Daisy never has done subtlety well, anyway. The volume, if anything, makes that smirk on her face even smugger, more pleased with herself, than it already was.
She sets her pace, knows well how to use enough of her strength to wreck someone without actually breaking them (knows well how much further she could always push it with some compared to others, remembers well the other monsters that walked away from Hunts alive and satisfied and aching). Knows the feeling of Erin's skin beneath her hands, knows the pounding beat of Erin's heart, knows the scent of her.
(There's only been one other woman she's known like this, only one other woman that she wanted beneath her as more than a conquest, only one other that the care they needed wasn't a fucking chore to tick off so she could get off.
Daisy's fingers twitch, and it's damn fucking lucky that she's aware enough of her own actions to keep her hands far, far from Erin's hair when for a fleeting moment, all she can imagine is the feeling of Basira's between her fingers.)
When one hand slips away from its hold on Erin's hip, she doesn't shake away Erin's grip, she... adjusts it. Locks their fingers together as she leans over Erin and guides the arm away so she's holding it loosely against the ground above her head. Teeth catch at Erin's lip, then her jaw, then her throat. And never once does Daisy's rhythm falter.
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Daisy never has done subtlety well, anyway. The volume, if anything, makes that smirk on her face even smugger, more pleased with herself, than it already was.
She sets her pace, knows well how to use enough of her strength to wreck someone without actually breaking them (knows well how much further she could always push it with some compared to others, remembers well the other monsters that walked away from Hunts alive and satisfied and aching). Knows the feeling of Erin's skin beneath her hands, knows the pounding beat of Erin's heart, knows the scent of her.
(There's only been one other woman she's known like this, only one other woman that she wanted beneath her as more than a conquest, only one other that the care they needed wasn't a fucking chore to tick off so she could get off.
Daisy's fingers twitch, and it's damn fucking lucky that she's aware enough of her own actions to keep her hands far, far from Erin's hair when for a fleeting moment, all she can imagine is the feeling of Basira's between her fingers.)
When one hand slips away from its hold on Erin's hip, she doesn't shake away Erin's grip, she... adjusts it. Locks their fingers together as she leans over Erin and guides the arm away so she's holding it loosely against the ground above her head. Teeth catch at Erin's lip, then her jaw, then her throat. And never once does Daisy's rhythm falter.