...nexpectedly took all of him in.
He let a moan escape; this was too good to be true. Her warm saliva mixed with the thrusting power of her tongue and the contractions the cave of her mouth formed when she sucked sent chills and shivers throughout his body.
His thighs began to quiver uncontrollably, giving her the signal to wrap her arms around his backside and push him even farther, deep into the reaches of her throat.
He pulled his fingers through her hair, awaiting an earth-shattering climax.
That's when it hit him: This was not it, this was not to be their grand finale. Before he could waste his need for her on trivial foreplay, he took her hands and guided her off of her knees.
"Hermione," he whispered.
Realizing that he was not yet fully naked, Harry kicked his shoes and socks off, and struggled to yank his pants all the way to the floor with his feet.
He took Hermione's partially-clad body in his hands, holding her as though she were some precious gem and relishing her touch like he might a silk gown.
He reached around to her tailbone and unhooked her skirt, letting it fall about her ankles. He could no longer bother with patience. With a forceful tweak, the sidestrap on her panties ripped, and they dropped, useless, to the floor.