He hardly held back the heated sigh from the touch, and reached back to run his claws down the back of his head, his neck.

After a brief touch of cheek to cheek, he moved for the dismount. Inwardly, he was damning his position. He had to be so fucking responsible now and all and do work...

But if he finished and adequately cleared his schedule enough, then he could just wrap himself right up again.

Being twitterpated was suitable motivation.