[She stays in place obediently, making no move to pull away or relinquish her duty until she's given rein to do so, tongue pathing in patient, languid strokes as she waits. Eventually, she puts some weight back on her heels, looking up with her face messy and her expression plaintive. Her hands, supportive and warm as they are, never quite stop moving, nothing but eager appreciation for the fingers in hers or the slim against her hand.]
More? Was that good? [There's a wildness in her offer that transcends even the mating fervor from the spiked food. It's glistening, fixated - on the cusp of not being a human level of focus at all. Her blown-out eyes are starving. It's obvious that she could continue unabated for quite a while. The force driving her is unnatural, but some of it seems to come from within. Her mind hasn't moved to reciprocation - certainly not yet - selfless in that same high-spun and manic way.]
no subject
More? Was that good? [There's a wildness in her offer that transcends even the mating fervor from the spiked food. It's glistening, fixated - on the cusp of not being a human level of focus at all. Her blown-out eyes are starving. It's obvious that she could continue unabated for quite a while. The force driving her is unnatural, but some of it seems to come from within. Her mind hasn't moved to reciprocation - certainly not yet - selfless in that same high-spun and manic way.]