"Hot. Full." Like it could break him, like Locus could break him- but he won't. Doesn't want to. There's an extension of that trust and it is as intoxicating as the steady grind against that bundle of crackling nerves lighting him up from the inside out.

The next drop punches a sharp moan out of him and his hips start to go on their own- instinct and intuition and his own stuttering rhythm- none of the seductive glide but earnest, aching. "Like I could, ha- drown in you-"