She'd known 44 was strong ever since she killed her, but there's feeling someone's strength aimed at destroying you and then feeling the same wrapped around you, lifting her with seeming ease. And exposed as she is, Fever welcomes the kisses, the touches, even as her hands fidget some in the cuffs from the reflex to want to touch her, draw her nearer. She hopes the bruises linger for a little while, her breathing and heart rate starting to pick up, a little sound when 44 hits an area that's particularly sensitive.

"How many times will you stab me if I make a crack about worshiping right now?"

It's a little breathless, no bite there as Fever tries to make certain she can stay still enough to not fall backwards.