In his state, Marcus can't work out if sex is just better for women -- when it's done right -- or if he feels like this because it's all so strange and new, but whatever the case, he knows he's in good hands. The best hands. The only ones that matter.

He still can't seem to make words. The only sounds that come from him are soft moans of pleasure that don't manage to turn into anything coherent. Not that it matters either. Marcus knows even without his talents, Dan would be able to figure exactly what he wants and how good it all feels.

A part of him thinks he ought to wait, figure out when this body is ready, but he feels ready. He feels impatient, really, especially with Dan's cock rubbing against him like this now and Marcus's fingers curl under, holding tightly to his shoulders.