[She's trying to think of the least sexy things possible. Sealblubber. Raw fish. Chekov's face. Anything to keep herself under control and make him break first. Problem is, she can't think. Her mind is blank of rational thought, filled with nothing but pleasure and vicious determination. She gnaws on his shoulder, claws at his back, one hand going up to pull his hair. Desperately trying to push him over before she falls again.]
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