Isabelle was still trying. Because she was stubborn, just like he had been. She could feel some trembling in her thighs, all tense, but she was still holding on and trying to form words. Even if some of them were more like moans.

"Oh, oh, keep doing that, keep doing that, I love that." And her statements were becoming far more like mantras now. "I love it. I love y–- I, I love your mouth. Baby, I love it. Suck on my clit, baby."

She was squeezing his hands pretty hard now.