Of course it's working, monsieur; do you not—

[ Once again, Navia's sentence is torn in two, replaced by a sharp moan, her own device trembling in her hand and nearly falling as her body arches again, a borderline accusatory glance leveled at the screen. ]

You are a cruel man, Your Grace. [ She pauses, eyeing him through the screen, considering the shake of his own camera— but if he is, he is far more subtle than she, canting her hips off the bed with whined moans shivering out between each labored gasp for breath. ] You know very well what you are doing to me.