Emet-Selch moaned abruptly, mouth working around Hyth's fingers, his eyes opening and then closing as he writhes un the bonds he could easily break if he saw fit. But his eyes roll in his head, and that inhuman hunger for more stirs in his aether-rich soul.

This one, he wants to say, is very good and deserves more. But instead muscles flex and relax, fingers curling and unfurling as he restrains himself as much as the bonds do.