There is a gasping whimper as the wet warmth of his husband's mouth closes around his cock, mostly soft, but so sensitive. His reverently whispered words echo in Essek's mind, calling him perfect. His toes curl against the covers, his cock throbs against Percy's tongue, and his cunt tightens so hard Essek's hips lift with a shudder when the fingers filling him slide out.
Thankfully, the wide head of his mate's cock takes their place before he has cause to complain. His fingers spread his dark, glistening wet folds, framing his cunt as it's stretched to take his alpha all the way inside again in one perfect, forceful push that Essek's body is all too eager to accommodate. His own soft moan is, for once, quieter than Percival's, though not because he is any less relieved. Often, moments of intense pleasure leave Essek unable to vocalize.
He feels so wonderfully full, spread open just for his husband. He is breathless and panting as Percival rocks shallowly deep inside him, soft walls tightening rhythmically in little fluttery squeezes as if in an effort to pull him deeper. His thighs quiver with it. Every movement feels electric, sparks shooting through his body. It feels almost like an orgasm in slow motion, but this isn't his peak; impossibly, the tension and the pleasure are still building.
Barely realizing his eyes have closed, they blink open again as his beloved's warm hand rests against his face, directing Essek's attention to his mate's face in turn. "My light," he whispers in Undercommon, because this man is the true center of his world. "More," he urges, "Give me everything." What he wants is to be fucked hard and deep, to feel Percival's passion and intent, to be claimed by the wolf he knows is just beneath his lover's skin. He is so receptive, so ready.
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Thankfully, the wide head of his mate's cock takes their place before he has cause to complain. His fingers spread his dark, glistening wet folds, framing his cunt as it's stretched to take his alpha all the way inside again in one perfect, forceful push that Essek's body is all too eager to accommodate. His own soft moan is, for once, quieter than Percival's, though not because he is any less relieved. Often, moments of intense pleasure leave Essek unable to vocalize.
He feels so wonderfully full, spread open just for his husband. He is breathless and panting as Percival rocks shallowly deep inside him, soft walls tightening rhythmically in little fluttery squeezes as if in an effort to pull him deeper. His thighs quiver with it. Every movement feels electric, sparks shooting through his body. It feels almost like an orgasm in slow motion, but this isn't his peak; impossibly, the tension and the pleasure are still building.
Barely realizing his eyes have closed, they blink open again as his beloved's warm hand rests against his face, directing Essek's attention to his mate's face in turn. "My light," he whispers in Undercommon, because this man is the true center of his world. "More," he urges, "Give me everything." What he wants is to be fucked hard and deep, to feel Percival's passion and intent, to be claimed by the wolf he knows is just beneath his lover's skin. He is so receptive, so ready.