[ Shrike hums against him as she drags her lips back up his shaft to run her tongue over the head again. It’s not really part of the role she’s been playing a little—the sort of thing she’d expect to do if the other person in the equation was taking charge—but here it still feels like a sort of assertion, giving him this pleasure.

She leans into his hand against her hair, closing her eyes; her hands come to grip at his muscled thighs and their warmth. Part of her is aching already, and she knows she’s already slick, a persistent heat between her own thighs, but—she’s patient, and every gasp of his as she takes him is gratifying enough for now. ]