Every cell in Hermione's body was afire. He hadn't been gentle when he pushed her to top of the mattress. There seemingly wasn't time to be respectful and careful. She didn't care. Not when she could feel the flames threatening to consume her if she didn't have an outlet. Once she lay exposed on the bed, Antonin relinquished his hold on her long enough to divest himself of every stitch of clothing he had on. The anticipation of what was going to come next excited her more than she could ever remember feeling. Was it because she'd finally admitted to her husband and most importantly, to herself, of her true feelings? She'd been unwilling to see what was in front of her for so long that opening up the door to the possibility was overwhelming.