After the initial 'surge' washes off of his energy, he breaks the kiss and inhales a soft, shaking breath as he works to align his focus back to the present, to her hand on his arousal and the fire burning in the pit of his belly.

A voice echoes in his headspace 'settle down, featherduster' and he laughs to himself, feeling a bit foolish at having such a strong reaction.

"Forget the gods..." he mutters, voice breaking with a bit of a pleasured groan as he covers her hand with his, 'helping' her to resume the rhythm she had set earlier. He is falling apart in pieces, and he knows he will not last much longer. "...much prefer to be touched by the dragon."