At some point, Armand will have to experiment with Daniel's patience. See how long he can linger at the entryway before being invited in, so to speak. Begged in. A touch of that impulse here, but it doesn't last—he wants it too much, and so, as he feels Daniel's fingers wrap around his wrist, as he continues to watch his face, Armand sinks inside of him in a long, patient stroke of movement.

Not quite bottoming out but close, pressing close, enough to satisfy the itch that had wanted so much to feel Daniel pressed around him this way. The alluring resistance of muscle, the appealing way it yields, has to yield. Breath caught.

His hand darts from the base of his cock to Daniel's hip, his thigh, then chest, little careless smears of slickness as he feels him, testing the different points of contact he may wish to grip. Palm smoothing down to his side to settle there, claws dimpling skin.

Doesn't begin to fuck him. Waits, then pushes in deeper, until he is buried. As keyed into the sensation as he is in watching.