The eagerness of his response only drives the heat back up inside her, and she pulls her mouth from his skin only to admire her work. "A souvenir," she murmurs, pleased with the word she'd learned maybe a couple of hours ago at the gift shop downstairs.

She sighs gustily as his hand slides between her legs, at the contact to the sensitive quiver of her clit, as he begins to finger her. "The most lovely fingers," she breathes, eyes getting darker and darker. She grinds her hips down against the pressure shamelessly, pausing only as she takes her hand from his cock to wet her palm with her own slick-- then strokes again, slow and even. "Fuck," she moans, drawn out and with feeling. "Aye, I want it hard, deep and hard as you can. Make me scream 'til all those fine people downstairs know how good you're giving it to me."