Never in James’ life did he think he’d be in this position. Much less in his bedroom on a sunny summer afternoon; the linen curtains blocked out most of the direct sunlight, the open widow made it move every now and then. His bedsheets were messy, pillows on both ends of the bed, and the thin blanket on the ground. The Spider-Man comics he had been reading were abandoned on his bedside table.

Now, James found himself in a most delightful position – one you’d said he should try, as a joke. And James had taken it seriously.

Both of his knees were on the hardwood floor. His hands were on your thighs. And he was looking up at you, admiration and mischief sparkling in his hazel eyes.

Merlin, he was enjoying this. The power dynamic. Your hand in his curls, making sure he was looking up. And he loved it.

“You look gorgeous from here, love,” he grinned, his thumbs gently moving over the back your thighs.