored for an entirely different reason now. Her eyes opened as she tried to swivel out of his grasp. He only gave a low hum in response to her efforts. "Or maybe you already have. Maybe you've already opened those lovely thighs, let him taste you." The hand that had been gripping his shirt came up to push against his stomach, his chest. Anywhere she could reach. But he didn't budge, didn't even seem to notice. "How was he, Minnie? Did he make you come? Did you think of me when he was inside you?" The knee in between her legs rose, brushing her core and she felt tears gather in her eyes. For the first time ever, Hermione was afraid of the wizard in front of her. He had never hurt her, not physically (barring the unfortunate tooth incident that wasn't really aimed at her, specifically). He'd never once touched her without making sure she wanted him to. Although they'd been known to get a little... intense sometimes during sex, with his hand wrapped loosely around her throat, he had always checked in with her regularly, ensuring that she was okay, that she wanted it, and him. This was different. He was cutting off her oxygen, pushing into her intimately despite her struggles, and there wasn't a flicker of remorse, of guilt in those eyes.