Tilting his head slightly and inching closer, Marcus kept a hand on the boy's hip, while the other started lightly exploring the young man's bare chest. Feather-light touches, fingers drifting over the soft skin and up and down the peaks and valleys of the boy's abdominals and pecs. "That's a nice name...Peter." Marcus' voice was a low baritone, and his dark eyes roamed over the prize he was eager to unwrap and taste.<br/><br/>He noticed Peter's eyes flicking from side to side and up and down, and always they returned to the heavy shaft that protruded from Marcus' groin. "I'm Marcus, Peter." He murmured, as a finger brushed slowly over a nipple, and Marcus watched as it tightened and stood at attention. "Don't be nervous, Peter. You can look at me...you can touch me." The hand that brushed the nipple slid upwards, across the boy's collarbone, one finger tracing the dip in the middle. "I know you want to, so go ahead...touch me." Although it sounded like a request, in truth it was a command. Marcus was interested in seeing how the boy reacted.