Meghan didn't understand. More was the pity, she didn't care to. Whatever Elaine was saying, the actual words, were lost in the hypnotic music of her voice, were drowned in the feel of lips traveling her skin, of soft touches and the heat that was burning her from the inside. Meghan was past the point of wondering what was happening, past reason or self-doubt. All she knew was that she wanted, like she'd never wanted anything before.
"Anything," she promised again, voice cracking as she bit her lip in a futile attempt to stop the little whimpers from echoing out of her mouth. "Please, please, Elaine. I am yours, I swear it."