The pace he began within her was easy to find. Her hips lifted against it, rolling slightly as her breathing grew more labored. Short, shallow exhales were edged with soft moans. She was trying to be quiet, but it was proving slightly more difficult with the way his hand was pressing fingers into her.

"Fuck," she almost shouted, but she hissed the word outward instead. Swallowing against a nearly dry throat from all the heavy breathing, her foot pressed into the bed, flexing her calf as she tried not to bow her legs, tried not to bracket his head with her thighs.

Her hand slid from the top of his head to settle to her knee then slid downward to try and part her thighs for him more. Further, letting him have more access to her center.