He's used to skill, desire, and maybe some lighthearted sweetness mixed in with the heady rush of arousal that accompanies sex with a relatively new partner. But this is different, this is sex with something to prove and much at stake. He's touched, even as he admits privately that he finds it disturbing on a few levels.

Not disturbing enough to lose his erection, though, especially when she draws him in, deep-throating him and caressing his testicles as she pleasures him more fully with a quicker pace. He glances down at the sheen of saliva glistening on his shaft and the occasional urgent interruption of a smear of lipstick; it's jarring and vivid and strangely striking on the pale canvas of both their skin, and even though it feels strange not to be immediately moving to reciprocate, somehow, she's desperate to atone, and even if he's still questioning whether she even needs to or if this is anything resembling an appropriate channel, he settles back, battered and smothered by sex that is blunt and straightforward in lieu of teasing. He could come like this, and might if she keeps it up much longer.