Every sound J makes, every pant and moan, cuts right through him, spurs S on all the more. It isn't as if he'd expected not to have an effect like this. Some things just feel good, no matter what, and while he hasn't done this in a long while, it isn't as if he's completely clueless, just figuring it out for the first time. Hearing it, though, and knowing that he's the cause of it is a different matter entirely. It's all he wants, really, to make J feel good, and like this, he can actually accomplish it, even if it's temporary, even if it's a little clumsy, even if it's something anyone else could have done. He's still the one who's here, just this side of overwhelmed but in the best, most beautiful way, taking J just as deep as he can, trying to repeat the same motion that got him to say like that.

It occurs to him briefly that he could slow down again, tease and drag it out a little longer, but even without being in a hurry, he doesn't want to keep J waiting, either. There will be other times — and that's still a stunning thought all on its own — to make it last and drive J crazy, to see just how long he can drag it out. Something to look forward to, he thinks, and realizes only fleetingly that he doesn't remember the last time he really had anything to look forward to at all before he banishes that thought in favor of keeping his focus on the here and now, J occupying all of his senses.