This time it's not even exactly a moan. It's lower, softer, heavier, and he goes completely limp in the cradle of Neil's body, throat utterly exposed. All of him feels exposed, laid so bare that he has no hope of hiding anything even if he wanted to.

There was never a question of resistance. Neil is going to have everything.

Please, he thinks in a flash of coherence, as the sound escaping him twists up into something a little like a sob. Please, God, please. Please.