"I intend to," he purrs as he gives a gentle thrust of his fingers, pushing them deep. Essek feels tight and Percy can't tell how much of that is from the toy and how much is from the time that's passed since they last did this. The first time he had Essek's ass is a giddy memory now, one of many in the unfolding of intimacies between them.
"I remember first seeing you, covered from chin to the floor," he murmurs as he drags a few more kisses across Essek's leg. "I could not have imagined I would one day see you like this."
As he speaks, he works his fingers steadily in and out of his omega, coaxing him to yield to the gentle but persistent effort to stretch him open. He leans down enough to bite Essek's thigh - not hard, but enough to pinch.
"Maybe I dreamed of it," he admits. "But never dared think you'd be mine."
Not like this. They'd been cordial with each other, cautious, until finding inroads through mutual passions, or at the very least the ability to see each other's capability for passion through their work: Essek in his tower, Percival in his workshop and in the civic projects he's been elbow-deep in since they met. But now here they are, moving in the same direction, wanting the same things.
Gods, he loves this man.
He looks down at Essek as he teases with a third finger, prepared to stay at two for a while longer but curious none the less. And as he does, a flicker of that wicked streak that has never really died appears.
"If only your Dynasty could see you now," he murmurs.
no subject
"I remember first seeing you, covered from chin to the floor," he murmurs as he drags a few more kisses across Essek's leg. "I could not have imagined I would one day see you like this."
As he speaks, he works his fingers steadily in and out of his omega, coaxing him to yield to the gentle but persistent effort to stretch him open. He leans down enough to bite Essek's thigh - not hard, but enough to pinch.
"Maybe I dreamed of it," he admits. "But never dared think you'd be mine."
Not like this. They'd been cordial with each other, cautious, until finding inroads through mutual passions, or at the very least the ability to see each other's capability for passion through their work: Essek in his tower, Percival in his workshop and in the civic projects he's been elbow-deep in since they met. But now here they are, moving in the same direction, wanting the same things.
Gods, he loves this man.
He looks down at Essek as he teases with a third finger, prepared to stay at two for a while longer but curious none the less. And as he does, a flicker of that wicked streak that has never really died appears.
"If only your Dynasty could see you now," he murmurs.