The laugh melts to a candlewaxy hum at Pearl's remark. It's a thoughtful sound. Politely hungry.

"Well." Her hold begins to loosen -- letting Pearl's face pull back into view. The space allows one of Rose's hands to drift from her narrow back to her curl of hip. "I don't mind a tiny break like this," she brushes a kiss over the tip of Pearl's nose -- already beginning to chill, "if you'd like to see a little more."

Rose presses the lean pinch of flesh over Pearl's hip: massage and message both. "What do you think, sweet thing?"