Yeah, that's about what she expected. Right down to the thread of desire that pulls taut within her, Adora's whimper crystal clear to Catra's ears and just not enough.

(She really can't wait to get those private accommodations.)

She sits back up, releasing Adora's neck unceremoniously and resting on her haunches over Adora's thighs, hand still in place on her crotch. Catra's sharp eyes dart around, looking for anything at all to use; but their bunks are austere as ever. The only things available are the blanket, and Adora's pillow.

"Pick something to shove in your mouth," she instructs in a hiss, pressing her fingers pointedly down, feeling them slip between the crevice of Adora's thighs. She's forgotten her nails already, but they're standard-issue shorts; they shouldn't get torn up too easily. (And she can already imagine how Adora must feel beneath them, slick and hot; can imagine the glide of her across Catra's fingers, wetter than Catra's ever gotten herself. She wants that, too - wants every bit of Adora - but that's too risky in a dormitory bunk. Catra doesn't know if it's just her sensitive nose, but the scent of pleasure isn't exactly a subtle one; and again, they really cannot get caught.) "Use the pillow."