[ The jolt that runs through him as Quentin goes on is... conflicting. Cumming is not at all what Harlan meant by adjusting the pitch. He recoils, disgusted—or he would if he had anywhere to go. Instead, he's forced to sit in it, to listen as Quentin mewls apologies.
And Harlan did this, didn't he? His magic is so powerful that all it took were a few sentences to bring Quentin to the brink. The disgust turns inward as he wrestles with the surge of smug pride over the thought. ]
It's— It's fine. It's fine, just ride it out. You're in control.
[ But he's not, is he? Harlan is. ]
It won't end unless you want it to, and you can take it. Let it feel good. Let it—put an image to it. What do you want to feel? Focus on that—and focus on me.
cw whee more dubcon
And Harlan did this, didn't he? His magic is so powerful that all it took were a few sentences to bring Quentin to the brink. The disgust turns inward as he wrestles with the surge of smug pride over the thought. ]
It's— It's fine. It's fine, just ride it out. You're in control.
[ But he's not, is he? Harlan is. ]
It won't end unless you want it to, and you can take it. Let it feel good. Let it—put an image to it. What do you want to feel? Focus on that—and focus on me.