If he had to choose a way to go, he thinks something like this would be nice. Julia's fingertips press hard into his temples and his cheek, his grip tight with promise. He's radiant tonight, Ruggieri thinks, in what remains of his evening wear. The glittering gown lies abandoned on the floor with his stockings, shrug, and shoes. The sheer lace slip gathers around his hips as he sits with his legs braced astride Ruggieri's waist. There's a dark spot spreading across the front of Julia's panties as he rolls his hips -- or at least, Ruggieri thinks there is. It could be his imagination getting carried away.
He aches to touch him. But there are rules to this, and if he breaks them Julia will leave him in the cold.
It's so warm between Julia's legs. And Julia's palms are electric-hot as they lie flat against his neck. As his hands wrap around Ruggieri's throat. Ruggieri feels a surge of need for him, so thrilling in his veins. He'd love nothing more than to let Julia take his fill of him. He'd love nothing more than let Julia roll against his arousal and claim what's his. As Julia's hands tighten about his throat, he sighs. Ah, such bliss, to feel Julia's love through every inch of his body, in the heat of Julia's blood thrumming hot between them and in Ruggieri's sluggish, pounding pulse. Julia releases him just as his vision has begun to swim.
"Kiss me?" Ruggieri thinks he says. His senses are dull with the pleasure of it all. He may be slurring. Julia doesn't appear to hear him, for instead he begins to unfasten Ruggieri's belt. He's inside of Julia by the next time Julia's grasp begins to constrict his throat, nearly smothered by Julia's desire.
All in all, it'd be a good way to go.