"I just like hearing your voice," Adora replies, unabashed. She especially likes it as it is now: ochre-rich and low, warmed through with satisfaction.
The more open Catra is with her demands -- be it the arch of her back, the crane of her neck -- the more eagerly Adora fulfills them, greedy fingers sinking into any proffered expanse of fur. She follows the tilt of Catra's chin to stroke underneath it, run her hand along neck and collarbone too, before being summoned to Catra's unoccupied ear. She dutifully mirrors the movements of her other hand there, watching her girlfriend's head tilt this way and that, her lips parted, dark lashes aflutter.
She wants to touch her more. She wants to touch her all over. And it's incredibly difficult to banish the thought, when she had Catra in such a deliciously compromising position just twenty minutes before.
"Catra," Adora draws in a breath, then pushes all the words out on the following exhale: "Can I pet your tummy again I promise I won't tickle this time, pleeeaaase?
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The more open Catra is with her demands -- be it the arch of her back, the crane of her neck -- the more eagerly Adora fulfills them, greedy fingers sinking into any proffered expanse of fur. She follows the tilt of Catra's chin to stroke underneath it, run her hand along neck and collarbone too, before being summoned to Catra's unoccupied ear. She dutifully mirrors the movements of her other hand there, watching her girlfriend's head tilt this way and that, her lips parted, dark lashes aflutter.
She wants to touch her more. She wants to touch her all over. And it's incredibly difficult to banish the thought, when she had Catra in such a deliciously compromising position just twenty minutes before.
"Catra," Adora draws in a breath, then pushes all the words out on the following exhale: "Can I pet your tummy again I promise I won't tickle this time, pleeeaaase?