"Circe, I want this. I want you." She moans, her hips shifting upwards as she craves more and more contact. "I want you to talk dirty to me, to peel back every inch of lace. I want you to have me." The elder witch hooks two fingers on either side of the underwear Hermione chose that evening, listening intently as the younger witch gasps at the feeling of the woman’s lips between her hip bones. It took too long for her tongue to tease its way into Hermione, her tongue gently nudging her clit, the other woman was merely sampling for now. "Fuck." She gasps.