Her little squeal of surprise emboldened him, his hand threading through her hair. It yearned to tighten, to wrench her head back so that he might graze his teeth along her neck.
Learn what sort of sounds she’d make then.
He bucked against her before easing out and pounding back in, taking her harshly. Any other woman would have broken by now, but she clung to him with one arm around his neck, rocking her hips to meet each rough thrust. Soundproofed walls contained her cries, her moans, but he wanted more. Severus wanted her screams. He wanted her skin flush and slick with sweat. He wanted to see her become the same as he, two creatures of unbridled passion.
“You are dangerous, Moira,” he growled, slipping a hand under the back of her head and grasping her hair. “Do you know that? More dangerous than I could ever be…”