Rani consumes her thoughts so often, and yet it feels somehow surreal that she might occupy her thoughts, as well. So cautious and so contained since past heartbreak, and not especially experienced in the ways of the heart beyond that attachment. It was not the way of things, was it? Purity and reputation could be so easily jeopardised. And this closeness, this moment was so important— she had been afraid to rush into it, to treat it as anything less than sacred.

A shudder rolls up her back, and she kisses her throat desperately, her jaw and her cheek. Would claim her lips, but those cries are too intoxicating and so instead she rests her forehead against Rani's cheek or her temple, wherever she might reasonably be able to do so with her head falling back. Her moves quicker, and then her fingers flex, pressing upward to that point which seemed to draw stronger reactions from her Rani, curving and pressing to try and bring her release and satisfaction.

Her other hand drags up Rani's back, so her fingers can tangle into her hair, and she tilts her head to murmur in her ear. "And I'm yours. All of me is yours." My heart, she would say, but her voice is too rough and she is trying to move quicker, muscles tensing and coiling.