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Summary
“Beautiful,” he murmured, his voice filled with a strange mix of pride and possessiveness. “Look at you, all tied up and ready for me.”
Hermione’s heart raced, her body thrumming with anticipation as Draco picked up a small vial from the table beside them. He uncorked it, the scent of the oil inside filling the air—a mix of herbs and something more potent, something that made Hermione’s pulse quicken with curiosity.
“Do you know what this is?” Draco asked, his tone almost conversational as he poured a small amount of the oil into his palm.
Hermione shook her head, her eyes locked on the vial in his hand, her body quivering with anticipation.
“It’s enchanted,” Draco explained, his voice a low purr as his hand moved lower, spreading the oil over her stomach, her thighs, her breasts. “It heats on contact. I wonder how much you can take.”