Peter made a rather pathetic sound, body already trembling by the strength of her command fighting against the instinctual reaction he wanted so dearly to give into. His body tensed, grip turning hard on Robin's leg and the blanket beside him, legs locking to keep from squirming around. He couldn't help but stare at her, breath coming in measured gasps.

How was he supposed to not move when everything was right there for him? She had ordered it, and she was going to stop if he did but it was one set of instincts against another and his brain was going to end up running in circles. He curled his toes, shuddered, let his head flop back and tried so very hard not to start moving. "Fuck," he muttered helplessly.