Pearl lets Rose move her, pose her, fold her arms perfectly behind her back. If she was in less of a hazy state of bliss, she'd be pleased by the symmetry of the position. It's like dance, in a way, or something like that; well, the other thing this has in common with dance is the way it allows her to just be in her body. Just feel...

Tied, she paradoxically feels safe. She turns her cheek into the bedspread, half-burrowing into it with a noise of contentment.

"Feels good, Rose, feels s-so...."

The words trail off into a moan as her hips jerk again: Rose's hand, her mouth, so close and so maddeningly far. At least when she was belly down against the bed she could grind a little, press herself into the blankets with the force of her own trembling muscles... Now in this position when she moves her hips she searches desperately for pressure, sensation, something, anything, but all there is is the unbearable tease of cool air against her wet folds.

"Please keep going," she whimpers, muffled by the blankets.