Ch15 · Double-Ravaging

Watch a woman who's all the way into this, near the end. Her eyes are shut. She's not looking at him, not checking herself — her whole attention has dropped down inside, onto the exact force she's driving. She's gotten wetter, on her own, the body smoothing its own road. The sounds coming out of her aren't for show; she couldn't stop them if she tried. Her hips are pushing the pace faster, and faster, the rhythm tightening toward something. Her breath has gone rough. If she's talking, it's gotten blunt, dirty, and it's hers — not answers to him, not what she thinks he wants to hear, but words coming up out of her own want. Everything about her — breath, face, hips, voice — has narrowed to one thing: she is in it.