That heave and gasp brought the color back to her face. You loved when her eyes sparkled like that. It's a shine that comes at only one time: when she's afraid.
Your pushed your thumbs back into the hollow of her throat. The air in her final choke sounded more like a desperate whisper. And yet, as she writhed under your hands, you found your thoughts drifting...
... what does that type of fear taste like to her? Does it have a smell or color?
This time, she'd nearly dislodged your left hand as she flailed against you.
I'd give it another thirty seconds for her to quiet...
You'd misjudged - the quell came quicker this time. Fifteen seconds, tops. Her body was still, her skin slowly fading to that lovely shade of pale.
Without breaking your pressure, you kept one hand at her neck and reached another between her legs and smiled.
She never could lie about what she loved.
As you released her, she rolled to her side, choking and coughing any air she could get back into her lungs.
After a few minutes of forcing herself to breath, she turned to you, "How long were you going to hold me there, you fucker?!"
You smiled and whispered, "As long as I wanted to."
And then as you leaned in to kiss her, she backed away for a moment and held your gaze, unflinching.
"You wanted to know the color... the color when i'm there..."
And without ever saying a word, she had walked your mind tonight:
"It looks like garnet."