[Like so many things Wriothesley has done, the fingers tangling into his hair, tugging slightly, feel far better than he could have ever imagined. He leans into the touch but freezes at the pet name. Sweetheart... That is... most unexpected. The pause is likely noticeable but momentary, though even as he begins to bob his head again slowly that pet name keeps playing in his mind.
He steadily increases his pace, wanting to draw out Wriothesley's moans, to feel the way his muscles tense under his fingers as he struggles to hold back and maintain control. There's something intoxicating about watching Wriothesley slowly succumb to pleasure, to get to see him raw and vulnerable.]
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He steadily increases his pace, wanting to draw out Wriothesley's moans, to feel the way his muscles tense under his fingers as he struggles to hold back and maintain control. There's something intoxicating about watching Wriothesley slowly succumb to pleasure, to get to see him raw and vulnerable.]