Spoil

The air in the penthouse suite was thick with the scent of expensive sandalwood, sea salt, and the lingering, electric heat of their bodies. Percy’s bedroom was a sanctuary of minimalist luxury, but right now, it was a battlefield of discarded silk sheets and tangled limbs.

Percy leaned over Annabeth, his muscular frame casting a shadow over her smaller, delicate form. His blonde curls were damp with sweat, clinging to his forehead, and his blue eyes—usually so sharp and calculated when he was navigating the corporate world of his father’s empire—were dark with a singular, primal focus. He was a man who excelled at everything he touched, a prodigy in business and life, but his greatest masterpiece was always the way he could make Annabeth feel.

He shifted, his weight pressing her into the plush mattress. Annabeth’s boho knotless braids were fanned out against the white pillows like a crown of dark silk, contrasting beautifully with her warm, brown skin. She looked up at him, her brown eyes hazy and unfocused, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

"Percy," she whimpered, her voice a soft, melodic rasp.

"I’ve got you," he murmured, his voice a low vibration that she felt more than heard.

He moved with a slow, deliberate grace, entering her again with a shallow, teasing thrust that drew a sharp, high-pitched moan from her lips. Annabeth was a moaner; she couldn't help it. Every sensation, every touch, seemed to vibrate through her 5’0 frame until it had to escape as sound.

Percy loved it. He lived for the way she called his name, the way her voice hitched when he hit that perfect spot, and the way she sang for him in the quiet of the night. He increased the pace, his hands sliding down to grip her hips, holding her steady as he drove into her. He wasn't just being thorough; he was being worshipful.

"You’re so beautiful, Annie," he panted, leaning down to press a kiss to the hollow of her throat.

She arched her back, her fingers digging into the muscles of his arms. "More," she begged, her voice rising in pitch. "Percy, please."

He didn't need to be told twice. He shifted his angle, finding that sweet spot with clinical precision and raw passion. Annabeth’s eyes rolled back, and a loud, melodic wail broke from her throat, the sound echoing off the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city skyline. She was a bubbly, sweet girl by day, but in his bed, she was a symphony of desire.

As the tension reached its breaking point, Percy let out a low groan, his body tensing as he found his release, following her into the white-hot blur of climax. He collapsed against her, careful not to crush her smaller frame, his heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.

For several long minutes, the only sound in the room was the synchronized rhythm of their breathing.

Then, the shift began. The "prodigy" in Percy took over—not the cold, calculating businessman, but the man who had spent years studying exactly what his girlfriend needed to feel safe, cherished, and restored.

He pulled back slowly, pressing a tender kiss to her sweaty forehead. "Stay right here," he whispered. "Don't move a muscle, princess."

Annabeth just hummed, her eyes closed, a soft, content smile gracing her lips. She felt like she was floating on a cloud.

Percy slipped out of bed, his tall, 6’0 frame moving across the room with effortless grace. He returned a moment later with a warm, damp washcloth infused with lavender oil. He began to clean her with a gentleness that would have shocked his board of directors. He wiped away the sweat and the remnants of their passion, his touch light and reverent.

"Does that feel okay?" he asked softly, moving the cloth over her thighs.

"Mmm, feels perfect," she murmured, reaching out a hand to blindly find his.

He caught her hand, kissing her knuckles before setting the cloth aside. He disappeared into the en-suite bathroom again, returning this time with a silk robe and a bottle of high-end, cocoa butter moisturizer.

Percy sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her into his lap. Annabeth went willingly, her small body looking even tinier against his broad chest. He began to rub the lotion into her skin, starting with her feet and working his way up. He was meticulous, making sure every inch of her brown skin was hydrated and glowing.

"You're so spoiled," he teased, though his voice was thick with affection.

Annabeth giggled, the sound bubbly and bright, returning to her usual self. "You’re the one who started it. You can't blame me for enjoying the perks of dating a rich boy."

