[Sombra chuckles a little at what she perceives as his offense, lying down when he presses her down. Still, her gaze flits over Oda while he stares. There's something gentle - intimate even - about his silence and the way his touch traces her face. She watches him through heavy-lidded eyes, and when his touch grazes her throat she holds her breath.
When he grips, she shivers - hard enough that her lashes flutter. She swallows, throat having dried at the sound of his lovely, low voice.]
Yes. [Her voice is breathless with lust. She nods, her previous flush spreading across her cheeks.] Please?
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When he grips, she shivers - hard enough that her lashes flutter. She swallows, throat having dried at the sound of his lovely, low voice.]
Yes. [Her voice is breathless with lust. She nods, her previous flush spreading across her cheeks.] Please?