"Fuck," he groaned, pressing forward and filling her to the hilt. He held there, moaning when she swallowed convulsively around him, and waited until her cheeks were red before pulling back to let her breathe and then pushing in again. He repeated this again and again, gradually increasing the speed, until the only sounds were the wet gulps as he filled her throat, and the sudden gasps as she pulled in air whenever he gave her a chance to breathe. Eventually he was thrusting rapidly, setting a pattern of a few deep thrusts and then pulling back to let her breathe before thrusting deeply again. Hermione moaned at the erotic sensation of him filling her throat as her lips stretched to accommodate him with every slide. She felt his control slipping, and she felt proud that she could give him this, excited to push him over the edge with just the gift of her submission. With a shudder, he thrust forward, his hips jolting as he came, spilling himself inside the welcoming recesses of her warm throat before pulling back, kneeling down with her as she swallowed the remnants that had landed on her tongue and lips. He brushed his lips against her forehead and kissed her, softly, as if she were a fragile, precious thing. She smiled, amused by the contrast to his rather rough use of her throat just seconds ago. 