Percival's efforts to thrust up only encourage Essek to ride him harder. His hands brace against his chest and he moves in his lap, a soft whimper in the back of his throat for every rock down. He thinks he can tell how much his husband wants to touch him, but he could always stand to hear it.

"You should have," he says, breathless with exertion. "I could smell you there. I wondered if you would knock. I wanted you to."

It feels so good to take his mate's cock hard and fast like this, but his legs aren't going to last much longer at this rate. He can feel the muscles in his thighs burning, and they begin to shake as he lifts up again. Still moving his hips, he curls forward, resting his forehead against Percival's shoulder.

"I spent all day aching for you." And if Percival aches for him now? Good. He should.