Samandriel could feel Carrick's hardness against the side of his head like the vampire was taunting him with it. He was barely aware of the fae moving to get lube, paying attention to him again only when the young man had finished making astoundingly quick work of preparing himself and was slicking up Samandriel's cock.
He couldn't run from this, couldn't even go soft somehow with the cock ring on. The fingers of the other slave's dry hand slid down his chest, drawing his attention lower. He couldn't help but watch as the young man lowered himself onto him, whining low in his throat as he felt warm, impossibly tight warmth surround him ever so slowly.
Samandriel didn't want to be inside anyone, not even now, but he couldn't deny how good it felt.
"Fuck, Master," Hermes moaned, taking a moment to let them both adjust before he started moving. "He feels so good. Thank you."
When the fae started moving, even Samandriel couldn't resign himself to silence and stillness anymore. Soft whimpers turned into little moans, turned into his hands on Hermes' thighs and his head shifting to press his nose against Carrick's still covered cock. The fae was good, too good, too skilled to do anything it seemed but draw Samandriel in and have him moving smoothly with him. Even this was a dance, and the angel couldn't help but participate in it.