Una gasped a little and her head tilted back. It was getting hard to keep her hands in line, and she really wanted to; didn't want to push things along too fast, didn't want Kara—Starbuck—Kara, all right, in her own head at least—to panic; wanted to leave her the freedom to stop. Or not.

She traced her way along Starbuck's arms, back up again, across the collarbones. "You're beautiful, you know," she murmured.