Nothing belongs to me.
LXXXIII: Noise
"Make any noise and I'll kill you." Draco growled, pressing the blade of the knife into her neck.
He could feel her panicked breath, warm on the hand clamped firmly over her mouth.
He pulled her body closer to his own, the Weasley girl shuddering as he did so.
They stood unmoving for several seconds and then, Draco felt something warmer (and wetter) than her breath upon his palm: it was her tongue.
He didn't lessen his grip; Draco had been expecting this. Well not this, but biting or something…not this.
Draco was appalled by the goose bumps that erupted on his neck. He was even more horrified by the torrent of thoughts that followed.
Thoughts of tongue running over things – other than his palm.