Those princely balls, Damen had decided, were made of pure brass. Nobody had voluntarily touched him since he became a beast. Even if Laurent meant it as a show of bravado, it was still his choice.

Damen lowered his head, so that instead of that hand touching the top of his head, his mouth brushed the fine knuckles and bones. "You are not one to fade quietly," was the rumble over them. "Yours would be a shout...or a scream."