Being here is an act of trust. Writhing between very strong jaws just to fuck a wolf's tongue is an act of trust as much as it is desperation. Percy whines as his mate's cunt squeezes around him, trying to milk a cock that isn't there. He's panting, breath warm against Essek's skin as his omega works himself to an orgasm. Percival growls as slick walls go tight and as Essek shakes apart beneath him, coating his tongue with a rush of slick wetness.

Very good, darling.

There is something so utterly incongruous about the smooth voice in Essek's head and the great beast between his thighs. Percy withdraws his tongue and licks a broad stripe over Essek's cunt and his stomach, cleaning away the come there with a rumble of satisfaction.

The wolf gets up slowly, thinking this next reveal will have to happen eventually, too. No sense in waiting. His cock is halfway out of its sheath, a red, wet contrast to his pale fur. He is aching to bury himself, but like every other introduction tonight, he has decided this will go at his omega's pace. For now, Percy sits back, leaving Essek with a view when he comes around from the intensity of that first release. He finds himself grateful that he isn't in a rut, or this sort of control might be beyond him.

I will not fuck you until you are certain, he says, blue eyes intent but his gaze still soft as he looks up at his husband.