Her tongue is the most glorious velvet, and Sweeney isn't sure what he's supposed to be doing with himself. He certainly doesn't expect her to manage the whole thing, but feeling the bump when space becomes limited makes him twitch, and his head falls back again as he struggles to stay steady.

Try as he might, he can't help himself, and his grip in her hair tightens. He doesn't push or yank; he's just looking for some purchase, as if he's unsure that she's actually here with her lips around him, or if it's just a fevered dream brought on by too much mushroom tea.