She wouldn't let him slip through her grasp again.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, almost his height while she kneeled on the bed. Winding his arms around her waist, he held her tight to him and kissed her so fiercely she could hardly breathe.

His hands started wandering. And when both palms had a handful of her backside — kneading and inching her knickers to the side — she lolled her head back and let him kiss down her throat. One long finger stroked over her soaked entrance and she keened. His mouth trailed down and caught her breast between his lips as his fingers slipped slowly inside of her.

Her hands were on his shoulders, nails digging into his torn shirt, her eyes squeezed closed and her lips parted and panting. He hummed with her nipple in his mouth, and her toes curled.

"Draco…"

He released her breast and stood tall again, his fingers starting shallow movements inside of her as his mouth claimed hers. His free hand nudged her knees wider, and he slipped further inside of her.

She moaned as he kissed her, clutching him as he played her like an instrument. She felt herself growing wetter with each pull of his lips and drag of his palm over her side.

His hand came up to cover her breast, and she panted into his shoulder as his thumb brushed softly over her nipple.

"Feel good?"

She trembled at the vibration of his chest. The pulse of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. She needed all of him.

"More…"

A sharp inhale of breath as he withdrew his finger and helped her slide her knickers down her thighs. She tried to kick them off the rest of the way, but his hand was already back at her core, slipping over her from the front this time. She whimpered and arched her chest into his hand, begging him to keep touching her.

Two fingers slid through her folds, dragging through the wetness and swirling up to her clit. He plucked her nipple with rough fingers and she gasped, dragging her nails over his chest.

Her eyes drifted open and caught on the shredded front of his shirt. Her fingers made quick work of the buttons. She kissed across his sternum, tracing her lips over the shallow scratch marks.

Dittany. He needed dittany or else he would scar.

He didn't need any more scars.

She opened her mouth to tell him, and he chose that moment to press down on her clit.

Her hips jumped, and she sighed into his chest. His other fingers tweaked her nipple, and she felt her thighs tremble.

She moved swiftly over the rest of his buttons, needing to see him — needing proof he was alive, that he wasn't going anywhere. Needing to make him burn as brightly as she was burning.

Her hands dropped to his belt, and a ragged exhale poured from his throat into her hair.

The hand on her breast lifted to her face, and he met her lips as he rubbed her clit. She moaned into his mouth, leaning into him and quickly unbuttoning his trousers. His tongue tangled with hers as her fingers dipped into his boxers and wrapped around him.