The gentle sensation from Maketh's hum through their kiss makes the skin on Rey's neck tingle and her heart skip. She leans forward, stroking the other woman's cheek with a coarse and calloused hand, sliding her touch through hair and scalp. Her blond threads are so pretty when they're down. Soft. Nice. This is good.

Guided through instincts, she's following what Maketh's movements and vocal indicators tell her. So far, Rey has yet to find herself in doubting.