            This time, it was her turn to beg. "Please," Hermione whimpered, her lips seeking his as he cradled her tighter and flipped them both backwards onto the mattress. Caging her in from above, Lucius quickened his pace, hips snapping to meet hers, one hand like the sweetest vice around her throat, gentle enough not to bruise, firm enough to remind her who he was, who he had always been. "Lucius," Hermione moaned. "Plea—" With one deep thrust of his hips, the wave broke—her magic and pleasure shattered. With one final stroke, Lucius followed her over that crest in a cry of her name that had never sounded so right spilling from his lips.