Ned had been worried for a second that Daneel might think he was being over-hasty, that he might not listen to his request that he pick up the pace. When he does, and adds a second finger, Ned lets out a choked cry, twisting his head to the side and biting down against the swell of his shoulder. At first it stings just a little, but he ignores it and his body quickly adjusts. The friction is incredible and every time Daneel's fingers brush against that particular spot he stifles a moan of appreciation.

He can hear himself, as if from a distance, telling Daneel to keep going, that it feels amazing, muttering Daneel's name over and over. As wonderful as it feels, though, he wants more. "C'mon," he mutters, reaching up to run his hands over Daneel's shoulders, them up and down the sides of his face and neck, through his hair, restless and affectionate.

"I'm ready," he gasps, hoping it's true. He certainly feels it. The edges of his thoughts are a happy blur, free from embarrassment or worry. He lifts his hips off the bed, toes curling tightly, and the flush has started to spread down his neck and across his chest.