There was no hesitation this time. She leaned into the coolness of his palms, the chill of the metal of his rings, and the contrasting hotness of his mouth. Hermione dragged her tongue across the seam of his lips, asking for permission. She could feel him smile, as he opened for her. She tasted the firewhiskey when he slowly slipped his tongue over her teeth and moaned softly, sending a white-hot quiver through her hips and up her spine. 