Vi bites the inside of her lip as Cait kisses her fingers. Each kiss sends little pulses of electricity through her nerves and her jaw tenses in an effort to stay still. She's never told Cait this -- it's not like the opportunity has really come up -- but her hands, despite how their roughness, are very sensitive. Soft, warm touches, gentle lips, it travels directly to her center.

No, she has to stay calm and even. Cait trusted her enough to invite her here alone, she's not going to betray that.

Not harshly, Vi pulls her hand away and uses it to push herself onto her back (hiding her hand under herself to ease the tickles and tingles). "Pff, as if I'd miss the opportunity to beat you at foosball." Her tone is loud, a brick shattering through a very delicate and quiet moment.