Ariadne, for her part, watched in avid fascination - no wonder Eames was so easily able to get under Arthur's skin, annoy him to no end - he probably resented, on some level, the knowledge that Eames possessed.

She found herself hoping Arthur wouldn't resent her the same way.

But now was not the time to think about such things - she was here to observe, learn, explore. Maybe in a slightly different way than what she'd been doing in dreams, but still.

Same basic principal.

It was even easier, this time, to slide back down to her knees in front of Arthur, taking him in her mouth again, letting one hand explore, teasing his balls while the other curled into his hip.]