Pressed flush to his back, Caleb can feel every tremor in Yussa's body. He noses into his hair, breathing him in, and happily lets two fingers press up inside him when guided to. He groans right along with Yussa as he pushes them in slowly, rubbing along soft, slick walls and feeling the gradual stretch as Yussa's smaller body lets him in. He curses softly in Zemnian, rocking his hand in shallow thrusts to put pressure on his clit as he finally buries his fingers to the last knuckle.

"Gods, you are always so tight, but you stretch so well for me," he praises, cupping his palm and curling his fingers to give Yussa a good angle to rub into. He loves his restless energy, how he moves his hips to get the friction he needs. Caleb fucks him firmly with his fingers, can hear the slick, messy sound of it, and keeps the heel of his hand firm.

Of course he isn't going to stop. He could do this for hours--or until his hand tires, at the very least. There is nothing like having Yussa writhing shamelessly against him. In fact, as Caleb pulls his fingers halfway out, dripping wetness that trickles into his palm, he tucks a third in alongside the other two and pushes deep.

"That's it," he says, so softly. "Look at you, I can't believe you didn't ask for this. If you need my fingers in your cunt so badly, you can tell me, liebling."