She goes to pull away, but now he’s grabbing her chin, pulling her back to his mouth. It seems he was content to allow her a turn to play, but now he has to assert himself. He takes charge, kissing with a sense of desperation that makes Hermione’s skin tingle. His tongue slips past hers, and his other hand is tight in her hair, pinning her still. There’s nothing to do but try to keep up, try to match his fervour, his need to dominate her entirely. She braces herself on the arm of the couch.