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Summary
“Damianos.”
Damen looked up. Laurent’s gaze was level, and very blue.
“Broadly,” Laurent said, “is it the pain? Or the being told what to do?”
And suddenly Damen was finding it very hard to breathe. Laurent simply waited him out, his gaze fixed on Damen’s face. Damen couldn’t help remembering Nik’s description from last weekend. High alert.
“Both,” he said finally. Laurent gave a short nod, like he was filing that away. “And…”
“And what?”
Damen licked his lips. “And you, I think.”
This time the wash of pink over Laurent’s cheeks was unmistakable. Damen reveled in it, even as he fought the urge to squirm at his own confession.
“Noted,” Laurent said, very evenly.