He would take his time. Not slow and teasing like in the forest, but careful, moving with conscious intent over raw passion for the moment. Davrin slid his hands over the ridges of his hips, lightly holding him in place as he softly nuzzled his stomach and fully positioned himself at the end of the bed. He was forcefully not thinking of Spite, or possibly running commentary from the demon. Lucanis was in the here and now, Davrin was as well as he held the other man's gaze.

Thumbs continued to gently stroke at his hips as Davrin, finally, ran the very tip of his tongue along Lucanis' length, from root to tip and released a slow, warm breath at the head.

"What do you want?"