[ Oh he does. Reminders for the both of them when things will inevitably pull them in opposite directions. It's nice to know he'll still be thought of after the fact...every time Dorian's leg brushes against something, for example.

Bull chuckles, nipping sharply at the freshly bruise welling to the surface. ]

That too. Mostly I like hearing you when I'm laying them on you. Like you can't decide if you want more, or if it's too much.

[ And, as if to prove his point, he sets the blunt edge of his nails against tender skin, drawing down, down, until the scratch slides right over that new love bite. ]

Course, there's a part of you that likes the rough handling, isn't there?