On any other night, in any other place, he would have listened immediately. The stakes of this game are very, very high, for both of them. There's no scolding and scandal waiting, if someone were to catch them, there is only separation and death and the undoing of everything Ienzo is trying, albeit somewhat half-heartedly, to accomplish. But tonight, he is a monster-- he has called himself one and Ienzo has agreed, and he feels daring and invincible, and he does not want Ienzo to be mad at him, in the morning, but he also does not feel like Ienzo ought to be able to control him, when he is unable, anymore, to even control himself.

"No." It is said whisper soft against the shell of Ienzo's ear and the shadow thing teasing him pushes inside him, simultaneous with one sliding against his mouth in a gag and the others tightening around the dishes so they do not rattle. The tendril isn't as large as the ones he typically uses for this purpose, but he wastes no time teasing, moving straight to outright fucking him with it immediately, all brutal, devouring darkness, even as the tendrils coiled around his cock are infinitely more teasing, soft, as they pull at him, "Later," he purrs, the promise of soft sheets and curled limbs, sensual and warm, while he takes him brutally fast in the middle of the hall.