He's fighting to keep his breaths even, but it is increasingly a challenge. It's all the more so when she moves to kiss him. That's far too easy to fall into, and soon he's curled over her, his hand cradling the top of her head to keep her tucked under him.

Any words he might have attempted are lost on the air he steals between the parting of their lips. Sweeney's hunger grows along with the rest of him, and he's caught up in sucking her lips and tongue as the rocking grows more pronounced. He longs for her tightness, warm and wet and aching. Her hand is a poor substitute, but that doesn't mean his body isn't going to try its hardest with what it has to work with.