[ Her answer is a little half-amused hum of acknowledgement, as if any smartass retort is still too much work when she’s still trying to catch her breath. But she still manages to sit up on her forearms to follow him with her gaze as he settles back in between her legs - her eyes dark with some lingering heat as she watches him bow his head. Her thighs stay shamelessly open in invitation, only tensing reflexively at the press of his tongue - a little twitch of muscle, oversensitive nerves still jumpy so soon after.
She lets her weight rest on one side, reaching out with her other hand to brush his hair back from his face, just so she can see him better.
Finally, low and dry: ] You plan on cleaning up the rest of me too?
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She lets her weight rest on one side, reaching out with her other hand to brush his hair back from his face, just so she can see him better.
Finally, low and dry: ] You plan on cleaning up the rest of me too?