"Yes, Erastes," Samandriel panted, unable to hold himself up when Carrick freed him, barely able to get his arms over the ancient vampire's shoulders to hang on a little as he was moved. It seemed like no time at all between finding himself with his feet barely on the ground and his arms twitching as blood returned to where it was supposed to be and he worked to get them back under his control. Less time from that to Carrick taking him relentlessly.
He could feel himself tearing at his entrance, possibly deeper. He didn't care. He practically screamed as the vampire took him, lacking enough control of his own body to do anything but take it, but move where Carrick pushed him. "Such a whore for you, Master," he gasped when he had a moment, "Little whore for your cock, promise. Fuck, gods."