He hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said Jedao's voice was enough, and that rough baritone drawl shivers right down to his toes, that much more irresistibly intimate for being all in his head. He digs his bare heels into the floor, enough to lever his ass up so he can shove his blacks down out of the way with his free hand, give himself room to move.

"Then why-" His hips arch up again, this time into his loosely curled fist, and his eyes snap open, just a thin ring of whisky gold iris haloing the dark wells of his pupils as he fixes his gaze on Jedao's shadow. "Why do you keep kriffing putting... putting me off?" he demands, his own voice a low growl, his accent going thick.