That's not a very surprising admission, given what he knows about Rama. His compartmentalizes and squirrels away real emotion just to get himself through the day; desire would never factor into it, even with his fiancé at home waiting for him.

He pulls himself away from thoughts of Rama's fiancé, reassuring himself that here he is mine, there he is hers. Here Rama is his. Right now Rama has his hands on him, and they're kissing and whispering to each other like proper lovers, and battered and bruised as he is he feels so goddamned alive it almost hurts worse than his lungs.

"I...uhn." His head dips slightly, a laugh catching at the back of his throat. "God, you touch me like you love me."

Which he knows he does, he just needed him to know, to have it said. It feels like love. He can't imagine anything wouldn't at this point though.

"A little firmer," he decides. "I'm not broken down there. Anything...anything else. Anything you wish to give me, I'll adore."