Carrick's eyes gleamed as Samandriel took the finger into his mouth, sucking it gently. He felt his cock stirring and he shifted slightly, crossing his legs.
The slave's eyes on his were steady and clear, so unlike the rage and hatred he had seen in the first moments of their time together. Something had thawed between them; some kind of wordless settlement appeared to have been reached.
"Your mouth is clearly as talented as the rest of you," he murmured, his low voice silky, his wet fingertip stroking across the full lower lip. "I want you to put it to proper use."