[Hurricane jolts, as Rye nips at his thigh, hips twitching upward to press his cock desperately into nothing. He lets out a shuddering moan, as Rye sucks on the sensitive skin hard enough to leave a mark, the intense sensation so close to where he wants to be touched a vicious tease. His hips keep rocking, helpless and restless, trying to work Rye's fingers deeper inside him]

G-god, I was so close. Keep - keep touching me, I want - jesus, please, s-suck me off, put your fingers deeper, touch that spot again -

[His cock twitches again, hard, as Rye pins his wrist and mentions the cock ring in combo with the pheromones; a new drop of precome squeezes free from the tip to trail down the length of him, the soft wet tickle of its trail a reminder of what he really needs]

O-oh my god. I'd lose my mind. It'd be - jesus, it'd be good. Or - or bad, in a real good way. That one power of yours - g-god, it gets right to me. Gets - gets under my skin, makes me wanna come so bad I can't stand it.

[He flushes, dark, at the reminder of the audience; it's that humiliation, more than anything, that keeps his other hand in place on his nipple, instead of reaching to ease the ache of throbbing cock]