[She follows after Kate--not lost, or blind, but eager for this, determined to get more. It's her eagerness that keeps her close to Kate, slick bare skin to slick bare skin. The promise of the knife, and the promise of more, both are good, enough that her grin tugs at the corners of her mouth again.

One hand she braces against the wall--the other at Kate, gripping at her shoulder to keep herself upright. The looseness of her knees, the tauntness of her face--and that taut curve toward Kate, her hips pushed forward, riding against the pressure of her fingers--and she laughs, too, breathless and a little angry.]

More, I want more-- [More, and now, a demand that comes from deep in her, not in her words but in her tone--] And I want you, I want you for hours. Tied up, and untied--dressed, and undressed--so hard it hurts, and then I want you to do the same to-- to me--

[The catch in her voice belies her; the little whine that her tone takes, as she pushes hard against Kate's hand.]