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It's supposed to be a secret, Catra's made that much clear. And Adora gets it, of course! Totally gets it. It's not like she'd want to tell anyone about Catra grinding down against her the night before, her hip between her thighs, her hand on her breast, her teeth on her neck. That's-- that's just between the two of them.

But the fact that it's just between the two of them makes it all the more exciting, and Adora's been having a terrible time keeping a lid on her giggly energy all throughout the day. She's accumulated at least six counts of stop it, idiot from Catra by the end of dinner, just because she can't hold back her grin whenever they lock eyes, or when they touch.

Like in their afternoon sparring session, when Catra'd knocked her over and pinned her to the ground, and Adora's heart fluttered right up to her throat and all she could do was laugh and Catra blushed and that's. Definitely not acceptable cadet behavior, she gets that.

But she just can't help herself.

She makes her way through dinner in record time, practically buzzing in her seat in anticipation for the day's end. And just as soon as the two of them have finished eating, she latches onto Catra's side, bumping their shoulders and elbows together with a broad, eager smile.

"Hey. Hey. Hey. Race you to the rooftop."

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Wow, Adora really does get off on that. It's kind of hilarious, actually, how she groans so quietly; Catra's ears twitching towards the sound as she stifles the urge to laugh. She'd be offended, but she's kind of proud, in a weird way? It's warm and tender in her chest, soothing down the humiliation -- because Adora responded to her right away, reaching immediately to pull Catra's hip up. Catra might be the one on her back, she might be the one who's tied up and shifting eagerly into Adora's hand, but even now she's got Adora wrapped around her little finger. She could probably make her do anything she wants, and that knowledge feels... thrilling, in its own way.

It's a win for Catra. Because she's not being weak, when she parts her legs readily for Adora's awkward knee or when she rubs her chest insistently against her stilled fingers. She's just giving Adora what she wants, when she whines low in her throat, her shoulders pushing impossibly further against the roof to grind herself firmly against Adora's leg. It's not a good angle for her, but the tensing of Adora's body when she rocks into her makes Catra's thighs clench anyway, her stomach rolling down to tilt her hips in search of the best point of friction for herself.

A noise of denial is about the smartest reply Catra can manage, her eyelids fluttering open to look at Adora, a tremor running through her body as she finally - finally - manages to graze the almost throbbing bundle of nerves between her legs against Adora. Even as her eyes squint and her lips purse against her own quiet whimper, it's no trouble at all to keep her gaze soft, vulnerable; pleading. Giving Adora what Catra's certain, now, she'll respond to. Catra could totally get off like this, now that she's managed that one brief spark. It probably wouldn't even take her very long; especially not if Adora keeps rocking into her.

But Catra's not debasing herself for that. Adora's fingers are pressing firmly into her hip, and Catra wants those. Wants them on, around -- in her, the way she can't trust herself to manage with her claws. If she's gonna be stuck down here, relying on Adora's clumsy moves to bring her relief, then she's going to make sure it's at least worth it.

"Adora," she whines, quiet and wanting. Catra drags her hips up on Adora's leg, canting up and pressing in as she draws a deep, long breath. She can feel the rough fabric of her underwear shifting, slick and sticky, with the lift of each roll, and the thought that Adora is probably just the same, just as wet and aching, pools another wave of heat within her. Catra wants to feel her, too; and her nails scrape the backs of her palms as her hands tense, yearning to touch.

"You still wanna learn, right?" Catra's careful to keep her voice soft, rasping lightly against the sides of her throat even as it lilts with the hint of a tease. She's testing her luck with what Adora will allow as she shifts her bound hands down to the fly of Adora's pants, but she's confident she can get away with it as long as she keeps this half-act up; dragging over the seam of the zip with the sides of her fingers and pressing into her, massaging low on her crotch in example as she stills her own hips and shifts back minutely, making just enough room to create an invitation. "--Go on and put your hand down there."

Adora watches Catra twist underneath her, understanding at the very least that she needs to give her more, but unsure as to how. She tries to move in tandem, help find that sweet spot, that right angle -- and for a moment Catra whimpers and shivers so prettily that she thinks she's got it, but no, it's still not enough.

She can still give Catra more.

