For the few spare moments where he can still think, Daniel's grateful his mouth is full, and then his throat, and then he can't say any of the babbling thoughts that would come out as sheer fucking nonsense. He can give a punched-out sob or two, raising his eyes to Armand's.

And then thought leaves him entirely. He grips Armand's thighs to keep himself steady, and he lets the words flow over him as Armand fucks his mouth, lets his whole body speak in loud agreement. He is Armand's, body and soul.

God, he's missed it.