"Oh sweet Elua," Hyacinthe said all at once in a long, fast exhale. His hips wanted to move, wanted him to grab her face and hold it steady while he rocked into her mouth. Instead he whined and held tightly to the side of the chair, hard enough for his knuckles to go white, that he did not do the same in her hair.

Her mouth was a wet tease and her hand barely enough. He groaned, closing his eyes.