"Not so often as you might think," Gaius says, dropping his head back as his hips jerk once of their own accord, seeking more from those hands. "A legatus-- the life at the top of a legion is often lonely. It had-- been some time since I last had a lover, we before we-- nnnnh. Took up."

He is correct: he relaxes faster than Estinen does, and his hips occasionally move to seek more pressure, more friction. "But don't treat me with kid gloves. I assure you-- I won't break, either."