Draco was everything and all Hermione could feel was him, and her head spun, and he tasted like the hot burn of firewhiskey, and it felt like anger, and his hand cupped the side of her face, thumb stroking her cheek in a strangely tender contrast to their fierce kiss. Vertigo swam over her and Hermione shivered and twitched with dizzy want beneath him as his stubble rasped at the tender skin of her face, his mouth latching around her tongue and sucking on it, lashing over it in light, teasing strokes with his own tongue. She ached for him, wanting him to fill her. Now. Now.