"Trigonometry," Cait answers between kisses and licks. "Had a miserable time of it in secondary school."

The graze of Vi's blunt nails against her scalp is quietly electric, filling her head with static. It feels so good, touching her, being held close, every twitch and shiver running through Vi rippling out to her, too. She knows she was just about to hand her back the reins, but--

"I want to get you off again," Cait says decisively, angling her head to make eye contact as she bites down against nipple.