The way Rook leans in keeps Epel from being able to look him in the eye... something that he would soon realize was a mercy on Rook's part. His breath catches, his eyes widen as he listens to those words, whispered so sweetly in his ear. Those smaller hands still briefly against Rook, one hand curling to grasp at the fabric of his shirt a little harder, as his breathing becomes slightly labored, with all the thoughts those words bring about in his mind.

Was Rook making this up in the moment, or had he actually had these thoughts before? The way Rook was talking really didn't sound like he was talking off the cuff. So he'd... thought about this, too, then. In some capacity, maybe a little different than the way Epel had thought about it before, but still similarly.

Rook's goal of getting him to squirm more is easily achieved, his hips squirming against Rook, a soft whine slipping from his lips-- and, almost immediately, he's bringing up a hand to clamp over his mouth, embarrassed. Can Rook feel the heat of his flushed face, so close to his own?

"You... don't have to wonder..." Epel murmurs, muffled behind his hand before he manages to drop it, moving his hand back down to tug at Rook's shirt. "I want to see you look at me with adoration, to be spread out under you a... and...." He's trying, but Seven is he flustered, beginning to stammer out his words.