God, between that statement and the way he looked, Annie wasn't sure how much longer she was going to be able to hold on, herself. (Because of course, when Annie tuned into her imagination and her own hand like this normally, her thoughts usually turned to Diego, and his mouth, and his hands, and him inside her, and him looking exactly as desperate and close as he did on her screen right now, and -- just, like, Jesus Christ.)

"I want to see," she managed, the camera shifting a little because she couldn't help the unconscious twitch of her leg as she swirled her fingers a little more insistently, her breathing coming out in harsh pants. "Come for me."

And then she would just melt into her bed here, never to be heard from again, but it would be super worth it.