[ the game has passed, and now he focuses only on pleasure, hands and mouth working together. Sylvain is already so wound up, but the ring is keeping the build slow, so Basch intentionally increases the pace, the intensity. He can feel himself getting hard again, feeling Sylvain tremble and buck under his touch, hearing every moan and whimper. He presses down on his tongue, a reminder to both of them of where that mouth had just been, and the strokes of his hand become more urgent, stimulating his head as he sucks hard on the other’s neck.

His own hips begin to rock, half-hard cock pressing against Sylvain, breath raspy and wanting. Finally his mouth breaks away, knowing words can help push that last bit. ]

Look at you, beauty. Everyone else is. They’re so jealous of you, here on my lap being pampered, and of me getting to do it. You’ve managed these toys so well. I want to hear you crest. Come for me, pet, sing. Grip onto me like you’ll blow away if you don’t. Wear my mark to remind you how beautiful it was.

[ his lips are back, hard on his jaw, and he can tell from the desperate whines and please sylvain is close. ]