So much for holding still. So much, for that matter, for having anything to say, because for a moment, all Meredith can get out is a shaky gasp, hips rising without her say so. Even watching what he's doing never really prepares her for how it feels, how completely he gets to her every time. She reaches for his hand, wanting to touch him somehow without interfering with his touching her. "Sean," she sighs, eyes half-closed, and bites her lip again to keep from begging for more. Desperate though she is for it, she has no intention of rushing him.