Little else seemed to catch Shae's attention as the sudden onslaught of pleasurable electricity coursed through his veins, but somewhere in the hazy space between his ears, he registered Mirza's words. He hesitated for a few moments, hearing but not quite understanding, before it dawned on him just what his partner was demanding.
He pulled out with a hiss, cradling the increasingly flaccid length in his palm and carefully stripping off the used condom, which he deposited on the bedside table in lieu of an actual trashcan. Then he was off the bed and digging through the pile of garments on the floor for his pants, and after several moments he returned with the key in hand.
Shae straddled his prone lover's hips and reached up to unfasten the cuffs one at a time, gingerly removing Mirza's wrists to examine the chafed, but non-bleeding skin. There was nothing hurried or desperate in his actions now, and he handled the entire situation with a calmness that was almost unsettling, as though he'd acted out this exact scenario a million times over. His fingers avoided the angry red markings where the metal of the cuffs had begun to rub the skin raw.
He caught Mirza's eyes momentarily as he leaned over to search through the various sex-play accoutrements in the drawer, then withdrew a small tub of Vaseline. The ointment slid thickly over the abused skin as Shae applied it with gentle, circular motions of his thumb. No words were spoken, but he drew Mirza's hand up to his face as he worked and pressed a kiss to the palm as if in apology.