"Oh!!" Annabelle's hands then scramble to the back of Lauren's head in surprise, and her fingers tangle as she tenses. His mouth is incredibly warm, and the slick, pliant pressure of his tongue against the cleave of her is so much better than the hold of his hand. But it embarrasses her, too, but in a way that makes her want more. She's heard of men doing this once or twice (she remembers the first time she had overheard such a thing she stared in open mouth disbelief in the direction she had eavesdropped from, clutching Lauren's arm and shaking him when she asked if that was an actual thing people did), but she always thought it to be so dirty. Not from a moral, puritan standpoint, but hygienically. The thought of it always made her laugh, because people were so funny and dirty.

But now, here she is, almost naked in a little public inn library, clutching her friend's head as she gently presses into his mouth, practically high off her own scandal. "Yes," she hisses in a whisper, brows knit tensely as she closes her eyes.