When Taff slid into him, Ioan's body arched of its own accord, both in protest and invitation to go deeper, faster. Ioan's eyes were closed and he bit his lip to stifle a cry, though sound did leave him dressed as a breathy moan. There was pain, gods, yes, but there was also pleasure and colors exploding behind his eyelids. Whether it was from what he was feeling or how hard he had them closed, he didn't know or care. His breath came harder, forced between his teeth in hissing gusts.
With his free hand, he reached up and fisted his fingers in Taff's hair, rather than reaching between him to look after his own needs. As they came together completely, his eyes finally flashed open and they were dark with want, glazed over with feeling.
"O 'n gysegr-lân fam chan dduw, gwna mo arhosa, anafa, namyn dduw, gwna mo arhosa," he breathed, his heart pounding. "Constantine, shit, don't...god. Fuck me, will you?"
(ooc: roughly translated - oh holy mother of god, don't stop, it hurts, but don't stop)