"Good," she says, encouraging him, rocking her own hips a little with the knowledge that she could come again if he would be willing to fuck her. But still, she isn't going to think on that. She's just going to do this, focus on him, on making him come in her hand and on her chest.

Her pace quickens a little, focusing on the head of his cock, and her gaze flicks between his face and his dick. Eventually she has to focus on his face, on the way he looks, because this is what she needs to see. The way he looks when he comes. The knowledge she did that to him.