He has high hopes for the sounds he'll be hearing out of her mouth, it's true.

'Gives me the horn.'

If he's any judge, he's not the only one suffering that particular fate at the moment.

His mouth finds her neck; his fingers bunch her dress where he's holding her arse. And his other hand creeps onto her breast, cupping it gently, like he's convinced she's going to shove him away any second, but is hoping his lips are distracting her attention from it.