She holds her position for a moment longer, half bent over his body. She blinks to clear the moisture from her eyes, wanting to see him, needing to see the expression on his face when he stops moving, stops touching her. That's not what she wanted, but as the pain eases off again she realizes maybe that is what she wanted after all.

Her breath hitches and her eyes slip shut. She's halfway to overstimulated, aching and sensitive, but she presses his hand closer regardless. Just once more. That's all she wants.

She tilts her body back, her hands on his thighs and her back arched, closes her eyes and rocks against him. She hums, teeth clamped shut to keep from crying out. She tries not to clench around him but she gets to the point where she can't help it, and she's rocking more to feel the touch of his fingers than anything. The build is so much slower than before, agonizing, but steady; until her whole focus is narrowed on the coil starting to unravel inside her.