There's nothing wrong with sloppy and unsure. If anything, Ronan's more aroused by the clumsiness, the indisputable knowledge that he's the one guiding Murphy through this for the very first time. With one hand still twisted up in Murphy's hair, the other slides along his side, cradling Murphy closer.

A moan shivers out of him as Murphy's mouth squeezes around him. "Like that," he whispers. "You're doing so good." Ronan's hips roll forward, a subtle thrust deeper, seeking more of that tight heat. His fingers rake through Murphy's hair, gently adjusting his angle and clearing the way to keep fucking Murphy's throat in minute thrusts.

"All you have to do is relax," Ronan instructs, his hand dropping to Murphy's throat again to hold his jaw wide. "Just take what I give you. Drink all of me down. That's what you want, isn't it? You wanna be full of me."