It's that Next time, and that last tightening of her thighs clenching around him, and her hands planted on his shoulders for stability as she leans forward and picks up the pace, which starts to usher them towards the end. Draco's still trying to keep up his mumbling narration of what he'd like to do to her, but he's sliding further into incoherence, distraction. His fingers dig into Hermione's hips as she rides him mercilessly, stoking that pleasure higher and higher until—

it's like a string finally snaps, Draco bucking up into her as he mouths one last strangled I want to; but then his words fall apart into an unintelligible groan as he comes. He pushes up, muscles straining beneath her, tensing and coiling as he presses another messy kiss to her mouth; and to help drag her the rest of the way with him, his hand slips between them to where he's still buried inside her, dips low to find her clit again and stroke her to that edge.