The junction of her neck and shoulder was wet with his tears and his fingers were digging cruelly hard into her hip, and he was making little sounds of pain and pleasure that made her twitch and clench hard around his cock, buried so deep inside her. Draco thrust into her until it hurt deliciously, and the pleasure built and built, and yet Hermione kept thinking of him begging Lucius to stop, to not do it, and sick nausea mingled with her pleasure, and strangely – wrongly – both created the same roiling tightness in her belly. It was awful and it was amazing, and the feeling was jarring and discordant and Hermione was too lost to care.