All those needy little sounds fuel up Harrow's confidence-o-meter, making her feel powerful and a little bit drunk. She hums out a sigh of contentment, pleased with the slow stroking of Gideon's hands. She arches her spine like a spoiled cat, sliding her own hands down to tuck just her fingertips up into Gideon's shirt. Just to feel the warm, very alive skin. To remind herself this is real.

She breaks from the never-ending stream of kissing a little deprived of air. She huffs what might be a laugh in between her heavier breathing. "You're... going to collapse any moment. Come on." She releases her knee-grip and gently pushes at Gideon so she has room to stand. "I want to lie down." For at least a week, preferably a whole month.