That growl drags out something visceral from Ulysse's gut, his teeth ending up digging into his lower lip as his nostrils flare on a long, hard exhale as his cock's tongued at. His hand settles over Rook's head, stroking his hair with slightly trembling fingers, the motion helping to ground himself.

It's ridiculous how close he suddenly feels to orgasm now that Rook's between his legs. The mage is clearly not one to normally take this position, willingly, and while he's also obviously not a stranger to going down on a man, there's a certain unpracticed roughness to his movements that says it all, and that somehow just makes it that much more intense for Ulysse. That Rook is doing something he normally doesn't, and is apparently enjoying it to some extent.

"Rook," he murmurs, eyes growing more hooded as he stares down at the mage's face, absently shifting his free arm back to pillow and prop up his head. This isn't a sight he wants to forget any time soon, after all.