Wren grabbed one of Rowan's ankles in each hand and pushed his legs back toward his chest so that his hips lifted off the pillows. This put him at a perfect angle for Wren to prepare him with his tongue, which he started to do before Rowan even realized that was his intention.
He held him like that with a firm hand on the back of each thigh while Rowan twisted his arms to grip the pillows where his hands rested over his head, torn once again between being embarrassed and wanting to beg for more.
"You…you don't have to do that," Rowan blurted out, then immediately moaned afterwards, contradicting his own words. After that, the will to speak left him completely.
Wren ignored him and slid a finger inside him instead. He kept up the work of his tricky tongue and finger just long enough for Rowan to feel loose from the soft pressure on that most sensitive of areas. His moan turned to a desperate panting, tiny sounds of his arousal snagging at the back of his throat.
