Hermes arched with the touch against his chest, eyes fluttering closed. He had the good sense not to point out that a master catering to the whims of a slave was exactly what Carrick did with him most of the time. This, however, all of it, was a line that shouldn't have been crossed not just with him but with his master's partner as well.
He reached down to take his master's hand, gently caressing cool skin like a lover might. He knew better than to point out that Carrick could have given him the day off without going anywhere at all. Hermes knew why he was there and he liked it less and less the more it went on.
"Would you have hunted me half so relentlessly, my lord?" he said quietly, gaze on the hand he toyed with. "It's not my place to be jealous, I know. But you are ancient and powerful, peerless in this city and likely most elsewhere too. I am young and still easily wounded, as any mortal would be who gave their heart to someone who desired another with such single minded focus no matter that it is absolutely your right to do as you will." He brushed a kiss against the back of Carrick's hand, nose lingering pressed just there for a moment.
"You want him to want you and only you," he said even softer, knowing he was crossing a line and not caring about that particular one. "When you are already the world to one slender, clever blond slave." The implication there was clear. Hermes would never be anything more to Carrick than a poor substitute for an angel who would likely never do anything more than pity him.
He licked his lips. "I can hear his grace screaming for him. Have done since we got here and he took up a bow downstairs. It only gets louder when I try to pin myself to your silence, like it knows you're what's standing between it and where it belongs. I have to focus on him instead. It shuts up for that and sometimes I hear things I shouldn't. Usually, it's just background noise but you know how I respond to your voice, Master." Whatever it was Samandriel did or didn't feel about Carrick didn't really matter. The poorly hidden heartbreak rolling off of Hermes was genuine and perhaps Carrick would know it, smell it in the air or somewhat else. Or he'd choose to ignore it which was all the more likely.
"So yes, I'm sulking. I'm wounded and upset and trying to figure out what happens to me if I'm still alive when he finally wears your collar permanently. It's probably just the grace reacting at me again, and I'll shake myself out of it soon enough, but I've never outright lied to you, Master and I've no intention of starting now. Fuck him well. Make him love you. I will be happy that you are happy. Nothing delights me more. Just please don't forget the boy who loved you first."