No, given what Damen could remember of his time before this place, given what he felt even now, he could imagine only a desperate sort of collision. The want for it already simmered under his skin, flaring hotter as Laurent's gaze traveled down the length of his neck, nearly as tangible as Laurent's fingers might be. Or his mouth.

The question Laurent posed cut off that train of thought, though Damen felt weighted by the wine enough to only smirk. 'If that were the case, I'd say you've fucked me already,' he pointed out.

He shifted slightly, extending the arm he had rested against the back of the chaise to graze two fingertips across Laurent's fabric-covered shoulder. It was tentative, still half expecting Laurent's gaze to turn sharp or forbidding. 'I am curious, though. How it happened. Was it I who kissed you?'