the sound of a baby show on the television in the muted distance barely registered as dylan 's hand traveled up over the curve of her belly , the rounded slope of one breast , his finger and thumb teasing her nipple in time to the rhythmic strokes of his pointed tongue , the rapid flicker bringing her to her own hum , and she tipped over the edge into a writhing orgasm , riding his face , the man so caught up in the pointed focus on making her lose it that his intensity became her and drove her climax further and deeper .