The Wardens of old and all the training they had passed down were owed thanks for the fact Davrin didn't just rip the shirt open then and there. Between hands on his own skin and that voice, it was still a near thing. But Lucanis had held back, damn right he could too.

"You," he spoke against Lucanis' skin as he moved down and over, to the other side of his neck, "could make a good dog break his leash."

He bit down to punctuate the statement, harder than before. No where near enough to break skin, but enough to leave a mark if left to it. Undeniably possessive.

With some of the burning in his blood redirected, his fingers finally moved at a reasonable pace, rapidly undoing the remaining buttons.