"Yeah, I do," Adora answers without a moment's hesitation, so eager and breathless that her voice squeaks a bit. Any hint of her earlier teasing has by now gone up in smoke, sealed for good by the whine that runs up her throat at Catra's demonstration. The contact makes her instantly, irrevocably aware of just how hot she is between her thighs, how the dampened fabric (with sweat, or something more--?) clings to her skin, and how Catra must be able to feel it now, too.

Her gaze flickers downwards, the eye contact crumbling under the sudden tidal wave of embarrassment and arousal. But nonetheless Adora murmurs, "Okay," and plants her hand over Catra's soft stomach before inching down, down, beneath the edge of her bunched-up leotard and over the fabric of her underwear.

Ah... she's hot there, too. Adora has to swallow as she rubs her fingers down to Catra's very center, then back up, timidly meeting her eyes again. "Um, how's this?"

Catra honestly can't tell how much of Adora's instant reply is her need to be a ridiculous know-it-all, but it doesn't really matter. She's struggling to keep up the submissive front, Adora's whine pulling at her, and Catra's eyes sharpen with a satisfied glint when Adora looks away first. That's more like it.

She still lets her lips part with a shivering breath when Adora's hand moves on her sensitive stomach, each and every muscle twitching and tensing under the slow pass of her palm. If it weren't for the absolutely dreadful arch she'd wriggled herself into, Catra would do something to speed Adora up; but her hair pulls unpleasantly when she tries to relax her shoulders back down, and, well. It's not the worst position she's ever held herself in. She'll deal.

It does leave her absolutely nowhere else to go, and all she can do when Adora's hand finally slips across her underwear is roll her hips as her breath catches and her own hands still. It's the first time Adora's put a hand directly there, and Catra's fairly sure her heart stops completely when Adora's fingers smooth hesitantly over her, inadvertently teasing through the sturdy garment. It's so different, Adora's fingers a direct and localized pressure rather than the general friction of her thigh, and Catra can feel herself clench in protest as Adora's fingers curl back up and away, her hips tilting to chase them as she groans.

"Don't get shy on me now," she complains, her voice tight in frustration as she pulls her hands back up to bump her fists against Adora's naked chest. And -- ugh, she still really wants to put her mouth there. "We didn't take these off just 'cause it looks good, did we?"

"I'm not shy, I wanna be sure I'm doing this right," Adora protests, with enough conviction in her voice to erode her sheepishness. She'll ease into it soon enough, no doubt -- she's always been a quick learner -- but right now this is so new, and different, and sending jitters up from her fingertips to elbow.

And she doesn't want to disappoint Catra, when she needs her.

"Gimme a minute to just..."

With a swallow, Adora stretches her fingers out, rubbing over that same spot at Catra's center. "Here? That's where it feels good? Is it better if I do it gentle, or..."

She strokes against her, lightly at first, then firmer; her fingers press as far as they can against the barrier of underwear, which isn't very far at all, and Adora's lips tug into a frown. Catra's heat taunts her through the fabric, so close, yet still not hers to claim.

"Would--" The question rises to her throat before she can think better of it, and embarrassment catches up a moment later, dyeing her cheeks and thinning her voice. "Would inside be better...?"

"There's no wrong way, Adora." Except her focus is a little too far down, and Catra shifts to correct her; tilting her hips and exhaling a shuddering gasp as Adora's fingers stretch across her. No wrong way, for sure, but -- some places are better than others.

Catra's hands are already against Adora's chest, and it takes a bit of an awkward stretch to do it, but Catra raises them to try to loop her arms around Adora's neck; trying to tug her down. She hasn't been kissed in what feels like forever, and Adora says she's not getting shy but she's clearly Something.

"You're thinking about this way too much," Catra drawls, trying to lift herself and giving up when all she manages is the brief start of a sit-up. Not because she's incapable of it in general, but more because she's incapable when Adora's fingers are pressing in teasingly, and it's impossible to remember what she was sitting up for when all she wants is that. She does not recall dropping back down with a breathy noise, but Catra's voice is decidedly raspier when she regains at least part of that train of thought: "Just -- relax, okay? Kiss me again."

