"And neither of them are as pretty as you up there, on top of me, holding me down with your will and your words and the force of your mouth," David counters.

He doesn't tighten his grip. He doesn't need to. And that is mostly because his mind turns to his power. A projection of psionic energy in the form of something not unlike wings forms over them, wrapping down around the couch. It's not much for true force because it's a large area, but it's all there from the force of David's will and desire alone. A statement without saying.

"Tell me what you want, so I can give it."