Wanting to make them work for it, Hermione silently swore to fight her next orgasm. There was a dull ache thrumming from her hips, pleasant and painful all at once with every thrust of Dressed-Draco’s hips. At this unbelievable angle, not a slave the height or softness of a mattress, or the solid angle of a table beneath her, his cock was reaching parts of her she’d never felt before.