His tongue swirled around her nipple and she carded her fingers through the back of his hair, her eyes falling closed. Nothing around them mattered. The Ministry didn’t matter. Millicent didn’t matter. McLaggen’s warning didn’t matter. The world around her was an illusion — the only thing that felt real was this, the friction between them, the heat building in her core, the way her magic crackled as they merged into one, a canvas of flesh meant only for the two of them.