The aching in him forces his shoulders to press up to prevent his hips from doing so, his core coiled tightly. He can't seem to will it to relax. Sweeney's elbows start to slide down, leaving his hands next to his shoulders. His neck strains up as he lifts his chin with a suggestion of something between an invitation and a challenge.

"Yeah?" Fuck, he wants to taste her.

"I do anythin' in particular?"

'Cause odds are good, he's happy to oblige her.