Carrick was honestly baffled. "What kindness? Refusing you permission to climax any longer would have only have been a torment for me, and not the enjoyable kind." He turned his head for a slow, deep kiss, his voice holding the darkness of centuries of sadism. "I've always held that a face as beautiful as yours is never more lovely than when it's streaming with tears as you beg. But the look on your face when you clung to me as you came was even more beautiful."
His eyebrows raised a little at Samandriel's next words. "We protected Greece from invasion. We lived and died in service of something greater than ourselves. That was something beautiful to us." he turned his head a little to better look into the blue eyes that were soft with feeling. "I know you think me brutal. I am brutal. My entire society was based on strength. There was no room for weakness, or softness. But how many other civilisations do you think equipped a vampire for true immortality? The beatings, the cold, the hunger, the floggings - my body was still mortal and fragile, and it taught me not to fear pain. It hardened me, taught me to survive. And now, I may be the oldest vampire in all the Americas."
Carrick propped himself up on one elbow at the news that Samandriel had been pursued by the gods themselves. His grey eyes widened in shock, and just as quickly were wiped clear of emotion. "Blasphemy. Don't talk that way. I don;t believe it for a second."