Guess this was what was still left of the queen she'd been. This vicious, relentless, deeply private part of her that had found an outlet and was digging its claws right into it.

Or pounding her dick into him, as the case may have been.

Octavia met his glance, caught that little one-third glimpse at his face and the beautiful, desperate strain written all over it. Her breath stuttered again, and --

"N-now, do it."

He'd have to be quick if he wanted to join her in going over the edge, because she could feel it revving up and maybe if she really tried, she could hold it off for the length of more than one thrust --