Had Mickey really not heard him? Sorin worried his lower lip, working his way up to being able to say it again, which got steadily easier to think without the ifrit's tongue action. "I want... I want..."
But he didn't finish, feeling the lubed finger slide into him. He didn't need to look back again to know that it wasn't Mickey's cock. Not yet. He'd seen the size of the ifrit and knew there was more to come. And as nice as Mickey's fingers felt, especially when he used a second one and Sorin moaned in his throat, lips pressed firmly together, he wanted more.
Sorin turned his head again, looking at Mickey over his shoulder with breaths coming in short and quick. "I want your beautiful cock," he voiced again, accent thick like a classic Dracula.