Adora lets out a little harrumph, as if she truly expected Catra to yield. Catra's never done anything without a fight. and in this moment, at least, Adora's perfectly content with that. She loves her flushed face, her bitten-back giggles -- how hard she's trying, and how hard she's failing, to keep it together throughout all this.

And her hand's upward path may be blocked, but Adora still has free rein to roam across her favorite stretch of fur, right between Catra's lower stomach and hipbone. She can feel her heart pound with exhilaration as her fingers curl and tease, and she leans down, cooing sweetly: "Are you suuure?"

Adora bends her neck, lower, closer, until her lips are mere inches from Catra's ear. "You only need to say it once, Catra."

And she blows a puff of warm air right into it, for good measure.