If he wants more of those things, he’s certainly doing all the right things to get them. They haven’t played with this much, and maybe Gustavain assumed Phillip wouldn’t want to, but for all his posturing and plays for control there’s no denying that he’s more than happy here, being manhandled and teased to the other’s whims.

His breath staggers again when Gustavain tells him what’s coming, a heat that probably shouldn’t be there rising in him in response. He shifts just each to trace over his jawline, something about the touch hungry even as he fights to keep the rest of his body still. “Well, you’ve already made an absolute mess of my clothes,” he says, his dramatics a little less potent for how breathless he is, “What else would there be to complain about?”