[BL] Transmigrated as the Villain CEO's Mermaid Secretary

Neville’s eyes went wide in disbelief.

"I told you." Grayson’s lips curved in something that wasn’t quite a smile. "You’re worth waiting for."

"That’s—" Neville replied, uncertain of what to say. "That’s very... reasonable of you."

"Don’t sound so surprised." Grayson leaned forward, but only to press a kiss to Neville’s forehead. The tenderness of the gesture made Neville’s heart stutter even faster than before. "I can be reasonable when it matters."

"Since when?"

"Since you. Since—" Grayson cut himself off, shaking his head. "We can talk about this later. Right now, I need to know something?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean—" Grayson gestured vaguely at his own body, at the obvious evidence of his unfulfilled need. "Can I do anything else, anything other than enter here? I can work within those limits."

Neville blinked. "You’re asking me?"

"I’m asking you to save us both the trouble." The admission came with visible difficulty; each word was dragged out like a confession. "Because I want you too much to trust myself, and you deserve better than being taken by a man who’s not in control."

Oh.

At that moment, a massive bat-like texture of wings came out of Grayson’s back.

"Is that okay?" Grayson asked softly.

Neville was so mesmerized by the massive wings that he nodded blankly. He reached out for the wings to touch, and Grayson kindly let them closer to his bound hands. It had a hard, leathery texture that was smooth and firm to the touch.

A relief flickered on Grayson’s expression. He began untangling Neville’s necktie from his wrists and kissed the red marks left to ease the pain.

"Gray, what are you—"

"I promised," Grayson whispered to his ear and guided him.

His big, long hands were firmly but not roughly turning him over to his stomach, onto his knees. The position left Neville feeling impossibly vulnerable—his face pressed into the pillows, his bound hands awkward beneath him, everything exposed.

"I keep my promises." He murmured against his small back, taking off his shirt, leaving him completely naked and exposed.

His warm breath sent a shiver down Neville’s spine, but Grayson only left a small, fleeting, and tickling kiss on his back to ease the tension. But before he could ask what that meant, he felt something.

Something soft.

Something warm.

Something wet was pressing against his entrance.

His brain took a moment to catch up. Process the information. Translate sensation into comprehension.

That’s his tongue.

Grayson’s tongue was—

"Oh, fuck—"

Grayson’s hands gripped his hips, holding him firmly in place, claws pricking against his skin but never breaking it. Neville’s body was jerking forward as sensation overwhelmed his already oversensitive nerves.

"Gray—!"

The sounds were obscene. Wet, slick noises that made Neville want to bury his face in the pillows and never emerge. But even worse were the sounds escaping his own mouth.

Grayson’s tongue pushed deeper, and Neville’s arms gave out entirely.

"Please," he heard himself beg. He didn’t even know what he was begging for. "Please, please—"

Neville came again with a scream he couldn’t suppress.

"Vee."

Neville made a noise that was supposed to be an acknowledgment but came out as more of a whimper.

"Look at me."

It took monumental effort to turn his head, but he managed it. Grayson had moved to sit beside him on the bed, his expression tight with barely restrained need. The scales had spread further—covering nearly half his torso now, glinting like armor in the dim light.

But his eyes, when they met Neville’s, were surprisingly lucid.

"I’m going to take care of myself," Grayson said. His voice was strained, each word carefully enunciated. "You don’t have to do anything. Just... stay."

Neville blinked. "Stay?"

But he saw Grayson’s member standing at attention, wondering if it would really be enough by doing it by himself. Neville unconsciously licked his lower lip and reached out for Grayson’s member.

"Hm?" Grayson groaned in pleasure at Neville’s hand movements.

"Just—just not penetration." He felt his face heat. "Anything else is... negotiable."

Grayson’s eyes flickered, and he playfully said. "Anything else?"

"Don’t make me repeat it."

"I wouldn’t dream of it." But the smile that curved Grayson’s lips was pure predator, and Neville had approximately half a second to wonder what he’d agreed to before he was being flipped onto his stomach again.

"Grayson!"

"You said anything else," Grayson reminded him, his voice dark with promise. "I’m going to hold you to that."

Neville’s face was pressed into the pillow now.

He couldn’t see what Grayson was doing—could only feel as those large hands mapped the terrain of his back, his hips, lower—

"What are you—"

"Making you feel good." Grayson’s breath was warm against the base of his spine. "Let me make you feel good, Vee."

"You already—I already—"

"Once isn’t enough." The words were a growl, possessive and hungry. "Not nearly enough. I want to watch you fall apart. Want to hear you say my name as you did before, like—"

"Grayson."

"Yes. Exactly like that."

Grayson’s jaw clenched as he moved behind him and positioned himself between his legs. At first, Neville was startled but remembered Grayson’s promise and quickly calmed down. Pleased, Grayson proceeded to move and thrust against his legs.

"I’m—I can’t—" Neville’s voice was wrecked, broken. "Grayson."

A growl of satisfaction vibrated against sensitive flesh, and Neville shattered for the second time that night. Wandering between consciousness and unconsciousness, Neville couldn’t remember how many times or how long this had happened.

Only that he felt Grayson moving beside him.

Grayson’s fingers had found their way to his hair, carding through the hazel-brown strands with a gentleness. The touch was soothing in spite of everything, and Neville found his eyes growing heavy despite his best efforts.

He felt Grayson pressing a light kiss to his temple.

"Rest."

The command was soft, almost tender.

After a long moment, he muttered with his eyes closed, "...You’re cleaning this up."

Grayson chuckled softly. "Of course."

"And you’re not allowed to smirk."

"No promises."

Neville sighed in resignation as he fell asleep. "...bastard."

"I’m sorry."

It was the last thing that he heard Grayson say.