Draco isn't used to asking, forget about begging for these sort of things. It's the sort of thing he'd have to be brought into, pushed, perhaps roughly into. Chances are, of course, that he would quietly, perhaps I admittedly love every moment of it. There's a sharp gasp, the way his body briefly tenses as he sucks in a harsh breath at the loss of those fingers as well as the warmth of Snape's mouth over his cock. Of course, in a way it's a good thing, gives him a moment to breathe, when he likely wouldn't have lasted too much longer like that.

He gasps, an involuntary shudder of his hips as the head of Snape's cock, slick and hot presses against his entrance. Fingers grab at his thigh, pulling it up to catch against Snape's hip, and he moans, only to be silenced as the man catches his mouth in a hard kiss. It's slow as Snape starts to sink into Draco, his body slowly giving, accepting, stretching to his girth that's thicker than the press of his fingers. His body trembles, clings tight to Snape even as he tries to stay relaxed, to not tense; he can't quite help the one brief moment when he forgets.

Draco arches, lifts his hips and slowly tries to help, to fit Snape into his body more deeply as his fingers cling to him. His body trembles, pauses, he's so full of want, but it's just more than what he can take and it draws a whine from his lips that he tries to muffle in Snape's shoulder.