He's doing good. He's doing good--he's doing what Liam wants--and Mike tries not to grin. He winds up hiding his face among the fabric, though if Liam asks it's from the pain. This is all he wants--all he needs.

And then Liam said he'd be able to get off. Liam says 'maybe' and Mike's brain skips that part, selectively focusing on what he craves. Liam presses into and against his ass, and there's something about the feel of denim and Liam's erection on those welts that make him have to close his eyes to stop from moaning. Then that cane begins to rub along his length and he allows himself to expel a small hiss of pleasure, nodding slightly as the other speaks. He gets it, but he doesn't want to interrupt, and then Liam is grabbing his dick and rubbing it, and his fingers and the cane and how slowly he stroked causes a moan to escape from Mike's lips.

"I understand," he murmurs, and it's quick and needy and he moans again. "You're so good to me, sir--God." He can barely finish the sentence. He's been worked up since before they even got up the stairs.