They worked together quickly and desperately to get Draco’s clothes off. Boots went flying, socks, then jeans and his dark green henley. Hermione didn’t take the time to get a good look at the rest of Draco’s tattoo. Her focus was elsewhere –on Draco covering her with himself like a barrier between her and the rest of the world, his lips and tongue working the crook of her neck once more. He was hard and aching under his boxer-briefs, pressing snug against her core. 