Much let his body take over- or not so much let as... Much's body took over. He didn't seem to make the conscious decision to grab Dionysus' hair so firmly, or thrust his hips quite so hard, but as soon as he was doing them there was no going back, not with the god looking at him with such encouraging hunger. But beneath the pleasure, frustration coiled- it wasn't enough, it needed to be harder, or faster? Or? Just more? Much smothered a needy moan with his hand, grasping onto Dionysus' hair. "Oh, god, fuck, more, please- I need more- fuck-"