The kisses, so soft, with the faintest hint of an edge, are making Pearl's knees weak. Those, and Rose's voice, so sure and compelling that Pearl can never be certain if she's describing, or commanding. Coaxing Pearl into becoming exactly what she wants. Sweet: yes, her limbs heavy with the warm liquid honey of Rose's approval, soaking through her from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. And -- sensitive: the touch catches her by surprise, a bright electric twitch of pleasure-pain, and without thinking she puts out a hand to steady herself, her damp fingers brushing against the fabric of Rose's clothing.

"Oh..."