He allowed himself a whimper at the feel of her fingers in his hair. His mind was quickly developing a mantra that chanted to the rhythm of the movements of his tongue. Use me, move me, take me, hurt me.
He suckled a little harder, then nibbled softly - not enough to hurt, but enough to provoke a response before he turned back to licks and sucks. The more he worked, the more her wetness slicked around his lips. His inner prissiness fought to be heard, ordering him to stop immediately and clean himself off, but he ignored it in favour of pleasing his goddess.