Were he stronger, he would have told Aramis that they could both endure a lack of touching. Except, he's not. He's weak and he's needy and Aramis' hands feel so good and the warmth of his forehead is more than enough. He's not wearing any underwear, given that he'd only been fussing about the flat, which means there's a thin layer and a thin layer only between Aramis' mouth and his cock. The whimper that he lets out is permission enough, though his fingers itch to reach out and touch Aramis.

He only stops himself with the reminder that there will be no marks and no press of cloth to skin if he takes them off Aramis now. "Will it strain you? To do that in your corset?" Even the word sounds sinful and daring, exciting all at once.