[His fingers tighten around him, a brief squeeze before he strokes at him languidly, thumb teasing over the head of his arousal to collect and smear the moisture he finds there down along the length of him.]

You are mine...

[Orym murmurs with a smile.]

And I'll show you that right now, beautiful. You'll look so pretty coming apart under me, begging me for more.

[His free hand reaches out and the bedside drawer opens, a small glass bottle flies towards his fingers.]

Turn over for me?