There was no earthly way he could have been been prepared for her kiss on his hips. Her lips and tongue grazing his cool skin in such an impossibly fervid way made him forget any reason he had for hesitating. His groans were increasingly breathy and he was quickly losing control of his hips and all of his thoughts. All that was left was his want and the feeling of being present in his own skin.
He ached when her warm lips left his skin, taunting him through his clothing. When she finally released him from his clothing, Damien smiled into the couch cushion. His body made no attempt to hide the impatience of his writhing, his full-fledged desire. But it was her mouth on him that gave him the stillness he needed to enjoy. As she ran her lips and tongue up and down his length, Damien's hips slowed in their eagerness to match her focus, her hands feverishly warm. The flat of her tongue running over ever ridge and vein of him, that tongue darting against the underside of him. Damien ran his fingers through her hair as he groaned his pleasure.
The moment Rachel took him in, he gasped her name and gave into the sensation of her. It was something he had only imagined, wondered at, and was nothing like the reality of it. Soft lips gripped at his girth as she slid him further in (she had surprised him with the depths she could withstand), and hugged every curve of him. Tighter than being between her thighs, more pressure as she engulfed him, sucked on him deliberately. His jaw lay slack with the echo of his pleasure. A coil of tension was pulsing in his thighs, humming in his loins, but the attention she paid to his details had too much of his focus. Swept away with the intensity of the event, Damien placed eager grips into the roots of her hair. With unchecked yearning, he moaned her name.
He began to build, his erection growing stronger, harder, tension filling his groin. She teased him deliciously and he was surprised by how fast he was approaching his own pinnacle - mildly embarrassed by it, actually. Thoughts returned to him rapidly as he ascended closer and closer to coming, unacceptable thoughts of filling her mouth with his seed, thoughts of enjoying those thoughts. Sinful, selfish thoughts. He battled with himself for the briefest of moments, buying himself enough time to grapple onto Rachel's hands on his hip bones that pulled his body farther into her mouth, and give her the most hesitant of pushing pressure until she stopped. "Rache," he moaned concerningly, the pressure in his lower abdomen coiled like a spring, his voice thick with a forgotten accent usually well hidden. Hopefully, she would stop in time before he made too much of a fool of himself.