The time, of course, that they had spent abstaining from this, that has something to do with how easily and delightedly Sabrina's nerves sing with sensation at Rosie's touches-- but just as much of it has always been here. And in return, perhaps there's some revelation for Sabrina too, that it would please Rosie so much to be the one setting the tempo of the blood pounding in her veins.

Either way, she's utterly quiet, lips parted, skin flushed as she listens. Her eyes grow brighter with each word, and she sucks in a breath as Rosie finally strokes her fingers against the sodden bit of lace between her thighs. She can't help the way her hips automatically push into the touch, but the prospect of getting into bed is strong enough to keep her from just staying there, rocking against Rosie's hand.

"Uh-huh," she breathe, and manages through some infernal act to get up, taking Rosie's hands to draw her with her. Getting to the bedroom might be a little messy and clumsy, with Sabrina not ready to just let go and walk, but they do manage to end up on the bed in a tangle of limbs.