Draco is all panting, gasps of effort and a tangled fall of pale blond hair. He could tease, pretend he's not so very affected, but when he's dragging Billy back onto his prick and snapping his hips forward hard Draco loses his ability to pretend anything at all. He can feel a perfect heaven of tightness shifting all around him, possessing the sort of magic nothing else seems to, that ability to shut out all else, until it's only them, the pounding of their hearts and the somewhat desperate throb of him inside as they find some sort of rhythm.

He has no intention of stopping. He only wants more.

"'Course not," he gasps a bit senselessly following another heavy groan, and a harder snap in his hips.