There are still two ties dropped on the bed and Granby reaches for his own, first. He might only have one hand now but, in essence, he's been working with one hand for years, now, hanging onto dragons by his harnesses, staying stable while he made down. He loops silk around Priestly's wrists, tying a knot and pulling it tight enough to hold. He scrapes blunt nails along the line of Priestly's spine and then he reaches for Priestly's own tie, balling it in his fist.

"Now open your mouth."