Echoing the sentiment becomes something on the verge of uncontrollable, something that he skirts close to time and time again without actually ceding his control. This had been something of a risk when he'd settled on his plan to attend this evening's festivities, reasoning with himself that the whole point of it was to remain anonymous. He'd plan to leave well before the masks slid off and revealed rosy-cheeked partygoers, all too far off centre with alcohol and the rest to mind or notice.

Collaring Enver and removing him far enough from the crowd had been something he'd been prepared to bide his time with. An acceptance that while this is a risk, he doesn't leave it entirely to Enver to shoulder the responsibility of mitigating it.

And yet here they are, just out of sight and reach of the rest of the soiree and yet so totally wrapped up in each other that he struggles to hold back his own sound of enjoyment. The sudden soft heat of the man's guts squeezing the hard length of his cock is almost too much to keep a firm grasp of his control and the other man. But he succeeds, fingers tightening a fraction more and bound to leave marks long after just today.

Mere seconds trickle by as his hips strain to keep him deep, his pulse climbing as he exhales heavily and only when he can't bear to remain still any longer does he move again. Establishing a rhythm at the expense of feeling the tight heat grip at him is a worthy next step, one that he drives forward for the both of them, almost mindless of how close the other man is to being ground into the wall ahead of him.