That kiss sends a warm little thrill of pleasure sparking across Laertes's skin; he gets his knees under him so that he can sit astride Lancelot's lap, and he fists his hand in Lancelot's hair to force his head back. "Let me taste every part of thee," he says, leaning in to repay that kiss in kind. His teeth just barely graze Lancelot's skin. "Hold nothing back. Take all that thou wouldst have."