[Charles knows he's in for something special when Erik smiles like that. When he feels the hand go to his throat, he swallows, which only heightens the sensation of the hold against his skin. He goes limp in an instant, easily maneuvered towards the bathroom, where those images fill his mind and oh, heaven help him. He feels his cock twitch and lets out a groan.]

Yes. [It's that same breathless quality before, but this time there's no teasing.] Fuck me until I can't move without feeling you tomorrow. I want to wear your bruises and your fingermarks. I want everyone to look at me like normal while we both know I'm nothing but a slut for your cock.

[Every word is said in his careful, proper accent and it makes Charles' cheeks burn because, up until now, he's found other ways to word his desires. And that particular epithet does something to him. Probably because that's not who he is in every other aspect of his life, but here with Erik, it's different. It's something like trust. He can show him the facets of himself he'd never dared let anyone else see and know that he'll still love him.

And to show he's not kidding, the next image he projects is him, on all fours, biting into a towel as Erik holds both ends and fucks him mercilessly. At least that would be one way to keep me quiet.]