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“Don’t you want to be a good boy for me?”
He groaned without thinking, his hips shifting, and in spite of giving it all of his effort, he couldn’t seem to break eye contact. “Yes,” he finally whispered.
Wren lifted a single finger and traced it around Percy’s lips. “Did you even make a sound when you spoke, sweet thing?”
Percy swallowed heavily, then shrugged. “Barely. Sorry, I…I can’t help it. I lose my voice when I get all worked up, and you’re making me so hot.”
“Fuck. You are something else, do you know that?” Wren asked. For a single breath, he looked absolutely devastated, but the expression was gone, and Percy wondered for a moment if he’d just imagined the whole thing. “Now, I like to play games, but more than that, I like to give my partners exactly what they want.”
“Okay,” Percy said, his voice trembling just a little.
Wren’s fingers began to work on the buttons holding Percy’s shirt in place. They popped open one by one by one, and then he pulled the fabric to the sides and immediately thumbed Percy’s nipples. He moaned loudly again, and Wren swung his other leg over his thighs and straddled him.
“We have all night, but it’s not enough time to get complicated,” Wren went on, rubbing harder.
Percy was struggling to listen, lost in the feeling of being touched in ways he’d wanted to be touched for so, so fucking long. “Yes.”
Wren grabbed his chin and gave his head a firm tug, their eyes connecting again. “We’re not going to use safe words, okay? No means no,” he said, pinching two fingers to his thumb. Then, he laid out a flat palm and struck the side of his other hand across it. “Stop means stop.”
Percy used hands, weak with desire, to copy him, and Wren shot him a brilliant smile.
“Perfect,” Wren told him. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but it looks to me like you were serious when you said you wanted me to tell you what to do.”
Percy’s throat was tight, but he managed a nod. “Yes. I was. I do. Please.”
Wren nodded, looking thoughtful as he graced blunt nails up and down the center of his chest. The feeling almost stung—but not quite. The perfect hint of pain that made him want to squirm again. “And you seem to really, really like it when I tell you how good you are.”
Percy pushed up on his elbows when he realized what was happening. His sex had always been vanilla, but his porn wasn’t. He watched things he never wanted to happen to him and some things he did. But he was also still a bit torn up on the inside, and he knew what he couldn’t handle.
“Yes, but…please don’t be mean. I’m a bit torn up inside still, and I’m not sure I could handle it.”
Wren looked sad all over again, and he leaned forward, nuzzling Percy’s nose against his own for a long moment. “Sweetheart, the very last thing in the world I want is to be mean to you.”
For a split second, Percy was too petrified to believe him, but Wren cradled his face with more tenderness than Percy had ever experienced in his life, and his heart began to thud against his ribs hard enough he could feel it through his whole body.
“I—” He started, then stopped. He didn’t really know what to say.
“You’re alright,” Wren told him. “You’re being so good.”
Percy shuddered from the roots of his hair to the bottoms of his feet as he collapsed back against the pillow. The movement pulled him away from Wren’s touch, but the distance didn’t last. Wren’s hands were on him, one hand pressed to the side of his neck where his pulse was thrumming, the other pushing into his hair, holding tight enough to cause zings of pain down his spine.
And shit, he liked it.
He liked it so much.
A moan tumbled from his chest, and his hips started rocking up until Wren pinned him, rocking downward and holding him against the bed with his legs. “Behave, sweetheart.”
Percy swallowed heavily and nodded. “Yeah. Yes. Sorry, I?—”
“And you can stop that,” Wren told him, tracing a touch over his lips. “You don’t need to keep apologizing.”
Percy wasn’t so sure that was true. His life was a disaster, and apart from his ex being an absolute shit, he was pretty sure most of it was his own fault. He didn’t know where he’d gone wrong, or how, but he was a disaster. And he had no idea how to fix it.
“You with me?” Wren asked after a beat.
Percy nodded. “Yeah. Yes. So—” He stopped himself before the rest of the word could form, and Wren kissed him, hard and desperate.
“So good,” he repeated in a whisper. Percy’s hips started to shift again, and Wren laughed. “Don’t worry, and don’t overthink this, gorgeous. I’m going to take care of you. You’re allowed to let go and give yourself to me.”
