Even these little movements, the involuntary tightening and trembling, make Caleb very aware of his oversensitive cock buried entirely in the heat of Yussa's cunt. It is an enjoyable awareness so far, the way some things can be enjoyable despite a little pain. Because of it, even. For him, at least.

In contrast, Yussa's praise and his gentle touch, especially across his scarred forearms, makes him shiver. Of all the requests he might make, Caleb isn't expecting to be asked to speak. The compliment--that Yussa likes to hear him, enjoys his voice that much--strikes him as unexpectedly sweet. He's never been asked to do that in bed. He can say what comes to mind unprompted, but put on the spot he is suddenly drawing a blank. But he doesn't want to disappoint. Maybe he should start with observations and see where that leads.

"You are so warm," he murmurs, low and rasping with the weight of his accent. He'd considered Zemnian, but chooses Common because he wants to be understood, though that may be a mistake if this becomes just stream-of-consciousness babbling. The words ghost across Yussa's shoulder as he angles his chin to look down, to see what he's doing between their legs with the slow rub of his fingers, the pressure growing tighter as his fingers draw closer. "Here especially. So hot and hard against my fingers. I miss feeling it on my tongue. My mouth would be on you already if I did not want to keep you full of my cock tonight."

Ah, that's it. He just has to be brazenly honest.