"Of course there's a wrong way, there's a wrong way to do everything. Sometimes you get mad at me just for scratching your back upwards instead of down, and this is a way more delicate area than that!" The attempt at reassurance seems to achieve the opposite effect, Adora's features tensing and her voice straining into a squawk as she speaks.

She's not shy, okay? Just wound up, a little high-strung. She can't help it. The words tumble out of her in a frantic rush. "Look, I just don't want to mess this up. And you understand this stuff way better than I do, so you have to help me! You have to tell me how to make you feel good or I'm not gonna..."

But Catra tugs her down as she prattles on, and asks her to kiss her, and-- that's all it takes, just like that, to snap Adora's mouth shut. With the stream of anxious thoughts frozen momentarily in place, Adora can only blurt out a dumb little "okay", before obediently cupping Catra's cheek and pulling her in for a kiss.

Kissing's good. Grounding. Adora likes to think she got the hang of that pretty quick. And when she's focused on Catra's mouth, her full but chapped lips, her warm breath spilling free from between them as they part... her own jitters melt away, so easily. In truth, touching Catra is simply embedded in her nature, always has been; Adora can't remember ever having to think before reaching for her hand, or wrapping her arms around her when they curl up together at night.

Touching Catra and being touched by Catra, exchanging that comfort and thrill and warmth. That's her harbor in the Fright Zone. Be it playfighting, or hugging, or kissing, or more-- Adora loves all of it, wants all of it, and she knows it's the same for Catra, too. Or she wouldn't be so wonderfully malleable underneath her on the roof, releasing soft gasps and hums into her mouth as she rubs, slow and gentle, between her legs.

When Adora thinks about that, it feels a little silly to get nervous. And when they break away for breath, her voice comes out slower and steadier, her eyes newly focused, and her request honest.

"Guide me through this, please?"

Edited 2020-08-07 11:49 (UTC)

Okay, the back thing? Is because it makes her hyper-aware of her fur, and prickles at her skin in a way that makes her extra sensitive all over. So, yeah - Catra's bitten Adora for it before. What else is she supposed to do when it happens, just shiver and melt and let Adora do whatever to her? Nuh-uh, no way.

But, to tell the truth - she hadn't realized Adora was panicking so much about this. Her chest rumbles with a purr - slow and steady, urging Adora to relax - as their lips press together, and Catra slides her bound arms down and around Adora's shoulders to hold her close, pressing their chests together. She'd expected Adora to freak out about the weirdness of this stuff, not about somehow screwing it up -- but she really should've seen it coming. Adora always has been terrified of failure. She's always got to prove she's the best at everything, and as much as Catra's enjoyed having the upper hand in all of this... it's Adora. Of course she's not going to just let her suffer with the fear of actually being bad at something, for the first time in her life.

The tip of Catra's tongue flicks across her lips when they part, and then her eyes squint open; before she huffs a quiet breath. She can hardly smell the Fright Zone's smog when Adora's this close to her, and it does stuff to her brain. Makes the world feel less sharp on the edges, makes the metal under her back feel less uninviting and cold. Makes her think less about the hitched noises in her throat when Adora's fingers stroke over her so slow and so soft, and not at all about how her arms tremble around her when she almost presses in again.

"You're doing fine." Catra wants to kiss her again, but it's not conducive to talking... so she makes due with what she can, bracing her arms around Adora and lifting herself enough to press her lips to her cheek. It'd felt nice, when Adora had done it to her before. Weird, and sweet, and soft, and totally out of place in the Horde -- but maybe that was why Catra had liked it. "Just... don't be so far away, I guess. I wanna feel you too, you know."

Because it's better, if when she breathes her nose and mouth and throat are filled with the smell of Adora and nothing else. If when she opens her eyes, Adora is the only thing she can see; if she's the the only thing that matters, the only thing that exists in all of Catra's senses. She doesn't want to see the moons, or the smoke, or the depressing fog. She doesn't want anything else in the world to be there. She just wants -- Adora.

And as if to demonstrate her point, Catra nudges her cheek against hers; trying to angle the cool edges of her mask away from Adora's skin. It ends up basically being a nuzzle at that point, which is ---- absolutely not what Catra was going for, embarrassingly so, and she makes the hasty decision to cover it up by nipping at the curve of Adora's jaw, her sharp teeth scraping against the lobe of her ear. --Whatever, she owes Adora one of those for biting hers earlier anyway.

