After minutes, what feels like hours he finally starts to gather my dress around my hips. A very muted voice in the back of my mind wonders what Narcissa might think if she knew her son was going to fuck me while wearing this dress and against a bookshelf. She will be fine with it. I focus my mind back to the present, feeling his fingers caress my thigh. Every so slowly they move closer to my hot and wet core. I buck my hips forward, demanding more of him. I pull harder on his hair, trying to get him to act faster. He pulls away, out of my reach, before grabbing both my wrists in one of his hands and holding them above my head.