The people Sylvain had 'entertained' this way back home had been far more the selfish sort, using him for their own pleasure or ambition, trying to angle their way up the societal ladder. Or they were innocent enough to have no idea what they were doing in the first place, just wanting to try anyway. Either way, it had meant that Sylvain was most often the one doing most of the ordering or guiding, controlling the situation and what they shared. Not to say he hadn't enjoyed many of them, but far more often it had been a role he was playing, rather than actually losing himself in the moment, in the pleasure to be shared between two people like this.

There was something that made it far more intense, knowing he didn't have to pretend anything here, and that Jesper was being just as honest. At least, he hoped. He suspected Jesper could wear just as many faces as he did, but Sylvain didn't think he was right now.

"I don't..." he bites off the words on a gasp when Jesper grips his hips, holding him in place as he angles his next thrust to purposefully rub up over that soft, sending sharp pleasure arcing through him. His pace stutters and then picks up as he rocks his hips back as much as Jesper's grip will allow, wanting to keep the pleasure just as intense for Jesper if he can manage it. "I don't want it to be all about me. There's two of us here."

And he'd spent too long with sex being too much of a one-sided thing.

"Fuck, Jesper, I love everything you do. Talking, kissing, fucking. You're fucking perfect. Goddess, you..." His voice hisses out into a broken moan again when Jesper moves to sit up and that only sends him all the deeper, the new angle rubbing along his nerves and now the additional friction of his fingers around Sylvain's cock. At this rate, he knows he's not going to be able to hold on for much longer.

"Jesper, fuck, I'm close, please..."