Gustavain makes a deeply satisfied noise to those hands on his body, almost a purr, and arches into the touch. There's still the strange balance of a kind of playful sort of attempt to escape (without any kind of real force or effort behind it) and the very real internal struggle every now and then when something about the Echo or something else behind his eyes picks up the feeling of darkness and enemy and he has to beat that down, choose to stay and keep letting this happen.

But layered thick on top of any of that is the reality that he loves having sex, more for the interesting nature of his partners than solely for the pleasure of it, and they don't come more interesting than this, and he loves the sensual pleasure of being touched like this as well. He'd be hard-pressed to give an answer on whether Phillip's hands or the friction of their cocks is more pleasurable, but regardless, the one begets the other anyway, so it hardly matters. There's a deep shudder as well to the threat of teeth and he bares more of his neck instinctively, neck arching to try to press them harder against his skin.