[ she's wound up, tensed like a coiled spring, and moans breathily, trying to hold onto anything that she can get purchase on. the sheets, Sekhmet's hair, anything. she really has to—she has to find some way to calm down, but the sharp prick of teeth at her thigh is the kind of thing that could easily send her over the edge, if she's not careful.
she grits her teeth, her breaths coming in shuddering gasps, barely able to form words. ]
no subject
she grits her teeth, her breaths coming in shuddering gasps, barely able to form words. ]