The dawn found Lord Carrick sitting in one of the room's easy chairs by the window. Samandriel was still sleeping deeply, no doubt exhausted by the hours he had spent pleasuring the vampire the previous night.
Carrick could still hear the gasps, the moans of anguish and delight as he let his lips wander over Samandriel's body, the tiny shivers as his fangs broke through soft flesh over and over again. He had not fed deeply from the boy; he'd taken only sips here and there, enough to tease and deliciously torment the slave.
The vampire had taken a short walk when he'd finally allowed Samandriel to sleep, first to call in on Hermes only to find him in a deep and blissful sleep, sprawled across the big bed.
On the bedside table was an appointment card - it seemed his favourite slave had booked himself into the hotel's spa the next day for just about treatment going. Carrick considered waking him up but relented; it wasn't often that Hermes was able to sleep a full and uninterrupted night of sleep. Such were the perils of being a vampire's favourite pleasure slave, he thought.
After a prowl around the hotel and its grounds, Carrick returned to the suite and napped briefly next to Samandriel before rising and dressing once more. Since Russell had bought him the daywalking amulet, he 'd taken to watching the sunrise.
He wondered how Russel would feel about the bargain he had struck with Samandriel. It was likely to be somewhere between bitter disappointment and raging fury... which was exactly why Carrick had no intention of telling him.