[ Normally, he might do more to stoke Petrana's pleasure. He might use his hands, kiss her breathlessly, all sorts of clever, articulate things. Hopefully she is having a nice time like this, with this steady pace and the crush of him against her and the occasional open-mouthed kiss on her throat while he breathes in the scent of her loose hair, because it is just about all Marcus can do. He holds his weight on his elbows, his knees, and shudders beneath and above them as they move and breathe together.
And that, in itself, is oddly pleasurable for its own sake.
But he can, at least, set a pace. He can reach back, which he does, clasping Julius' hip, urging him in close and still until they can reset and start again at Marcus' silent dictation, just incrementally more urgent than before. Likely not enough for certain princesses, but something. ]
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And that, in itself, is oddly pleasurable for its own sake.
But he can, at least, set a pace. He can reach back, which he does, clasping Julius' hip, urging him in close and still until they can reset and start again at Marcus' silent dictation, just incrementally more urgent than before. Likely not enough for certain princesses, but something. ]