A less cautious partner might stop at this point, but when Jedao makes that sound - when he's all but begging for it - Astarion can't find the restraint.

"Two more, my sweet, and then we're done."

The last two are high and low, across his shoulders and just above his knees, as if framing his work. When he stops, when he crosses the floor to close the distance between himself and Jedao, he feels - almost delirious.