"Okay," Adora breathes out, chest sagging with relief. Stay close to Catra? Like she needs to be asked. "I can do that."

Her giggle at the unexpectedly sweet nuzzle is cut short by the sudden prick of teeth, and Adora gasps as a shiver runs through her, but doesn't protest. She's curious, more than anything -- anywhere that Catra wants to put her mouth right now, she'll at least let her try. Rolling down her shoulders, she leans her head towards Catra's mouth, a silent cue of go on. And all the while, her fingers draw sheepish circles between Catra's thighs, at that spot she likes.

But her last question, that had gone unanswered in Catra's attempts to soothe her, still hovers persistently in the forefront of Adora's mind.

"So-- is it okay if I..." The words don't come easier the second time, and they summon her heart to her throat just the same. She swallows, awkward. "--go inside?"

Oh. Catra actually pauses for a moment, surprised when Adora's gasp sounds so close to her own twitching ear, and instead of jerking away like Catra expected... moves to give her more room.

Well then.

Adora's ears aren't as sensitive as hers, but there must still be something to them; so Catra's careful when she closes her teeth on the lobe and tugs, and again when she drags her tongue along the curved shell. She knows how loud Adora's breathing sounds near her ear, so she keeps her own quiet; exhaling just a shaky and warm puff at the repeated question. This close, she's sure Adora can feel her heart leap in her chest, excited and nervous and way too eager, and the heat that Adora's circling between her legs is thrumming an insistent yes that trembles in her thighs.

Guide me, Adora had pleaded. Catra's always been more of a doer, learning on the fly and through action; if it were her in Adora's place, she'd happily just shove her hand into her underwear and start feeling around. (And in fact, that's. Pretty much how that'd gone.) But Adora prefers to study, and plan, and strategize, which is probably why she'd gotten so worked up. Which means Catra should probably like, explain this to her, instead of expecting her to figure it out on the go.

"--You know what it's gonna be like in there, right?" She has the good grace to draw back from Adora's ear to look at her, a not unkind but still doubtful expression on her face. She's pretty certain she knows the answer already; Adora's been way too clueless about everything else to have any idea.

Adora gets why Catra reacted like that when she licked her ear, now. Catra's rough tongue, the wet pressure of her mouth as it closes over her earlobe-- it makes her skin buzz, her whole ear swarming with warmth. She can feel Catra's every breath, down to the faintest exhale, reverberating through her. Feeding the heat in her belly and curling her toes.

Adora imagines what her moans would feel like, from this up close, and her thighs squeeze together of their own accord again.

But Catra pulls away then, eyes locking onto hers -- the question she posed, after all, is the kind that necessitates eye contact -- and Adora's stomach tightens in preparation for the answer she'll give.

Only to sink, dejected, as the words leave Catra's mouth.

"Ugh, do you have to ask?" She curves her neck, forehead thudding against Catra's clavicle. "You know I never... went poking around in there." Though her lips twitch into a flustered frown, she lifts her head to peer up at Catra, determination trumping her embarrassment. "But I can learn! Like I learned all the other things. I'm great at learning. So it should be okay, right?"

It's a bad time to snigger, but Catra can't help it. She has her arms around Adora anyway, so it's not like she can take off in embarrassment.

But the tip of Catra's tail flicks with a thwap against the roof, betraying her uncertainty.

There's not really a problem. Catra's just being stupid. It's just -- she doesn't know, alright, how Adora's going to react once she actually has her hand in Catra's underwear. It's admittedly really weird down there, and she'd even worried she'd gotten herself with her claws the first time she'd gone 'poking around' and felt her fingers covered in something so slick.

"Yeah," she agrees; but it feels kind of hollow, and Catra's teeth close on her lip right after. "Just, uh. It's not gonna be -- whatever you're expecting. It's kinda..."

What's the best word for it? Catra's eyes scrunch, her head tilting as she thinks. She's gotta pick something that's accurate but also not so gross that it changes Adora's mind about doing it.

"...Sticky?"

