Antonin sat on the bed with his back leaned up against the headboard watching Ginny untie the flimsy belt at her waist. Completely naked himself, he smiled so brightly that his dimples were on prominent display. She couldn't hear what they were saying. Her heart was beating too loudly in her ears. Once the dressing gown fell to the floor in a pool at her feet, her husband's latest mistress crawled onto the bed to straddle Antonin's hips. Perhaps Draco's visit interrupted them in the middle of their pleasurable morning alone. Fearing she might vomit, but unable to look away, Hermione could see him thrust inside Ginny's body like he'd already been there a hundred times before. With one hand on her pale arse and the other fisted in her long red locks, he forced the witch's lips to his. The sound of a deep guttural moan she'd heard countless times over thirteen years snapped Hermione out of the trance that she was in watching her husband's adulterous activity.