Her toy. Her favourite. The words stroke her ears as Rose strokes her wetness in a shivering moment that seems to stretch for eons. But when Rose pulls away a second later Pearl knows it wasn't nearly long enough. She thrusts back against thin air, seeking the absent touch with a groan of frustration.

But Rose is asking her to wait. That means Rose is coming back, Rose isn't done yet. Mind addled with desire, Pearl grasps at that idea like she's drowning. Rose is going to tie her up, and touch her, and it'll be so much better. The yes is on the tip of her tongue, willingly professed obedience, but. But there's something in Rose's voice. Almost a challenge -- and the heat of her palm against Pearl's skin --

Oh.

"I'll - I'll try," Pearl stammers, the lie catching in her throat, even sanctioned as it is.