Lorcan wet his lips in anticipation, a slight trace and the flavor of Sirius's blood still on his tongue. He watched with a slight flush to his cheeks, as blood raced through his veins to warm him, while Sirius lowered himself to his knees and taking with him his the wasitband of his boxers. Exposed he felt the cool of the air, against the heat of Sirius's breath and the brush of his bruised, reddened and full lips against the tip of his cock.
He felt a jolt of delicious sensation. It was electric, and made his leg quake. He let out a small whimper, a whine in anticipation. He braced himself with one hand against the backrest of the arm of the sofa, the other seeking Sirius's hair to lace his fingers in the soft silken strands.
Lorcan gaze was kept on Sirius's eyes, his mouth and eyes. His own eyes didn't close, he wanted to watch. Wanted to satisfying all his senses, sound, taste, touch and sight. "Sirius," he said in a murmur, in weak, very weak protest against the tease. "Sirius."