"O-kay," Adora enunciates slowly, brow creasing. Of all the concerns she's had -- messing it up, hurting Catra by accident, disappointing her so bad she doesn't want to do this with her anymore -- it never occurred to Adora to worry about it being... sticky.

It's like Catra's afraid Adora won't like it, which is kind of sweet, actually-- oddly comforting in its own way. Enough that one corner of her mouth dares to curl upward as she asks: "Are you getting shy now?"

"What?!" Catra balks, immediately. Or -- tries to. Turns out having her arms around Adora means she also can't do anything to hide her knee-jerk embarrassment, even though she isn't shy. The heat rises up her face, darkening the skin under her fur, and there's not a single thing Catra can do about it except deny, deny, deny. Which she does, vigorously. "--No. I'm just trying to tell you what it's like! That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

Adora can't help the grin pulling at both her cheeks now, one part flustered and two parts endeared. "No, you're right, I'm sorry," she says, sweetly pressing a kiss to Catra's flushed cheek, then to her lips. "What else do I need to know?"

Don't look at her like that. Catra's lips press together stubbornly, her eyebrows pulling together in a frown. Her stomach does dumb flips whenever Adora makes that face at her, and right now is neither the time nor place for her to deal with squashing that down.

But as ever, Adora knows just how to smooth her bristling - literally and metaphorically, Catra's raised fur settling as she accepts the contrite kisses. She just -- doesn't want Adora to immediately hate it and then decide to never do it again, why is that such a hard thing for her to understand?

She huffs an annoyed breath, but wills herself to relax again; tugging Adora with her as she lays back down.

"I don't know," she grumbles, embarrassment still burning in her chest. "I just didn't want you to think I was dying, or something."

--It's legitimate, okay. Last night Adora had been convinced she was on death's door, and they hadn't even done anything.

Edited 2020-08-08 12:56 (UTC)

As much as Adora would like to rebuff that claim, looking back at her own behavior up til now, well-- Catra's got a point. It's hard to blame her.

"... Okay, yeah, I get it," she relents with a sigh. "I know I've been a little freakout-prone about all this." Leaning into Catra, she buries her face against the curve of slim shoulder, nuzzles lightly into her neck. The words come easier when she immerses herself in this sensation: the ticklish softness of Catra's fur, the faint bitter-salt of her scent. Every new act of closeness, every chance at a touch yet-unexplored, has felt good. Right, in a way that floods Adora's chest with warmth and sends it swirling all throughout her.

And as always, when she tries to express this aloud, the words fall short.

"But even if it makes me nervous sometimes, I... really, really like touching you, and getting to know new parts of you. So I want to try. And I promise not to be weird about it, if you let me." She pauses there, then stammers out a laugh, glancing up at Catra with an apologetic smile. She knows her own track record. "Or-- as little weird as possible, at least."

Her thumb stretches upwards, tracing right along the hem of Catra's underwear-- just bold enough to dip underneath for a teasing half-second.

"So-- please?"

Adora's nuzzle tickles, and Catra squirms under it; raising her shoulder automatically to try to knock her off. It's a relief, for Adora to actually be admitting to her skittishness instead of just pretending like she's fine, but -- does she have to do it right against her neck?

As if Catra wasn't feeling warm enough already.

She tells herself it's because of that, anyway, and not because of the assurance that Adora actually likes touching her like this. And that the relaxing of her body is more to do with letting Adora's hand move where it wants, than the easing of any worry she'd had about scaring her off. She's promised not to be weird about it, so -- it'll be okay. They'll figure it out.

There's definitely a blush on her face when she looks away, unable to handle seeing Adora's smile without feeling a lurching in her chest. And that flush only grows deeper when Adora's thumb glances under the line of her underwear, Catra's skin burning with need where she touches.

There's no way she's saying no.

But as she goes to lift her arms away from Adora's shoulders, she pauses; the tips of her fur just barely brushing against the bare skin of her back.

"Okay, but -- I get to do you after." Catra's wanted to do this for way longer than Adora has, after all. If she gets to put her hands in her underwear, then Catra does, too.

Edited 2020-08-08 19:24 (UTC)

Adora's eyes go wide, having expected a far more daunting caveat, and her smile slants and broadens with the slowly-settling realization that she's just been given permission. Oh man. "Okay. Yup. Yeah, that sounds fair to me."

