I like you in my shirts. [Matter of fact, because why lie? He likes Danny in everything, true (or, more often, nothing) but there's something deeply satisfying about him in nothing but one of Corry’s crisp button-downs, slipping down over a shoulder, open in the front. Corry is well-aware of his own possessive nature, and he's been fairly successful thus far in keeping it at bay.

Danny makes that a daily struggle, though. Corry suddenly wants to put his mark all over this beautiful, cocky, bright young thing, physical and emotional and metaphorical and literal. That's not something he's used to, and it rattles him a little.

Especially when Danny looks so sweet and breathless while talking about kink, of all things. Corry has a mental wish list a mile long of all the things he'd like to try with Danny, and the idea that he'd be open to any of them is...sort of addictive.

Leaning up to press his lips to the line of Danny's jaw -- one of his favorite spots, that and where his jaw and neck meet -- Corry feigns a thoughtful look, like he isn't noticeably hard just from having Danny in his lap.] There are lots of options. I could edge you -- not let you come right away, but get you riiight there over and over. Or I could make you come again and again, in a row.

[Fingers curling just a bit tighter into Danny's perfect, plush ass, he adds in a voice just above a growl:] If you're really bad, I might want to smack your pretty ass red. Turn you over my lap and everything. What would you think about that, my darling?