If he thought that things were perfect before, they were absolutely fantastic now. Percy couldn't think, no coherent thought went through his mind. It was all want and need and now. When Cass said the words, he didn't question them, and came painting Cass' hand and his stomach with come.
He shook through the aftermath, before slumping against the mattress, watching Cass, the expression of pleasure so familiar now. "Perfect," he murmured.