Her eyes flick downwards, following the line of her own arm before it's obscured by the convergence of their bodies. She can feel the twitch of Catra's hips-- lifted, waiting, and Adora's thumb fidgets beneath the hem of underwear as she takes a deep breath. "So I'm just gonna... yeah. Here goes."

Narrating it doesn't actually do anything to ease the embarrassment, she doesn't think (her face is burning and her elbow shakes just the same), but Adora can't quite keep her mouth shut, her jitters swarming towards every possible outlet.

So she's babbling as she slides her hand up from between Catra's legs, slipping beneath her underwear to touch her directly, skin to skin. Even just pressing over her, shaping her palm over the mound, is enough to make her swallow.

"--Woah. You weren't kidding." It's. Yeah. It's sticky, the fur there warm and tacky and damp. Adora strokes down with two cautious fingers, taking the sensation in. "Is it always like that? 'cuz I mean, that'd probably be uncomfortable-- or not, I don't, I don't know."

Edited 2020-08-09 17:46 (UTC)

Adora's narration might not be helping her, but it helps Catra deal with the anticipation wriggling in her stomach as she lifts her arms off of Adora, no longer restricting her movement. She breathes a deep, careful breath - and the only place, really, to put her hands is just above her head; her elbows bent around her face, brushing the sides of her mask as she just -- watches, for a moment.

Adora looks excited, which is reassuring and warming all at once; and Catra's lips twitch in response to her grin, her tail brushing the roof in a couple of playful sweeps as she rambles. Catra's purr is deep with affection when it comes, continuing even through the breathless snicker that catches in her throat when Adora's hand slips beneath her underwear.

It's immediately so much more than Catra was ready for it to be, Adora's hand almost tickling as she slides it over the seldomly touched fur. But it's not ticklish. It's similar, in how sensitive it makes her feel; in how it draws all of her attention to every minor motion against her, bringing even the twitch of Adora's fingers into hyper-focus. But it's different. Instead of dancing across her nerves, it burns deep in them; feeding right through to the wet heat pulsing in Catra's core, right below Adora's cupped hand.

And then her fingers move, slipping over that centered demand and grazing over the compressed nerves above it, and Catra's elbows clamp together over her face as she sucks in a gasp of air. It's -- it's nothing like when she touches herself, and it's nothing like rutting against Adora's thigh. It's so much more deliberate, more focused, and it's-- it's Adora.

Adora, who's still talking.

"Uh-huh," Catra agrees, the noise sticking in the tightness of her throat and scraping out high. All of her focus is down on Adora's hand, and it's hard to claw back enough of it to parse her question. She gives it a try anyway. "Whenever you're doing this stuff, it just -- happens. Means you're doing it right."

...She's pretty sure, anyway. It's not like she's compared notes with anyone on it.

Edited 2020-08-09 18:44 (UTC)

"Oh," Adora sighs out, shallow from her throat. Her chest pounds and her eyes sparkle with the praise, offhanded as it may have been. "I am?"

She's doing it right. That's all she needed to hear. Emboldened by this, Adora stretches her arm out further, parting Catra's entrance between her first and third finger so the middle one can press inside.

Inside. Just like that, she's inside Catra. It doesn't feel like any other part of her, like anything Adora's felt before-- slick and hot and deep, and hungry. She can feel Catra tighten around her finger, can feel her throb in a mirroring rhythm to the one between Adora's own legs.

Her attention is so singlemindedly focused on taking it all in that for a couple moments, Adora forgets to breathe. Her delayed exhale comes out shaky and strained as she strokes her finger inside Catra, curling it experimentally upward. Her eyes are trained on Catra's face all the while, watching anxiously for her reaction.

But she has to ask out loud, too.

"How-- how's this?"

She knows she's said it, but is Adora seriously that worried about doing this wrong?

The brightness of her eyes is obvious when Catra's crack open to peer at her through the space between her arms, looking for all the world like she's just been given a glowing report - and that familiar soft, warm feeling melts in Catra's stomach in response.

Adora really is such an idiot.

