"Fuck." It's breathed out as he works to keep himself under some sort of control despite everything. If he thought it would do any good, he'd start begging in earnest for Zevran to really fill him, cock and rod both, to have him one more time.

"I'm straining now, against myself, seeking more and getting it when I start to wonder if it will happen, and I'm not prepared. I do jerk, then, trying to follow it up as you pull it out, and only stilling as you hold me and let go of it. The sight of it, of it..." He's so hard his thighs are starting to ache from the way his heels are pressed down into the bed. His fingers are tight on Zevran's thighs in return as Anders tries to breathe himself down and catch his breath. After a few moments he's finally leaning back against Zevran again, swallowing hard at the feeling of the assassin's cock trapped between them.

"It can't sink down fast enough, and it can't sink down slowly enough." His voice is hoarse, and he has a feeling Zevran might be feeling rather proud of himself right now. It's fair. Zevran's earned it. "I ask you for the next, no, I beg you, my voice cracking over the words because I can't imagine how full I'd feel and you've made me want this so very much."