Carrick's eyes were far away. "I never knew my father. He was human, obviously. A slave soldier, he died out on campaign before I was born. I think that's what happened; I might be wrong. I don't remember any of it."
Carrick knew that Hermes loved him. It was in every look the slave gave him, every fervent kiss and hopeful caress. He cared for the boy, of course, the slave lit up his evenings and brought him the kind of delight he had not known from a slave boy for years.. but love? He didn't know. Carrick hardly knew what it was to love a slave. Was it truly love he felt for Hermes? He supposed it must be.
The vampire's eyes closed again. and ligke a man in dream, he let himself be eased backwards, settling against the soft pillows. He lifted his hands and cupped Samandriel's face as the kiss lasted on.
He pressed his forehead against Samandriel's own, looking into those ancient, soft blue eyes.
The angel's desires were clear, but the vampire was hesitant.
"You remember how it was back then," he said softly, his voice thick. "Supernaturals were not meant to be taken, penetrated. It was... weak."