Damen was beginning to grow addicted to the sound of his name falling from Laurent's lips. Each sweet cry thrilled him to the core, more beautiful than any music Laurent could have sung. He hummed his approval of it. The vibrations were trapped between Laurent's skin and Damen's mouth, feeding back to his lips in a full circle.

He sought out more cries, more agonized utterances of his name. This was how he'd dreamed of Laurent being for him: like molten gold, poured over the sheets and rippling in abject pleasure under Damen's body. There was no better reward for his patience than this.

Softly, he lapped and delved, mapping out each intricacy of the treasure he sought. The tip of his tongue quested delicately, a slippery warm silky thing insinuating slowly deeper.