Gods, but somehow Yussa is especially attractive when he gives these teasing reminders about how much he is worth, and what Caleb has paid to have him. He would expect a pricy courtesan to avoid mentioning their fee after the initial transaction, to weave an illusion of complete exclusivity. But then, Caleb had brought it up himself at the beginning in noticing how Yussa enjoyed the notion of him: a man who could never purchase him on a whim, whose dedication was proven by the months he spent working to save that coin, unlike his typical patrons. Yussa must have seen how that appeal goes both ways. He must have understood that Caleb is equally perplexed and aroused by the impossible contradiction of his rough, calloused hands handling such a fine thing. A man like him shouldn't be permitted--yet he is.

With effort, he turns onto his side. The back of his knuckles trace lightly, reverently, from Yussa's shoulder down his folded arm. A thumb brushes over his cheek, and last against the faint lines at the outer corners of his eyes that Caleb so adores.

"Sacrifices I would gladly make again, as rightful compensation for a night like no other," he murmurs. "It would be an insult to pay any less for the pleasure of your..." Caleb's gaze slides very obviously down Yussa's body to his ass, lingering there for a long moment before snapping back up. As their eyes meet again, his smile curls suggestively wider. "...company."