[When you're named the Noah of Pleasure you develop a certain ego about these things.]
Ah. [His scars are sensitive, in a good way, to her teeth and a rumble of pleasure sits in his throat. His fingers piston into her with a small increase in speed, a short burst while his breaths go heavy; he very much enjoys the sound of a moaning woman.
He kisses her jawline, up to the shell of her ear.] Bed, wall? What's your preference, love?