He could feel Laurent deliberately offering up himself, in spite of the way he watched Damen like a hawk. Such trust was a precious thing. Damen was more aware, now, of just how precious.

He plucked at the laces, but instead of simply turning to the other sleeve when the first one was loosened, Damen slid the silky fabric up. Pale skin seemed to gleam more suggestively from the billows of the sleeve than it had when Laurent was disrobed. He cradled his lover's wrist in one hand, raised it to his lips, let his breath trace over the pulse at the base of thumb and hand. It beat a vulnerable rhythm, full of life and heat. Damen kissed its thrumming stream beneath the delicate skin.