Percy's hand presses against Essek's stomach, just above his cock, as his husband tilts his hips back just so. He can feel the wet heat of his cunt and he groans against Essek's shoulder as he's given permission. Aware that Essek is still floating, Percival turns them and gently (still gentle, always) pushes the drow toward the bed. Essek doesn't get much of a head start. He drops his smalls and follows quickly, bullying his mate down onto the bed if he has to until he can cover Essek's body with his.

"I love you," he says heavily against his lover's ear. Trembling with need and the effort of restraint to this point, Percy gets between Essek's thighs and he reaches down to guide his aching cock. Usually, the lord of Whitestone isn't overly vocal in bed. He'll voice his pleasure and make himself clear, but he's rarely loud. He cannot help the gasping moan as his cock slides past his husband's opening; with a firm thrust, he pushes in. He was inside Essek an hour ago and this still feels like the first time all night.

He keeps his head down, nose against Essek's temple as he gives another roll of his hips, trying to get as deep as he can.