"Oh, fuck, that's perfect," she gasps out, grinding back and down against him. The angle of this position has him hitting a spot inside her that makes her eyes cross with pleasure. Impatient now, she resumes her movement from before.

Or tries to. The thing is, with his arm against her chest, she is left without much leeway to ride him, so the only resource she has left is rocking against him, squirming, a little whine escaping her throat. Then it turns into a whimper as he finds her nipple, pebbled stiff and sensitive, and clamps around his length.

"How are you real," she wonders to herself, voice a little breathy.