Every word stokes the fire in him and feeling Essek's encouraging touch threatens to make him forget everything else. His fingers curl tightly, dragging up his husband's dress - not far enough to get a hand beneath it, not yet, but acknowledging that guidance. The way his mate echoes that possessive feeling in him threatens to undo him.

He tries to keep his breath steady.

"Essek..." There's almost a plea in his voice. Begging permission or begging his husband to stop before it goes too far, or some strained position between each pole. His arm tightens around Essek's waist, closing the scant space between them just to make sure the wizard can feel the shape of his aching cock through his formal wear.

"If you don't want me to fuck you here, right now--"

Percival doesn't quite finish the ultimatum. If Essek does not want him to drag his dress up and fuck him against this wall, he has to guide them elsewhere. Percy doesn't have it in him to navigate.