For Lovely Anon who wanted biting!
"I’m going to give you a bruise," Thomas said, in a more or less conversational fashion. He glanced up at Philip through his lashes and grinned, cocking his head.
"So you can think of me," he informed, placing a glancing sort of kiss on Philip’s mouth before trailing down his body. "Somewhere your valet can’t see. Here, I think," he hummed into Philip’s belly, touching his fingertips to the soft skin between Philip’s thighs.
Philip mostly wanted a kiss - he doubted he had every tasted anything so lovely as Thomas’s lips, but the way they covered him and seemed to wrap him in lust - that, too, was a wonder. It was a sensation better than almost anything to which he could compare - and if Thomas wanted to leave him a reminder (though, god, how could he ever forget?), Philip would let him. Philip would beg him.
Thomas pressed his lips to the curve of his cock, the jut of his hip - around and down, spreading his thighs and leaving him wonderfully exposed. Philip’s fingers ran through Thomas’s hair, stroking circles onto his scalp as Thomas tongued the soft skin - sucked it into his mouth, drew on it with his teeth.
The pain was hardly bearable - so sharp and strange, like nothing Philip could remember having experienced. Particularly twisted as it was with pleasure - Thomas’s hand pressed firmly against his prick and Thomas’s voice vibrating desire, humming against him.
"There," he murmured, resting his cheek against Philip’s thigh. He smiled a lascivious little smile and pressed his kiss against Philip’s hip, following it down to his cock.
"I’ll think of you. God," he groaned, his back arching, "god, Thomas, I always think of you."