No, it was in her head all right, and subsequently in his. Rigby allowed himself a small chuckle as he went back to worshipping her neck, tongue flicking out against her pulse point, the hollow of her throat, anywhere his mouth could reach. One of his hands came up to dance along her side, tracing small patterns along her ribcage. "Someone likes this," he breathed to her, allowing her one rock of his hips into hers.