It wouldn't be Catra if she didn't immediately call her bluff, Adora knows, but god-- does she have to make it that difficult? How is she supposed to stand by her words now, when the drag of Catra's knuckles has her hips bucking and an all too needy moan filtering past her teeth? She thinks of last night, how intoxicating it felt to have Catra's fingers work against her as she rubbed against her knee, and she-- she's supposed to say no to that?

Catra's a jerk.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Adora releases her hold on the shirt, letting it flutter back onto the roof. A sigh as she settles above Catra, willing the muscles in her thighs to unclench.

Then, with her freed hand, she grabs Catra's other wrist-- yanking it back from between her legs and planting it, too, beside Catra's head. Adora's face is bright red, but her jaw is set and her brow furrowed low, determination etched over the adrenaline and want.

"Won't I, Catra?" She leans in closer, chest grazing chest-- but not quite so close that Catra could seal the distance between their lips. "You really wanna test that?"