Krem's mind was swarming with questions. He wanted to have Thomas talk him through the touch, tell him how to touch, where to touch, but the words were out of him entirely, incapable of translating the questions tripping around his head into words on his tongue. Thomas's hands, growing more and more bold and focusing steadily, only strove to break the connection between Krem's mind and his tongue, until all he could do was let out a breathless, laughing little noise of pleasure.

His hips stuttered to meet Thomas's, pinning his hand for a moment. He longed, desperately, that Thomas could feel just how much this affected him as well; that it was as obvious to Thomas as it was to him, without having to ask Thomas to touch him as well.

"Feels good." He let out another whispering laugh at the words, unsure if he was speaking for himself and Thomas's touch, or asking Thomas if he agreed, or both.