He whimpers a little more, easily tilting his head back against the door to give Astarion easier access to his throat.

"I like - almost everything," Jedao huffs, his cheeks going hot and pink for a moment in embarrassment, even if he's only admitting the obvious. "I want to be good. I want to be good for you."

It's not not praise kink, but it's not just that, either. Whatever it looks like, being good, being easy, being - an indulgence, not indulged and tolerated.

"I'm in your hands, remember?" He points out.