[ Her head is rolling back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut with small sounds leaving the back of her throat as she tries to be quiet. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she's still vaguely aware of where they are. Last thing she needs is to start making so much noise that people come looking for the source.
And yet, that kind of caution doesn't last long. Her hips rock on his fingers, her own hand still working him as a strangled sort of cry comes from her. She's almost--she grips his hand harder. ]
no subject
And yet, that kind of caution doesn't last long. Her hips rock on his fingers, her own hand still working him as a strangled sort of cry comes from her. She's almost--she grips his hand harder. ]
Poe.
[ Almost. Almost. ]