"Not always," she breathes out distractedly, against his lips. Her eyes flutter open as she feels his body closer to hers, feels the heat of it and then the warm brush of his bare skin against her own. Her smile is distracted, his words having brought her out of her reverie for a moment.

And as if she could read his thoughts, "Sometimes I have to stop watching, to go to my rooms and do this." She draws in a sharp breath when she feels a spike of pleasure as she finally hits the right combination of touches, her body involuntarily arching upward in response. Her free hand moves to his arm, fingers curling around tightly, trying desperately not to move too much but riding towards that restless feeling you get when you're about to come, the one that begs you to stop and keep going at the same time.

"Touch me. Please."