She thought with all her might, willing her mind to come apart and become convinced that she wasn’t on a hidden island, in a terrible place, having her throat abused by an abhorrent man. She was at home and the one fucking her was Draco. It was Draco. It was familiar. Erotic. A turn-on. Heat started pooling in her abdomen. During the thousands of times when they had fucked, she had learned to come from just about anything. Whispers, light touching, sucking him off. Uncontrollable. An automatic reaction. If it was Draco, her body reacted. But no. No, no, no. It shouldn’t. It wasn’t him. And she wasn’t supposed to enjoy it. Panic. Alarm bells.