She loves it when he does something that's gonna leave a mark. Saffron moans again, one that starts with the fingers and gets stretched out at the bite, the contrast in the softness of his lips against her thighs. Church is stimulating her in so many ways, it's almost an overwhelming combination, but damn is it good. The kind of good she doesn't ever want to let go of.

"So good," is all she can manage, the idea of coherent sentences at this point seeming a little absurd.