The smooth stone was cold against her bare skin, and she shivered as he stepped between her legs and tugged her mouth down to his.

The table was too high. That was all she could think of as his hands rubbed her inner thighs, encouraging her to open wider as his lips caressed hers. There was no way he could enter her from this angle. She pulled back to tell him just that when he cupped her face, staring at her with blown pupils.

"Lay back," he whispered.

She frowned, trying to figure out how this would—

"Stop thinking, Granger."

Swallowing, she allowed him to push her down on the lab table. Once she was resting on her elbows, he tugged her hips to the edge and started pressing kisses to the inside of one knee. He met her eyes as his mouth trailed higher and higher.

"Oh, um…I'm not..." She felt her cheeks flame red. "Are you sure—?"

"I'm very sure." Another kiss, this one an inch above her knee. "Are you?"

She let her head fall back, cupping her hands over her face. "Right," she mumbled. "Um, that's fine, I guess. Er—yes."

A pause.

"Tell me, Granger, how does the Draught of Peace differ from a simple Calming Draught?"

She dropped her hands and tilted her head to gape at him as his lips moved closer to her core. "What?"

"The Draught of Peace," he murmured against her skin. "What are its properties?" He wrapped his arms under her thighs, curving his hands over her knees and staring up at her face.

"Oh." She cleared her throat. "Well, first of all, it's much stronger than a simple Calming—"

He dipped his head to kiss her hipbone, and the muscles in her stomach jumped.

"Go on?"

She blinked at him as he watched her, letting his tongue swipe across the skin he'd just kissed.

"I—I mean, of course it's stronger. But the most notable difference is that no Hellebore syrup is needed in the Calming Draught—oh!"

He pressed his lips directly on her core. Her legs instinctively tried to close, but he held her open. She grabbed the edges of the table, taking a shuddering breath.

"What else, Granger? Teach me."

The rasp in his voice sent a warmth through her belly, flushing her chest. "Significantly less Moonstone in the Calming Draught."

"Yes?"

"The Draught of Peace has very specific instructions, whereas the Calming Draught is less precise."

She squeaked as his tongue slid into her folds, gliding through her most private of places and dragging up, up, up to her clit. A moan escaped her, and her back arched off the table.

"Shouldn't—" Her chest heaved. "Shouldn't we do something for both of us? Wouldn't you rather have sex—"

"Nowhere else I'd rather be, Granger."

Before she could respond, he flicked his tongue over her clit, swirling and licking as she keened. Her thighs fought against his hands, and he pressed them open to the stone tabletop. She reached above her head and held onto the edge, screwing her eyes shut. She was so exposed like this—