Eiffel is still winning, as far as being articulate goes. Jedao is spared the dubious indignity of confessing how much he thinks about his mouth on Eiffel via the more indisputable indignity of a long, loud, messy moan. Jedao loves being bitten, and he whines and whimpers, hands clenching and unclenching in Eiffel's hair, hips rocking in tiny, hungry jerks.