Finally, finally Byleth gives him what he really wants, and the waves of pleasure that wash over him with each thrust turn his pleading into wordless moaning. The professor tells him he's good, Felix lived up to his expectations, he's doing well. And Byleth shortens his leash as though staking a claim, and it makes him shudder.

He nods at the question, but squirms and struggles. "Touch me," he begs, opening his eyes and gazing up at Byleth in an urgent, pleasurable haze. "Please. Please touch me. I can't--"

But it was his own request that Byleth not touch him, and in the heat of the moment he's not sure whether he'd rather the professor uphold or reject the agreement; not sure which he wants more, the touch that would easily send him over the edge immediately, or the strict denial that would reinforce Byleth's complete control.

Like everything else, it's in Byleth's hands, and Felix is grateful for that.