"No!"  A protest when Xen pulls back.  She keeps her hands onthe other woman, the elf did not move far.  She can feel the copper woman devouring her withhungry eyes, the healer doesn't care, her own are feasting.  Aeryn doesn't shrink from the others' passion, she meets it in full.  She fumbles with one hand at the cloth about her own loins and whether caught just right, whether Xen is pulling as well she never knows.  The garment rips and comes off.  It's like the sound slips a knot in her head, the last doubts, last shred of what her former master might have thought tears with it.<br/><br/>Her legs entwine with Xen's, she lifts the thigh the elf is riding slightly to give her a better angle for both to move against, plants the foot against the cot to brace them.  She might want to say something, to gasp, to moan, but that means breaking the kiss and she will not do it.  Her white hands roam from Xen's hair to her goloriously muscled ass, back up and down again, missing no bit of skin on the barbarian's neck, back and flanks as they move.<br/><br/>The other woman taking the lead, demanding the lead in fact doesn't bother her.  Aeryn is used to that.  But this time the Healer has chosen such, and that makes every bit of difference in the world.