She lets out a muffled groan of surprise as he thrusts his fingers in and out of her mouth, the motion slight and only a little rough but undeniably there. Rosie had tasted herself before, in that filthy kiss she'd shared with Sabrina, but that had been nothing more than a hint; this, now, is a dizzying, shameful flood.

Nick withdraws his fingers, and she pants for a minute, getting her breath back enough to answer him appropriately. "I'm sure you both h-have your own ideas, Nick," she says, because even as overwhelmed as she is she knows that's true. "Better ones, maybe, than I do. But...but I think you'll want to teach me how to do as I'm told without objecting, or how to put myself on display for you, or show off for you."

It's a little too vague, a little lacking; Rosie makes herself keep talking, trying to unearth a few more substantial examples to show how eager she is to comply with what he's asked. "Or make you feel good, make you come by...by using my mouth on you. Letting Sabrina...letting her..." Rosie grits her teeth a moment, makes herself say it. "Letting her sit on my face."