A fuller growl hushed against Laurent, full of wordless pleasure at the tug of those fingers, the continuous loop of the only name he ever wanted to hear in those tones from Laurent's mouth. Damen was his. And so, too, was Laurent Damen's. They might have yet to fully consummate their marriage, but in every other way he knew they were already joined.

He could do no less than what he was asked, supplicated even. Damen slowly speared his lover's body with his tongue. He'd never tended so carefully or so thoroughly to this area before; on Laurent, it was pure joy to feel him come apart at the seams with each subsequent lick and lathe. He coaxed Laurent open so sweetly, he might have been a kitten lapping milk that had dripped into a crevice.

Just as slowly, he circled around with the tip of a finger and began, bit by bit, to work it inside in concert with his tongue. The deeper he went, the more he focused on every noise Laurent made, every twitch of his body, as tight heat began to surround his finger, the softer warmth of the rim bathed in the rhythm of Damen's licks.