[It's all a bit heady in a very good way; the smell and taste of him, the feel of his skin against hers. She's sending a good deal of satisfaction and desire to but not in a concentrated sort of way, more in a bubbling over with it sort of way. The frustration from earlier has given away to satisfaction in the moment, contentment to explore this at whatever rate he's happy with. At the moment she has no other ideas that conflict with kissing him. She arches up into the kiss, the hand on his stomach shifting to pull at the button up shirt he's still wearing. There's a breathy sigh of his name between kisses as she tries to get impossibly closer to him.]
no subject