[Anything to encourage and praise him like this is his first thoughts and if the headscritches work, then all the better.

Once he's free of his clothing he's settling down again, the free hand from before moves to his shoulder, letting his nails bite into skin just enough to draw drops of blood again.]

Mm, is it?

[He's trying his best to stay under control but it's really hard with him so close to his already almost painfully hard dick, hips trying to push into that warm breath with a soft hiss from teeth he didn't realize were clenched.]

You're going to kill me like this, though. Not that I'd complain if I went out like this. But my poor dick might...