Lured, Armand takes that hand. Doesn't resettle in Daniel's lap again, maybe to be contrary, or not too predictable. Stays close, stays intimate, shifting around behind him, to comfortably drape his arms over his shoulders, smooth hands down his chest. Knows there would have been the chance he'd deny himself if Daniel hadn't beckoned. Knows there are times when this feels like performance.

Content, tonight, to simply do as he wants. Within reason. For instance, he could play with their prey's mind like a cat with a yarn ball, but instead he says,

"Would a bad trip transfer, do you think, during the blood drinking?"

Less in the tone that he actively desires to fuck with their meal so much as speculative, and a little assumptive that Daniel will be informed on the topic.