He might twitch away from the ticklish whispering but he doesn't go that far and is a bit too caught on that teasing, barely-there penetration that draws a faint frown to his brow because it could be more, it could be less. Ulysse doesn't push or pull, though. He stays where he is, breath picking up a bit but otherwise remaining warm and pliant wrapped up in Rook, watching the mage's face with a warm gaze as he's played with.

"You're the last person I ever expected to comment on my smile," he retorts, that same little smile flashing across his lips before he pushes in close again to steal another kiss, hips only pressing back with the tiniest bit of pressure to invite more of that finger into him.