"I’m not a rich boy," he corrected, nipping at her earlobe. "I’m your rich boy. There’s a difference."

He reached for a silk scrunchie on the nightstand and carefully gathered her braids, tying them back so they wouldn't get in her face. He knew how much she spent on her hair, and he treated every braid with the utmost care.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Starving," she admitted, leaning her head back against his shoulder.

Percy reached for his phone on the nightstand. With a few quick taps, he ordered a spread from her favorite late-night bistro—truffle fries, Wagyu sliders, and a decadent chocolate lava cake. Money was never an object when it came to her comfort.

While they waited for the delivery to arrive at the penthouse door, Percy wrapped her in a weighted blanket, tucking the edges around her like a cocoon. He then produced a glass of chilled alkaline water with a slice of lemon, holding it to her lips so she didn't even have to lift her head.

"Drink," he commanded gently. "You lost a lot of fluids with all that screaming."

Annabeth blushed a deep, beautiful shade of rose. "I didn't scream that loud."

"The neighbors in the next building might disagree," he joked, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

He settled in behind her, pulling her back against his chest so they could watch the city lights flickering below. He began to massage her shoulders, his thumbs finding the knots of tension she always carried from her creative projects. Annabeth didn't have a traditional job or school right now; she spent her days painting and designing, living the life of a pampered muse, a role Percy was more than happy to facilitate.

"Percy?" she said after a while, her voice small.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Thank you for taking such good care of me. Not just now, but... always."

Percy stopped his massage for a moment, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and burying his face in the crook of her neck. "There is nothing in this world more important to me than you, Annabeth. I work those hours at the company so I can build a world where you never have to worry about a single thing. You’re my heart."

Annabeth turned in his arms, her brown eyes shiny with unshed tears. She reached up, cupping his face with her small hands. "You’re a genius, you know that? Not just with numbers. With people. With me."

"I just know what I love," he replied simply.

The doorbell chimed, signaling the arrival of their food. Percy let out a mock groan. "Saved by the sliders. I was about to get all sappy."

"I like it when you're sappy," she teased, poking his chest.

Percy stood up, lifting her effortlessly along with him. He carried her over to the velvet chaise lounge by the window, setting her down gently before heading to the door to retrieve the food.

When he returned, he set the tray down and began to feed her small bites of the sliders, making sure she had everything she wanted before he even took a bite for himself. He watched her eat, a sense of profound satisfaction settling in his chest. To the world, Percy was the prodigy, the heir, the shark in the suit. But here, in the quiet of his home, he was simply a man who adored a girl with boho braids and a laugh like music.

After they finished eating, Percy cleared the tray and brought over a small jewelry box he’d hidden in the drawer earlier that day.

Annabeth’s eyes widened. "Percy, no. You already bought me those shoes last week."

"This isn't shoes," he said, opening the box to reveal a delicate gold anklet encrusted with tiny diamonds. "I saw it and thought it would look beautiful against your skin. A little something to remind you that you’re cherished, even when I’m at the office."

He knelt at her feet, fastening the jewelry around her ankle. The diamonds caught the light, shimmering against her brown skin.

Annabeth reached down, pulling him up by his collar until their lips met in a slow, sweet kiss that tasted of chocolate and devotion.

"I love you," she whispered against his lips.

"I love you more," he countered, lifting her once again to carry her back to the bed.

He tucked her under the fresh silk sheets he’d managed to swap out while she was eating, then climbed in beside her. He pulled her close, her back against his chest, his hand resting protectively over her stomach.

"Sleep, Annie," he whispered, his voice the final note in their long night. "I've got the world covered. You just dream."

Annabeth sighed, her body finally relaxing into the deep, heavy sleep of the truly loved. Percy stayed awake for a little longer, watching the rise and fall of her shoulders, already planning exactly how he would spoil her when she woke up in the morning. For a prodigy like Percy, love wasn't just a feeling—it was a series of perfectly executed actions, and he intended to spend the rest of his life perfecting them for her.