While the thought of being bared to him like this once would have mortified her, it now only ignited a fire in her veins that would surely consume her at any instant.  And Draco, it seemed, was done waiting to reacquaint himself.  He buried his face between her thighs and licked up her center with the flat of his tongue.  Over, and over again.  He lapped up her wetness and she couldn’t help but lift up and grind against his face.  She felt wanton in a way that was so completely freeing.  Hermione had only ever felt that way with Draco.  With the man now completely worshiping her.