Catra can't look away from her, though her eyelids flutter and a noise rises in her throat as Adora's fingers press around her - and then in, Catra's lips parting to let the whimper through.

It feels so good, the pressure of Adora's fingers pushing on her in a way that Catra could never do. (Or -- can't do while she's in the Horde, where her claws are too valuable a weapon to dull down or trim.) But even if she could, she's sure it wouldn't feel this great; she's sure she wouldn't feel every muscle in her core tensing under the movement of her own finger, or her body flexing down instinctively to try to take it in further, to bring it deeper into herself.

"'s--" her throat is too thick to speak, and Catra has to swallow to clear it. Even then her voice comes out deep and rough and haggard on the edges, and her hips lift incrementally up only to shift back down in the same motion; leaving her breathless as it rubs Adora's finger inside her. "--good. It's good. You--"

it's not like Catra to dish out compliments. Everyone else is always falling over themselves to praise Adora, so Catra never really needs to. Her support's always in the form of a congratulatory elbow, or an excited shove, or the proposal of a risky climb to burn their giddy energy up.

"--You're doing good." But if it's really what Adora needs to hear, if it'll keep her looking like that - like Catra's giving her everything she wants in the world - then she'll do it. Without even a second thought. Anything to keep those delighted, eager eyes on her; anything to keep that beaming, awkward grin.

And anything to keep her moving, too, because Catra's body hasn't stopped those tiny, instinctive rocks into her; her muscles tensing and flexing under and around Adora's fingers, urging her to keep going.

Catra's praise feeds her -- so precious and raw, filtered out in between labored breaths and moans, and Adora's ears ring with it, her chest swells with it.

She almost thinks to say something back, but her head is empty and her jaw is tight and-- responding would risk making Catra stop, besides. It might snap her out of this trance.

So Adora's throat bobs with a silent swallow, and she doesn't utter a word, only stares down at Catra with wide-eyed exhiliration as she repeats that curling motion once, twice. Then, seeking out the spot Catra had responded so strongly to over her clothes, she traces her finger up higher, stopping when she comes upon a small, delicate nub right above her entrance.

Breathing harshly through her nose, Adora runs an experimental finger over that spot; presses down on it, just softly; draws a circle around it, intently studying Catra's reaction to each kind of touch.

The words of praise, lackluster and lame as they feel, seem to be the right thing to say. Adora's eyes brighten impossibly, and Catra's trapped in them for a moment, her lips curving in an answering smile (--they're terrible, the two of them, always feeding off each-other's excitement like this).

The moment is broken when Adora's finger flexes, jolting her with a sharp inhale that - honestly? Is definitely a gasp. It's too-loud and tinged all over with need, her jaw trembling as her hips cant low and then high; sliding herself incrementally along Adora's finger. She's right where that pulsing demand is, growing and satisfying it both at once, and Catra's tenuous grip on the conversation slips away again under the motions of Adora's exploration. Catra doesn't know the specifics, just knows that whatever Adora's doing, it's good -- until Adora finds that bundle of nerves, and Catra has a split second to think that she's never doing this alone again before she can no longer think of anything much at all.

There's too much to focus on anything else. Her skin feels tight on her body, her arms shaking over her face as Adora's finger runs over her, and Catra's body jerks again at the unexpected intense shock of sparks as she hones in on her target. Her hips lift with the press of Adora's finger, her mouth drying as she pants for shallow breaths; then Adora's finger circles around her, stimulating from all angles, and Catra's lips part wide as a full-volumed moan keens from her; so deep she can feel it heating in her chest as she bucks into the motions of Adora's hand, her muscles tensing and fluttering around her fingers.

"Adora--" Catra's legs try to part, try to give her access to all of her, but they can only tremble when the motion pulls the fabric of her underwear taut before falling helplessly back into place. It really is all up to Adora; there's nothing Catra can do to hurry her along, nothing she can do to force any change in her pace.

She can only plead, the words "--don't stop" straining from her lips as she rocks into her. She's giving in for real this time, beyond caring that the need in her voice is genuine; beyond caring about the lift of her chin exposing the length of her throat, or the arch of her back pressing her chest up in desperation to be touched. She just -- needs Adora, and there's no pretending about it at this point.

Edited 2020-08-29 17:03 (UTC)

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