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Arthur said nothing. Kept his eyes forward and his face blank. He wasn't going to let whatever Robin said get to him.
'The kind of man who grew up in a whorehouse. The kind who watched his own mother get fucked by the guards of the estate.'
Arthur's jaw tightened behind closed lips.
'This is just another Tuesday for me.'
He told himself that. Tried to make the excuse stick. But deep down, past the chess pieces and the strategy and the carefully arranged mask he wore like skin, he knew. His power was his strength. The Mark, the bonds, the cultivation. All of it was his. But the one thing he would never be able to give his girls was what Leon was giving Amy right now. They might love him. They might choose him every time. But another man could give them a kind of pleasure that Arthur's body simply couldn't match.
That was the trade. That was the price of the Mark.
'Accept it. Use it. Move on.'
And so Arthur watched as Leon shifted his grip, pulling Amy's hips off the desk entirely, holding her small frame aloft. Her weight was supported by nothing but his hands and the cock buried inside her.
Leon pulled her up into his chest, his large hands gripping her ass, fingers sinking deep into the soft flesh. Amy's arms wrapped around his neck, pulling herself in, her legs locking around his waist and clamping tight. She pressed her body flush against his, her bare breasts flattening against his chest, her stomach touching his, and then she kissed him.
Not the careful reluctant kisses from earlier. This one was hungry. Open-mouthed. Her tongue slid against Leon's as they kissed, wet and deep, Amy pulling his face into hers with both hands, her fingers gripping the back of his head. A low moan vibrated between them, swallowed by the kiss, and her hips rolled against him even though he was already buried to the hilt.
She was kissing Leon the way she'd never kissed Arthur.
'...'
Arthur watched it happen. Watched her tongue push past Leon's lips, watched her small hands grip his head like she was afraid he'd pull away, watched her body grind against his like she couldn't get close enough. The sounds she made into the kiss were obscene. Wet. Desperate. The kind of sounds a woman makes when she stops caring who hears.
Robin's hand tightened on his cock. She'd been watching too, and her strokes had slowed. Not teasing anymore. Mesmerized.
"Well, well," Robin murmured, her voice thick and distant, like she was talking to herself more than Arthur. "Look at that. She's not even pretending it's for cultivation anymore."
She wasn't wrong.
Amy broke the kiss. A thin string of saliva stretched between her lips and Leon's before it snapped. She was panting, her face flushed scarlet, her eyes glazed and half-lidded. She looked drunk. Ruined. And she looked like she wanted more.
"Don't stop," Amy whispered against Leon's mouth. Her hips ground down on him, her pussy clenching around his shaft, trying to pull him deeper. "Please don't stop."
Leon didn't answer. He gripped her ass tighter, spread her cheeks, and started to thrust upward into her while holding her in the air. Hard. Each stroke lifting Amy's small body an inch before gravity and his hands pulled her back down onto the full length of him.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
Amy's screams came back. Louder than before. Her breasts bounced between their bodies, the soft flesh smacking against Leon's chest on every downstroke. The tail plug shifted between her spread cheeks, the white tuft bobbing wildly, the base pressing deeper with each thrust. Her legs shook around his waist, her toes curling, her ankles crossing behind his back as she held on.
"AH— AH— OH GOD— AH—"
"Harder—!" Amy's voice cracked, every scrap of shame long gone. "Right there, right there—"
Leon drove into her, jaw clenched, breath hissing ragged through his teeth. He was close. Arthur could read it in the way his rhythm started to come apart, in the cord of muscle standing out along his neck.
pat, pat, pat
Amy felt it too; she felt him swell and twitch inside her; her whole body answered, clamping down around him, dragging him deeper.
"Come inside me—" The words spilled out of her, frantic, drunk on it. "Come inside me, fill me up with your hot, sticky stuff, give me all of it—"
She sounded like a girl with nothing left between her and the pleasure, lost in it, gone.
And all the while Robin's hand stayed wrapped around Arthur's cock, working him in long, steady pulls. Her pace climbed with theirs — matched the slap of skin across the room, stroke for thrust.
'There it is.'
Through the Mark, Amy's pleasure poured straight into him. He felt every spike of it funnel up the channel and flood his chest, warmth deepening with each pull of Robin's hand, the glow under his shirt brightening past anything his face would admit to.
"You like that, don't you, child." Robin's voice dropped low against his ear, warm and certain. "Leon's about to fill that girl of yours right up and look at you." Her thumb circled his leaking tip. "Twitching in my hand. About to blow up like a volcano."
Precum coated his whole shaft now, slicking Robin's fingers, her palm glistening with it as she pumped.
Arthur gritted his teeth. Held the line against the surge climbing the Mark.
"I'm gonna—!"
Amy's voice tore through the room and cut his thoughts clean off, a flood of her pleasure rolling up the channel and breaking over him all at once.
She came.
Squirted, drenching Leon, her back bowing off the desk and Leon couldn't hold either, slamming as deep as he could go, his cock hitting her womb hard enough to see it. A bulge pressed against her flat stomach. Then it grew, swelling as he emptied himself, copious and thick, a little rounding rising on her belly where there'd been nothing.
Her whole body seized. Legs shaking, toes curling, a tide of essence rushing down the Mark and filling it to the brim in an instant.
On her inner thigh the climax counter ticked.
Once. Twice. Three times — three climaxes crammed into a single heartbeat.
Flooding through the mark Arthur felt a surge overrun him as Amy's pleasure ran through him.
spurt, spurt, spurt
Ropes of his release tore free, drenching Robin's hand, the rest landing across his own lap. Every breath in the room came hot and labored.
Every breath but one.
Robin smiled, licked her lips, and bent down over him and cleaned his cock with her mouth, slow, taking up every last drop he'd spilled.
"Delicious."