Samandriel's encounter with Hermes appeared to have rubbed off on the angel, Carrick thought as he watched the slave position himself in a wanton and lovely picture. the boy was so beautiful, so slender and pale. His body was deliciously responsive...
"What do you dream of, slave?" Carrick murmured, his always-quiet voice now thick with renewing desire and the enjoyment of watching the slave pleasure himself. "What do you long for your Master to do to his little slut? Because that's really what you are, isn't it? It's in the way you moaned and writhed under me last night. My perfect little whore."