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Summary
Hermione nearly cried out.
Draco slammed his other hand over her mouth.
"Shh," he hissed, lips brushing her ear. “You want him to hear you, little witch? Want him to know how wet you get for me? How tightly you grip my fingers like you were made to be ruined?”
Her eyes fluttered shut, breath catching.
“That’s right,” he purred. “Be quiet for me. You're doing so well for me. My perfect girl.”