It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for Draco to cum, his rhythm quickening out of control, buried to the hilt as he came in her. Pleasure seized him, rolling through him, crushing him beneath it, his face buried in the crook of her neck, gasping his pleasure hot into her skin, fingers spasming hard on her hip. And then it was done, and over, and he was exhausted and he sank himself onto her limply, panting like he'd run a marathon, heart pounding and body lighting up with fiery licks of pain. Hermione jerked in a shallow breath as though he was squishing her, but when he tried to roll off her, she held him there with her legs locked around his hips and her fingers ran through his hair over and over, and he sighed into the crook of her neck, contented and drowsy.