Lyra was finding she really didn't mind the fumble of Avery struggling with her clothes, because desire was hotter than skill, any day. It was nothing like with Apollo, whose smoothness had impressed her at the time, before she found out he'd had like, a million years to practice; after she knew that, everything felt sullied and cheap. Avery was just a boy who wanted her so much he didn't want to stop kissing her to figure out which way to pull the back of her bra to unhook it. And she liked his impatience and she was liking how the feeling of his fingers between her legs while the rest of her legs were still clothed was kinda becoming a signature move of his. Like he couldn't resist touching her. As much as she wanted to be naked, that feeling was still an extra dose of hotness.
She couldn't resist grinding herself against his fingers, either, pushing her body up a little on her knees to give him more room. Lyra braced her weight on her hand by his head, her other hand stroking over his chest as she dropped her eyes closed, focusing for a moment on the feeling of his fingers exploring her, a low whine escaping out of the depths of her throat as they pressed against her. Was his roommate home? She hadn't thought to ask, and didn't want to, now. No right now all that mattered was what was building fast between the two of them.