It's hard to tell at first if he's in some kind of distress or enjoying himself. He doesn't move away or ask for it to stop, though, so it's a good a sign as any to continue for a bit longer.

When I do pull my hand back out, I smirk, taking a step away to pull my own shirt up and over my head. Tossing it aside, I turn and head towards the bedroom. "Do not pick that up," I warn over my shoulder, still a little annoyed and confused that it's something that even has to be said.