He can feel the knot beginning to soften, but Percy tries to stay exactly where he is. The sentiment Essek shares touches him deeply and he tries to respond without words through the spell's link.

Not in the dark now, he murmurs.

There's a bit of a rest between each round, in part to let the knot go down enough that Percy can move at all. But he stays true to his word: for as long as Essek's spell holds up, Percival does not fully withdraw from him. That also means he isn't able to stem the flow of come that spills between them after each successive round. There is something dizzying in the realization that his mate is full to overflowing. Percy finds himself wickedly curious as to how it will be when he does fully pull out, whenever Essek allows it.

Percival has been trying to keep track of time, but it's more difficult to hold onto minutes like this, especially when he's breeding his husband.

Not too long ago, he started fucking into Essek again with lazy but firm thrusts. It's the third - fourth? - time that he's started again. His knot is still slightly swollen near the base of his cock, but not enough yet to get caught in his mate again just yet. It rubs against Essek's cunt every time Percy pushes in without quite penetrating. He's determined to finish again before the spell gives way on them, but this has tested even his endurance.

He nuzzles against Essek, breath huffing through his hair and against his neck.

You're so full... can you feel it? You are going to be an utter mess by the time we part.