Much made another sound of wanting, and he curled his finger between Ariadne's legs in a way that made her gasp and grab onto his shoulder. "God, I bet they're good," he said, sucking Dionysus' thumb between his lips, his tongue pressing against the pad of it like Dionysus' cock was in his mouth again.
"Oh- they are," Ariadne promised breathily, releasing Much's hair so she could reach down and shove her pants further down her hips, wriggling out of them which had the very pleasing side effect of making her writhe more against Much's hand and oh, gods she loved this. Loved losing herself in people, in pleasure, loved the edge of unpredictability Dionysus always bought to things. Loved the show he could make of it, loved being the show. Loved everything about him. She turned her head, though it remained thrown back against his shoulder, and bit him, bit him and kissed his neck as he'd done, like he was the tastiest of fruits.