It took almost no time for him to finish, and she only knew it was about to happen because he released his iron grip, letting her pull back, let her choose—without thinking, she sealed her lips tightly, sucking, latching, and  that  was what undid him, sent him down her throat in a dozen jerking spurts, and she  swallowed  like she was one of those coy, knowing seventh-years who had boys trailing behind them, swallowed like she had been ordered to, swallowed like he had asked. 