Daneel might not understand, logically, what it is he's asking for, but Ned's brain isn't operating on the level of logic at that moment. He's hardly thinking at all, merely responding to Daneel's increasingly precise movements. There's something so fundamentally different about being sexual with another person, about the way he can't quite anticipate what Daneel will do, about knowing that Daneel - in his own unique way - is enjoying himself, is present with him in this moment,

So when Daneel asks, Ned knows what it is he wants, because it's the only thing he is really capable of giving at the moment. He was poised on the edge of it, trying to hold it off as long as he could, to savor the moment. But then Daneel says that one word, and how could Ned possibly refuse him? It isn't just a matter of choice, though: the thought of Daneel asking him, wanting this from him, is the final grain that tips the scale. He lets go, whole body shaking with the force of it.

There's an echo in his ears of what he realizes was probably quite a loud shout, as bit by bit his mind comes back into focus. Every inch of him feels hot and sensitive and perfect, and he can't seem to remember how to move. For now, just breathing, feeling his heart pounding away in his chest, is as much as he can manage.