“If you want something, you’re going to have to learn how to ask for it,” Cantrell said, releasing the end of the collar. He reached towards the charcuterie board and plucked a grape from the bundle. “And until you ask properly, I’m going to enjoy the lovely charcuterie board you put together for me.”
Illias watched with a slightly gaped mouth, reeling from how quick Cantrell could change gears at a blink of an eye. Determined not to waste time by wondering how he was so good at it, Illias decided to play into Cantrell’s little game. Without a word, Illias straddled Cantrell’s lap and grabbed his wrist before he could pop another grape into his mouth. Illias wrapped his lips around the finger and thumb that held the grape, sliding his tongue between the two digits to dislodge it. Cantrell slowly pulled his fingers out of Illias’ mouth and then cupped his cheek, resting the spit slick thumb on his mouth as Illias chewed. Illias swallowed then parted his lips, inviting Cantrell’s thumb back into his mouth.
“Do you like having something in your mouth, pet?” Cantrell murmured.
Illias answered the question by sucking and swirling his tongue around it, mimicking the way he would suck Cantrell’s cock if given the chance. Cantrell pushed his thumb further into Illias’ mouth, pupils blown and eyes dark with want.
“Such a pretty pet,” Cantrell praised. He pulled his thumb from Illias mouth, then gripped his chin, pulling him closer. “My pretty pet,” he whispered against Illias’ lips.
“Yours,” Illias agreed without second thought. “Wholly.” He pressed a quick kiss to Cantrell’s lips. “Utterly.” To his cheek. “Completely.” His jaw. “Yours,” Illias whispered in Cantrell’s ear.
“That’s right, mine,” Cantrell breathed.
Electricity shot down Illias’ spine. He cupped the back of Cantrell’s head, then pressed their foreheads together. “Say it again,” Illias pleaded, wanting, needing to hear it again. Needing to know Cantrell meant it.
“You’re mine. I may not be able to give you—”
“I don’t care,” Illias butted in, nudging their noses together. “All I care about is this. Being with you. Being yours. I just need to know if you feel the same.” He held his breath, waiting for Cantrell’s response.
“I want you more than anything,” Cantrell said, gripping Illias’ hips. “All of you. I want every part of you, even the parts you try to hide.”
“I’ll give you all of me if you give me all of you.” Illias closed his eyes, then tilted his head to the side, letting their lips brush. “Give me all of you, Cantrell.”
“You already have me in my entirety. You only had to ask.” Cantrell caught Illias’ lips in a slow, heat-filled kiss.
Illias poured his soul into the kiss. Put everything he couldn’t say into it. Everything he failed to find the words for. One day he would be honest with himself, with Cantrell. Tell Cantrell what he truly felt. Whisper it against his lips. Repeat it over and over again like a prayer. But tonight, this would be enough. Losing himself completely in the man he would trade eternity for.
Cantrell pulled back, dropping his head to the crook of Illias’ neck.
“Mark me again,” he moaned.
“You know how to get what you want,” Cantrell murmured.
Illias whined. “Please, Father, mark me again. I want everyone to know I belong to you.”
Cantrell groaned into Illias’ neck then bit down, pulling a sharp gasp from him. Illias tried to keep his whines down to avoid getting caught by anyone that might be out by the lake. He knew the likelihood that anyone was at the lake at this time of night was low, but it still added a layer of excitement to the situation. Getting caught while on top of Dunwich’s golden priest sent waves of need through his body. Thick, syrupy arousal pooled in Illias’ abdomen. He tangled his fingers in Cantrell’s hair, tugging gently.
“Please, I want you so badly,” Illias sighed longingly. “I need you.”
“What do you need?” Cantrell asked, nipping at Illias’ neck.
“What I can’t have. You touching me like I’ve dreamt of since the first night we met.” He leaned away so he could look at Cantrell. “Or me touching you instead. Please, Father, let me service you. I promise…” Illias trailed a hand down the back of Cantrell’s neck, across his shoulder, then slipped a finger beneath his necklace while leaning forward so that their lips barely touched. “I’ll be a very good boy for you.”
“You want to be a good boy for me?” Cantrell asked, and though Illias knew it was hypothetical, he nodded. “Then make yourself cum by humping my thigh like the good little pup I know you are.”
A whine caught in Illias’ throat and he dropped his head to Cantrell’s shoulder to hide the dark blush that came to his cheeks from the pet name. “You shouldn’t be allowed to say stuff like that,” Illias grumbled, grinding against Cantrell’s lap.
“Why?” Cantrell’s hand crept underneath Illias’ shirt, wicked fingers finding his piercings and tugging. Illias mewled, arching into the touch. “Does it make you flustered?”
“Sh-shut up,” he protested weakly.
Cantrell toyed with Illias’ piercings, twisting and pulling. Pleasure-laced pain swirled through him, making it increasingly more difficult to control how loud he was. Illias buried his face in Cantrell’s neck to muffle the sound.
“You aren’t used to this, are you? Being denied and made to make yourself cum without touching yourself,” Cantrell mused. “I bet you're used to people giving you whatever you want. But,” he gave a quick, sharp pull to Illias’ piercings, making him whimper, “you’ll learn that being a persistent little brat isn’t how you get what you want.”
“It’s gotten me this far,” Illias panted, trying to sound as coy as he could in spite of how embarrassingly close he was already. Cantrell twisted Illias’ piercing especially hard, pulling a high-pitched whine from him. “Fuck, again, please.”
“Look at you, using your manners,” Cantrell taunted, repeating the same action again. Illias bit down on the junction between Cantrell’s shoulder and neck, muting the cry that ripped from his throat. “Christ,” Cantrell groaned directly in Illias’ ear.
