Everything he's doing with his mouth feels so good that Sansa feels her hips arching up toward his mouth and she fumbles blindly for the sheets to twist her hands in them and find the back of his head instead so she pulls lightly at his short hair. She does not know if that's a thing she should be doing but she imagines if he doesn't like it, he'll let her know, same as he's waiting on prompts from her.

"It feels so good," she says, voice barely above a whisper. "Everything is...I'm on fire, I think."

It feels as if the world has narrowed down to just his tongue and her folds and she asks him in a trembling voice -

"Did you want to use your hand?"