There isn't the time or will to seek out clarification in words as to whether the man means he won't resist or he won't scream. There's no such moment of hesitation in the hands that work to drag something from the man, to keep up the necessary pressure for the tip of his cock to have any chance whatsoever of sliding in alongside his digits. It was always going to be an effort and multiple attempts.

In the end, he files away the want and desire to continue like this and chooses to expedite their mutual pleasure so they aren't just fumbling in the dark for him to strike both perfect angle and force.

Though he almost succeeds, close to victory as the stretch of the man around him accommodates just the tip and both his fingers for a moment before he pulls them free. With the head of his cock notching into place far more easily now, he grips hard at Enver's hips and uses them to ram himself from tip to base in one fluid motion. Perhaps it's fortunate his hands pull those hips back towards him as he thrusts, saving the smaller man from an immediate reintroduction to the hardness of the wall.