The attentions keep winding her up, higher and higher without any hope of release, of that final moment of completion. It isn't even conscious anymore how she opens wide for them, giving them any access they want, if only it would take off some of that blinding need. Every touch sends sparks burning through her, both pleasure and pain so intertwined she couldn't tell which was which, or even if it mattered. What mattered most was being claimed, being used, being filled.