"Cold outside," he said quietly against her skin, watching her come undone. "But not here."
Yukihime couldn't answer. She just arched up into him and moaned.
He felt her getting close before she knew it herself.
Her thighs had stopped trembling and started shaking — different thing entirely, a deeper register, her whole body caught in something it didn't have the experience to recognize or brace for. The wet sounds of his fingers working her had grown obscene in the quiet of the room, slick and rhythmic, her pussy so soaked now that every slow stroke of his hand drew out a soft lewd noise that made her bury her face into her own raised arm like she could hide from it.
She couldn't hide from any of it.
