Alaric held the two pliant royal bodies close, luxuriating in the feeling of their soft, naked skin against his own bare chest. The immediate storm of passion had subsided, leaving behind a landscape of sore muscles, thoroughly marked flesh, and a heavy, lingering sensuality. He had broken them physically, and now, with the convenient (and likely true) news of Thaleon's demise, their primary fear was mitigated, leaving them vulnerable to his next stage of manipulation.
His hands didn't remain idle. One traced the elegant curve of Queen Margaret's spine, dipping lower to knead the plump, red-marked flesh of her buttock. She shivered but leaned into the touch, a low sigh escaping her lips. His other hand gently cupped Josephine's breast, thumb circling the still-sensitive, darkened nipple.
"Now that we understand the situation…" Alaric murmured, his voice a low vibration against Josephine's ear, "…we need to plan our next steps."
