Lucy did what she was told, the high kicking in as soon as the blood touched her tongue and intensifying as she shared it with Ben, and it only seemed to get more powerful as more time passed. An hour later (though honestly, she couldn't tell if it had been an hour, a minute, or an eternity), she was still feeling it. She could feel everything. Every molecule of air that entered her lungs and exited it, every thread in the sheets that rubbed up against her skin, Ben's burning hot presence next to her... She could feel it, she could taste it, she could smell it. Every single thing. If it hadn't felt so good, it would've been overwhelming. Instead, it was... Well, there was no other word for it. It was orgasmic.
She was lying on her back on the bed, her hair forming a wild red halo around her head, on top of the covers and — oh! Completely naked. When had she taken her clothes off? She couldn't remember, and it didn't seem to matter. Clothes only would've gotten in the way. She liked the feeling of the cool air on her warm skin, like she was hot and cold all at once. She'd never felt anything like this before.
Half a second later, she realized she'd said most (if not all) of that aloud, and she laughed and rolled on to her stomach, resting on her elbows and bending her knees so that her daintily pointed feet were skyward. Her hair fell into her face, but she didn't move it away — trying to see Ben through the curtain it formed was too entertaining. "Hiya, honey," she purred, biting her lip and fighting off giggles. "You still there?"