They struggled with each other's arms until he grabbed both of her hands, pinning them to the mattress and whispering a Sticking Charm. He climbed over her hips, holding her legs down with his weight.

She jerked her torso and caught sight of his eyes.

Dead.

Irises black with arousal.

But there was no glint of enjoyment.

When he caught her staring, he smirked down at her, grabbed her jaw, and said, "You want me to fuck your mouth again, Granger?"

Her eyes went wide. She sucked in air. "Draco—"

He pushed his palm against her mouth, silencing her. "Not interested in your opinion."

With his hand covering her lips, he reached with his other to below his waist. Her eyes followed, and she found him stroking himself.

She choked, blinking away quickly.

"I thought I got rid of this," he growled, and then his hands were on her satin slip, ripping the fabric down the middle, and tearing her bra apart. "Much better."

She was exposed. Her breasts heaving under his gaze, a sob choking in her throat. Naked for the first time. She watched one hand return to stroking himself, the other against her stomach, pressing down.

His eyes were hungry, drinking in her naked chest. Something flickered behind the grey, and he wet his lips.

The hand on her stomach slipped against the rumpled satin, and then his fingers were under the swell of her breast, hot on her skin.

He grunted, his hips thrusting into his hand. She watched his features glaze over briefly before turning icy again, his gaze back to her face.

"Gonna paint my name on your tits, Granger."

She could do nothing but exist underneath him as he jerked his hand. When a slow tear trailed out of her left eye, he reached forward and turned her face to the side.

She stared at the wall, concentrating on the colors there.

Her bedside table with a hair tie.

An empty jewelry box.

She heard his breath catch. She assumed he was close to being done.

The hand pressing her face away slipped, his fingers tumbling into her hair, grabbing the curls.

A strangled moan. And then something wet hitting her chest.

He stayed like that, his hand clutching her hair, catching his breath.

He sat up. A Vanishing Charm to her bra, and a Repairing Charm to her satin slip.

He dismounted, unstuck her hands, and stood by the bed. "Get up. The Dark Lord is here."

She stared at the ceiling, how the bedposts stretched towards it.

She heard him button his trousers.

"Get moving, or I'll drag you." His voice broke on the word 'drag.' She heard a click from his throat, an infinitesimal swallow, pushing something back down.

Her chest was shaking and still tacky with his spend.

You know how I feel about these tits, Granger.

She blinked, like a twitch.

The Dark Lord was here.

She dragged herself off the bed, creeping towards the wall.

Her legs gave out after just a few steps. She pushed herself to her knees, eyes screwed shut to block everything out. Heat crackling beneath her skin. The smell of something burning. Maybe it was her.