Were he sober, he might have been able to see through his own lust clouding his mind and catch on to Jade being in a not so different position after all. But he's not only drunk, he's high on the sensations, on the meaning behind each of Jade's words, each touch. His cock is slathered with precome, spreading on the hot skin with every stroke.

"Yes, please. Please consider it." He's right on the edge, lower abdomen tightening in a spasm and he fears he will lose it right there -- and then the warm, firm grip is gone.

No, he's not one to whine, normally. Yet normally he's allowed to get off. And so a low whine does spill out, his mouth quickly pressed into Jade's throat to stifle himself. "No." His yearning is a thick layer on his otherwise breathless voice. He leans back to look at Jade, who seems a bit blurry. "Why?"