As Blaise pulled her closer, lifting her dress up higher so that her knickers were nearly showing, her hands released the firm grip on his shirt and drifted between them to start working the buttons open. She needed to feel his skin under her hands, needed to feel those muscles pressed up against her.
He was the only man besides Harry she'd kissed in over twenty-seven years, and it sent fire through her veins, waking her up in a way that dizzied her. She hadn't even realized she'd been asleep, and yet it felt as if she'd been sleepwalking for far too long, going through the motions. But no more. Ginny Weasley was alive and awake and free.
She tugged the fabric to the sides, her hands pressing against his bare chest as she pushed his shirt toward his shoulders, not able to get it much further off than that while he was holding onto her. But that was all right, because she had plenty access to him now.