[ Despite the tightness of that hold, Sylvain still struggles to squirm, to press back against the man holding him. The press of that arousal against his backside, because that's the proof of how much Basch wants him, and that ignites that flame within him even hotter. Something that feels like it should be acknowledged.
There's no verbal answer to that praise, other than a whine that melts into a hitching moan as Basch's fingers seek out sensitivity and torment is with single-minded determination. That focus wholly on him is overwhelming, especially when the man has been paying attention to what drives him mad. And is now systematically using it against him.
Even if all of Sylvain's walls hadn't already been down this morning, this certainly would have shattered whatever was left of them. ]
no subject
There's no verbal answer to that praise, other than a whine that melts into a hitching moan as Basch's fingers seek out sensitivity and torment is with single-minded determination. That focus wholly on him is overwhelming, especially when the man has been paying attention to what drives him mad. And is now systematically using it against him.
Even if all of Sylvain's walls hadn't already been down this morning, this certainly would have shattered whatever was left of them. ]