Hermione's fingers curled around his cock through his boxers and Draco made a stifled wanting sound, thrusting into her hand with small needy movements, their kiss faltering. His mouth dragged from hers, his tongue laving hot tracks down her throat that made her womb clench and her clit ache for his touch. She was wrapped in lust, suffocated by it and she told herself that they were hormonal teenagers, trying to justify her frantic, breathless need to herself. Hormonal teenagers. Merlin, she wanted him. She shoved his jeans down further with impatient, jerky motions, and then his boxers followed and her fingers were on his bare silky-hot cock, squeezing and sliding up and down by turns.