

“Right, you were not wearing knickers. Still aren’t as a matter of fact…” he teased. His hand slid up and down her bare thigh.
She slapped his hand away with a monumental Hermione Granger glare.
“Stop that. I was wearing knickers and I still am!”
“Kinky, Granger. I suppose you are in charge of this dream, seeing as it was you who slipped one of the Twin’s daydream pills in my pumpkin juice earlier,” he eyed her with a scowl as he rubbed the part of his hand she slapped. “Don’t think I didn’t see that, either! This is YOUR fantasy, sweetheart, can’t blame me for it.”
“I did not!” She cried indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest before flushing a bright red. “Alright, I was curious what I would dream up,” she admitted softly. “And apparently, it involved me, you, miles of sand and apparently, you groping me excessively.”
She raised her brows. “Hmmm…”
(Source: waitingondhr)
There came another undulation from...eyelids fluttered shut at the feeling blossoming...
Her hips moved in age-old invitation against his retracting hand, the moisture on her soft lips, located beneath her...