Catherine's breath was unsteady, a mispaced panting when it had ended, and she had reached a pike of pleasure she never dreamed of. He roled by her side in the ground, and she wished he wouldn't thatshe could be closer to him. The femme's heart hammered in her ribs, almost in a painful way.
He spoke, and a ear cocked to one side before she would turn to look at him, her eyes answering his question, glittering with bliss. She still panted, the tip of her tongue out of her open mouth. She felt slightly more sober, but yet not enough. Woah. There. That was all she could say in the moment before she could make a more rational answer. Actually, bliss'd out. She said, pausing between the words to fit them between each breath, that seemed to get slower. Her heart wasn't hitting her chest anymore, and it was a relief.
She rolled to his side, eyes shut, the smile never fading away. A dream coming true, that's for sure. She rested her forehead in his furry chest, still in need of feeling him. She still wanted to hope.
Slowly, the stupor from the alcohol strated to crawl into her mind. She felt utterly stiff and unwilling to move. The ground was soft, and it was fit for a little nap. The grayish female yawned widely, not caring of placing a hand in front of her mouth, as the formality demanded. Soon, her already shut lids seemed to have been glued together. The fatigue finally had the upper hand over her, and she fell asleep, her chest going up and down with the slow breathing. She was too tired to dream, but, somehow, she knew it would have been about him.
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