[The sound that leaves him at that visual is low and wanting - slips out before he can think to stop it. His cock is rock-hard and dripping, neglected too long, and it twitches hard at those words, and at the sight of Rye there on his knees, ready and willing, mouth open like an invitation]

[With a groan, his grip tightens on Rye's hair and he pushes his way past those open lips, into the wet heat of Rye's mouth. Not deep - not at first, though every instinct is screaming for him to bury himself to the hilt - but with helpless, shallow little presses of his hips, scraping together the last of his willpower to give Rye a moment to adjust]