Wilhelm can appreciate his beauty later, right then, Jesper needs him to be inside of him. He is impatient now, he wants it, he's desperate. He pushes back when Wilhelm thrusts forward because of how enthusiastic he is, moaning loudly at the force of it. "Saints, yes, oh Wilhelm." The slap of their skin together, the sweat and power of their bodies moving so fluidly, the abandon of lust, it's everything Jesper loves about life. This is why he can never get enough of sex, why he hungers for it the way he does.

He whimpers and leans on one hand because the other one hooks around to Wilhelm's head, although it doesn't last. He scrambles, fingers clinging down the sweaty slope of his back, and then grips his ass, pulling him deeper and deeper. "That's it, baby, let go." Jesper's gasping, his hand tugging when he finally feels Wilhelm come, trying to force him to stay so he can feel him jerk, twitch, and release inside.

It doesn't actually matter that Jesper hasn't come too. Not for him. Knowing this was Wilhelm's first time doing this and that he so powerfully took what he needed, it's like a drug to him. Besides, it will only take a few more strokes for him to get there, and he likes a little orgasm denial. On the edge of pleasure and agony is a sweet spot. Jesper lets him slump on top and enjoys the weight of him.

"Mmm, don't get out of me. Here, lean to the side, sweetheart." He is already folded down on his knees so it's very easy for him to lean over and Jesper lifts his leg just a little so Wilhelm can stay inside as they adjust in a spooning position. Jesper sounds drunk and he is, on lust. "I want you to feel when I come too."