She wanted to tell Draco she loved him, as he moved inside her and made her twitch and twist with delicious, hot, pleasure. She held the words inside and her chest ached with the effort not to let them burst out, but she didn't want to risk breaking the moment. Didn't want to ruin what she had. And Draco was moving faster, and his breath was raggedly irregular, and Hermione didn't want it to end yet, she wanted to come too, and as incredible and wrenching and ohgodsogood as it was, she knew she wasn't going to. Not this time. And Hermione didn't know if there would ever be another time.