Only... only him, huh...? But what about... about...

Wait, he was... he needed to talk...

"Y-you pick up fast," he groaned, voice husky. "Lefty-tentacle there is on the... thighs... I like touches on the thighs... gentle..."

He'd thought about all the places he liked all the time, but hardly would ever speak of them. To list what he liked and where was enough to heat up his face further.

The king shut his eyes and leaned his chin into the touch further. His breaths were heavy, shallow as he was squirming, driving up just a little more friction.

"Tight on wrists is... is... f-fine... chest can take- take it...!" He grit his teeth, growled. His body was moving on its own, practically riding the tendrils. What was thinking? Thoughts? Brain...

Melting...

"Gonna lose it," he hissed, and his body was feeling bunched, rigid. It desperately ached for release.