Octavia did that thing where she didn't quite laugh, but got dangerously close to it.

"Well, you'll be on my lap, doing all the work," she drawled, idly running her fingertips down his shoulder, "but the goal will be the same." So he could probably guess what that was, but since he'd asked for more detail... "Making me come. First."

Tiny shrug.

"Once you've accomplished that, I might let you come all over my stomach."