Catra balks at the hand in her face, and her hand does shoot up from Adora's thigh to grab it, the blanket settling haphazardly across them with the movement. With her other hand she releases Adora's chin, quickly grabbing at her other wrist.

Her now ragged breathing has nothing to do with exertion, and neither does the breathless laugh that huffs from her lips.

"You -- you're seriously getting off on this." It's amazement in her tone, because all this time. All this time when she's been trying to get this sort of reaction from Adora, and all she had to do was... cry a little? Make herself seem weak? Let Adora take care of her?

This somehow seems like the incorrect conclusion to be drawing, but Catra's brain isn't home right now.