Frustrated that she couldn't even taste the pleasures of the flesh without second-guessing herself or her partner's motive, a low growl erupted from the back of her throat. Hermione's hand clutching his collar forced his mouth back to hers. Excited by her aggressiveness, the wizard enthusiastically attacked her mouth as she renewed her intentions to remove him of his clothes. A single light brush against the rising bulge in the man's trousers brought out an animalistic guttural resonance from him that she felt all the way to her pulsing core. Unsatisfied with how long it was taking her, Draco removed his wandering hands from her body to complete the process for her. His shirt was ripped off his chest so roughly she could've sworn she heard a rip in the fabric. The speed with which he removed his heavy boots and the rest of his damned clothes was impressive. If Hermione could've thought beyond divesting herself of the open and now useless robe, she might have had the presence of mind to compliment him or tease him for his eagerness.