This distracted him. Good. Excellent. Once she had him, she let them flow, let him feel the stream of consciousness in this direction, lulling and explicit, feeding him snippets of fantasies, images she had crafted to arouse and distract. She could feel him slow down his mental assault, wanting the images to go slower so he could absorb them, but she didn’t let up. Just little flashes; his teeth at the juncture of her shoulder, the indent of his fingers against her thighs, a palm striking her backside, wrenching her backwards by her hair. Carnal. Ferocious. Vulgar. 