"Yes. Fuck yes. Feel free." Her hand slid and wriggled under his jockey shorts, and – oh god that was it. That was it. Hard and hot and velvety, her fingers, her hand – curling around it and grasping, her grip firm but not too hard, just like her research had told her. Draco whimpered involuntarily, and nuzzled his face into her hair, his breath hot and ragged on her temple, his hand cool under her shirt, on the bare skin of her waist.