She is trying to catch her breath, okay, and it's hard with Adora's lips fluttering light kisses all around hers. It tickles, and Catra huffs a somewhat giddy laugh as she catches Adora's lips and presses on them firmly with her own to stop them.
Adora is such a suck-up, always determined to learn everything as quickly as she can to show off against the rest of the squad, and Catra is quite frankly enjoying being the one with all the skills and knowledge for once. So there's a grin on her lips when she kisses Adora's once, twice, three times in quick succession, drifting more and more off-center with each until the final one is dropped on the corner of Adora's mouth; and then Catra pulls back to sit on her knees atop her, eyes bright and tail brushing in languid strokes behind her.
There's the flushed, thoroughly kissed look she'd be after. Adora's lips aren't as red as some soldiers have been - were they biting each-other? It's the only thing Catra can think of. She can definitely do that, but Adora will probably complain - but the flush on her face makes up for it, and Catra's grin widens. No matter that she's still quietly recovering as well, or that she really, really wants Adora to just. Touch her in literally any way. Adora looks like a bit of mess, and she's the one who did that.
Her own hand on Adora's wrist is probably impeding that desire to be touched, so Catra takes both of her hands back. And then kinda -- isn't sure what to do with them, and Adora's chest is right there, so. Back to cup her hands around those curves it is. She likes them, anyway, so it's not like it's an ordeal to give them each a satisfied squeeze.
"What d'you wanna learn?" She asks. Her voice has dropped to that deep, rich rasp again, all but purring out of her throat, and Catra's tongue runs over her reddened lips with it.
If it's up to her, she knows what she wants to do - in fact she's already trailing her hands down from Adora's breasts, over her stomach, down to pull up the hem of her shirt. She has spent way, way too much time looking at Adora and thinking about touching Adora and imagining the heat of Adora's skin. So Catra is absolutely not pausing for anyone or anything before slipping her hands up under the hem, splaying her fingers on the warmth there. It shouldn't be as invigorating as it is, just doing that, and yet.
"You seriously never touched yourself anywhere before?" she curls the fingers of one hand, minding last night's reprimand - "no claws" - and drags her knuckles down the firm muscles of Adora's stomach. "--Not even here?"
no subject
Adora is such a suck-up, always determined to learn everything as quickly as she can to show off against the rest of the squad, and Catra is quite frankly enjoying being the one with all the skills and knowledge for once. So there's a grin on her lips when she kisses Adora's once, twice, three times in quick succession, drifting more and more off-center with each until the final one is dropped on the corner of Adora's mouth; and then Catra pulls back to sit on her knees atop her, eyes bright and tail brushing in languid strokes behind her.
There's the flushed, thoroughly kissed look she'd be after. Adora's lips aren't as red as some soldiers have been - were they biting each-other? It's the only thing Catra can think of. She can definitely do that, but Adora will probably complain - but the flush on her face makes up for it, and Catra's grin widens. No matter that she's still quietly recovering as well, or that she really, really wants Adora to just. Touch her in literally any way. Adora looks like a bit of mess, and she's the one who did that.
Her own hand on Adora's wrist is probably impeding that desire to be touched, so Catra takes both of her hands back. And then kinda -- isn't sure what to do with them, and Adora's chest is right there, so. Back to cup her hands around those curves it is. She likes them, anyway, so it's not like it's an ordeal to give them each a satisfied squeeze.
"What d'you wanna learn?" She asks. Her voice has dropped to that deep, rich rasp again, all but purring out of her throat, and Catra's tongue runs over her reddened lips with it.
If it's up to her, she knows what she wants to do - in fact she's already trailing her hands down from Adora's breasts, over her stomach, down to pull up the hem of her shirt. She has spent way, way too much time looking at Adora and thinking about touching Adora and imagining the heat of Adora's skin. So Catra is absolutely not pausing for anyone or anything before slipping her hands up under the hem, splaying her fingers on the warmth there. It shouldn't be as invigorating as it is, just doing that, and yet.
"You seriously never touched yourself anywhere before?" she curls the fingers of one hand, minding last night's reprimand - "no claws" - and drags her knuckles down the firm muscles of Adora's stomach. "--Not even here?"