Joe’s lips were tighter around his dick, his movement was swifter and even more exquisite, and under normal circumstances he would have had Percy on a hair trigger by now.

But what did God’s cum taste like? Better than his?

He couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Darling.” He lifted Joe from his dick, his bewildered, slightly panicked eyes at having been thus torn away from the object of his desire, adding a spark of regret to Percy’s uncontrollable jealousy. He soon extinguished it by leaning forward to meet the lips he turned up. “How much do you love me?”

Brief enamoured confusion swept over the handsome brow. “More than anything.”

“That’s what I thought.” Percy stood, Joe’s chin still in hand, pulling him to standing with him. He slid a palm behind Joe’s belt and grabbed a hold of his dick, just as Joe took his in hand. Percy worked at the belt with his other hand, their lips pressed together, then Percy turned Joe, who backed away easily enough towards the bed, which was not at all where Percy wanted him.

A quick shift in a new direction, and Joe found himself spun around, tripping with one shove from Percy to land in the soft, cool confines of the window seat. His back was against the glass with a firm press of Percy’s hand, and Percy had Joe’s dick in his mouth a second later. Immediate, scalding, fast, it was enough to make him come within seconds, but Percy pulled back when he felt the familiar sensation of Joe’s orgasm on the way, and Joe caught himself, right on the edge, in unprecedented confusion. “What are you doing?”

Percy’s mouth again, deliberate and fast and hot for perhaps a minute, and Joe so close, and then gone again. “Percy!”

Percy was up, Joe was up, and Joe was turned and thrown against the glass, smooth and icy against his burning hands and cheek. Percy, always prepared somehow, had lube from god only knew where, kisses on Joe’s shoulder, and a hand on Joe’s cock. Joe’s cock, wild and erect, displayed for anyone who should happen to walk past the inn at that moment, being worked by Percy’s devilish hands as his ass was invaded by the most divine dick known to man.

“We can’t do this here,” Joe managed to whisper as he felt the first welcome inch of Percy.

“Why not?” Percy sighed against his ear. “Are you worried someone’s going to see?” Because there was no one. The pub wouldn’t open for hours. They were surrounded by wild nothingness, only sheep and green hills and all the low grey sky and Joe being fucked up against the vaulted window of his sumptuous bedroom. No people there to witness the way Joe’s hips bucked back against Percy, the way his body pleaded for more, the smooth strokes that Joe loved and indulged in and tried to deny, so he, maybe, could return the favour for Percy. No people to comment on or notice the compelling sight of a naked adonis defiling a priest in the window.

But Percy wasn’t looking for people.

His dark, cool, jealous eyes fell on the huge black cross of the church across the way—the only building in sight—the only witness, other than Joe, of his physical and spiritual supremacy. “Who do you love?”

“You, Percy,” Joe gasped out as Percy drove into him, fingers deep in his hair, teeth in the skin of his neck, that hand running over his dick as if it were his own.

“Me, and who else?”

“Nobody,” Joe groaned, half in perplexity, half in ecstasy. “Only you.”

Percy held Joe’s hand to the glass, fingers entwined with his, his other forearm guiding the movement of Joe’s hips, fucking him harder and harder, and always, always those relentless fingers fucking his dick at the same time.

“I’m not going to last much longer,” Joe rasped.

He needn’t have. Percy knew it for a fact because he knew Joe’s orgasms as well as he knew his own. He knew exactly how desperate he was, how needy he was, and how much power he had over Joe when he stopped, halted the movement of hisfingers, his thumb pressing on Joe’s slit, the very tip of his own dick hard up against Joe’s sweet spot, when he said, “Then who’s your god now?”

“What?” A flooring clarity hit Joe as he turned his head, and saw Percy’s molten gaze aimed straight out and across the barren landscape, directed with burning hatred at the church on the hill. “Percy?—”

Percy took a firm hand to Joe’s shoulder and slammed his dick in hard. “Who?”

Wrong.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

So wrong.

But fuck, it was hot.

Percy’s jealousy, Percy’s love for him, Percy swiping his thumb across the top of Joe’s cum-laden dick and doubling down on the cruel bliss of his command over Joe’s pleasure. “Percy?—”

“Say it,” he hissed against the shell of Joe’s ear.

Joe’s head was wrenched back against Percy’s shoulder, a bruising kiss delivered to his parched lips, and a dick shoved so deep into him he fleetingly decided that reports of the torturous nature of death by impaling had been grossly overstated. He could no longer hold back the flow of desperately loving words that broke free. “It’s you. Percy, it’s you.”

Percy pulled back and sank his dick deep again. “Who?”

“Percy, it’s you,” Joe all but begged, the unrelenting beat of Percy’s hand almost choking his pulsing cock. “It’s you. I love you so much. You’re my god now. It’s you Percy. Percy—” A silent scream of pleasure cut the words from his mouth. Long ribbons of cum painted the window, obliterated the church from view, drew a whimper from Joe and doubled him over until he could barely support himself with the intensity of his full body orgasm. Percy, meanwhile, redirected the stream of Joe’s cock,coating his religious garments in his own spunk, which Percy ran his hand through, smearing it all over his shirt, his collar, his neck, then, satisfied, he really let loose. He took a hold of both hips and fucked Joe just as hard as his pride demanded, his heart aglow at being the chosen one—at beingeverythingto Joe.