He makes no immediate verbal reply, merely narrowing his eyes and widening his grin. His extended pinky beckons with a few inward curls and he deliberately changes the angle of the cant of his head, keeping his eyes on Riddler's all the while.
"I think exactly what I said," he leans in a little closer, almost like he's drunk, and speaks so his words move the air around Riddler's ear, "is that I would get you off every time you snapped your fingers." His chuckles tangle in his throat, a mangling of thrill and lust and feral delight. Why do the stupid risky thing? Because it's fun, obviously.
...Maybe also because John loves how quickly Riddler took to the idea, like an addict with their choice buzz; no space for hesitation between affirmation and desire. Riddler likes how John's imagination works; approves of his dangerous whims; and John is always starving for the affirmation.
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"I think exactly what I said," he leans in a little closer, almost like he's drunk, and speaks so his words move the air around Riddler's ear, "is that I would get you off every time you snapped your fingers." His chuckles tangle in his throat, a mangling of thrill and lust and feral delight. Why do the stupid risky thing? Because it's fun, obviously.
...Maybe also because John loves how quickly Riddler took to the idea, like an addict with their choice buzz; no space for hesitation between affirmation and desire. Riddler likes how John's imagination works; approves of his dangerous whims; and John is always starving for the affirmation.