Ivan certainly can't find any fault in the way David's hand feels in his, thumb running over the skin on the back of his hand in a question of are you alright; he can't exactly miss the way the other man's head jerked -- for a moment he'd been afraid that he'd hit it on the bed and Ivan would have to think quickly on how to deal with a concussed, aroused client. Luckily, he doesn't have to put that much thought towards it, as David manages to recover easily.

Responding is impossible, at least in words, so instead Ivan hums. Swallowing around David, Ivan pulls back slowly, dragging lips and tongue along his length until he can flick his tongue over the head teasingly. That might be unfair, Ivan supposes, and his eyes flick up to David's before giving his hand another squeeze and repeating himself.

He did say for him to continue, after all.