[ He's trying so, so hard not buck up into her mouth. But honestly, how can he not? The way her eyes gleam in the lamplight, the way her hair brushes his thighs, the wet channel of her mouth -- It's too fucking much, forces him to let one hand go from her hair to scrabble for a grip on the bedding while his other cradles her skull. His hips rock very slightly before he forces them to press back against the mattress, the long muscles of his thighs ticcing. A rush of heat washes over him as she works her way deeper, but he stifles a noise and keeps perfectly still. He's barely breathing. ]
action;
[ Come on. Just a little more. ]