“Aah!” Vi grunts and her hips buck against Cait’s mouth. She bites against her own knuckles to keep herself grounded and settled, even if little jolts still shake her fully.

It’s intense, this closeness, having Cait right at her center, sensitive and focused and hungry. It’s almost too much, and she keeps her hands moving, from bed to Cait’s hair, to her own thighs. She doesn’t know what to with them, or herself for that matter.

“Cait,” she manages to groan out, throat shutting almost immediately after, her torso tending and coiling. “You’re—ah!” It takes a few breaths for her to get the rest out. “Good.“