It's quite clear that Ulysse would sooner cut off his own hand than put a knife to Rook's back, at least to him. The thought of any harm coming to this bizarre, fierce, hypnotising man is just...

Ulysse shakes his head and leans in again, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to one side of Rook's lips before resting their brows together. His breath hitches a bit as he starts to move a slight bit faster, squeezing around the cock he's riding so leisurely. How long have they been doing this? It feels as if this is all he knows or cares about, now, as though everything before this had been irrelevant. Completely consumed as he is by Rook.

Hmm, perhaps he's better suited to being a whore than he'd previously thought. At least when it comes to Rook...