"Oh!" Harley gasped, with enough surprise that even she thought it might send the wrong message, and she had to stop that thought in its tracks as quickly as possible. "No, not a complaint," she babbled, "you just stay... right there, doin' whatcha doin'."

'Cause the heat was working damn near as well as his thumb and finger were.

And then of course there was the grinding that she was just... really giving her all, now, to some great effect. She seemed to find a particularly good motion, angle, something, just then, judging by the whimpery moan that escaped her.