[He watches Sylar work at his belt, practically smirking with satisfaction. Of course, the position they're in is part of the reason. Sylar on his knees looking up at him with adoration- that's just such a delicious picture. But the words, too, are exactly what he wants to hear.

He reaches down himself to undo the buttons to his trousers, pushing them down along with his underwear in one smooth movement. Muscles that are probably newly sculpted reveal themselves, and he stands like a statue one might make of a god. Of course, in this case, he still has his socks on, and most statues aren't carved to include intense, needy erections, but the case could be made.]

So much more, you say. [His voice is getting increasingly breathy, as the anticipation builds.] Why don't you show me? Give me a taste of what you've wanted...what we've both wanted...all this time.

[He was probably damning himself here, some small voice in his head finally managed to say. But nothing and no one was going to stop it, least of all him. Hormones, pheromones, or just his own emotions- they were all pointed directly at this moment. He's going to take what he wants, and that's the end of it.]