Rook honestly doesn't understand how Ulysse thinks his ass is his most dangerous weapon. Because there's just no way he's going to look away form those damn eyes when they stare at him like that. It should be terrifying just how tight the grip is that Ulysse has on him, but he doesn't seem to care. This man, the thing inside him owns him already, but it doesn't stop there...

"Literally speaking..." he murmurs as his body is washed from toe to the top of his head with goose bumps just from the way Ulysse sounds, his voice low and rumbling, soft like the purr of a jaguar.

"Are you going to come for me?" he asks as he tightens his grip a little, picking up the pace just enough to drive Ulysse a little mad over it, bring him right to the edge.