She couldn't make sense of what he was doing to her, her own mind too clouded with lust and her body too sensitive to make firm distinguishments. When his hand moved hers from his hair to his shoulder she rolled her hips, and help both shoulder and hand.
Verity was less aware of the sounds coming from her lips than she'd prefer to be. She knew that she was making them and kept a conscious effort to keep them low, quiet, but she wasn't sure which she was making in what order.
As he moved down she found herself holding her breath until he was thrust his tongue into her and she groaned appreciatively. Merlin he was still going so slow she thought she'd lose her mind. Having moved further down she felt like she could keep herself intact, but she was there, she was on the edge and she needed the release. She didn't know how long she could stay on this edge without screaming in general.
"P-please Charles," she breathed, begging him to let her fall over the edge.