"Legally, outside I do," Samandriel pointed out, but there was something profoundly freeing in not having to wear it. He let out a small noise of relief. It didn't matter that the scar on his throat was more prominently on display. What mattered was that he was as free as he was going to be for whatever future was there for him.
He didn't want to linger in those thoughts, though. He wanted his moment back. His fingers caught in Mitchell's hair and he pulled Mitchell down to kiss him deep and hungry. His vampire. His Master. Whatever they faced, they were going to do it together.
His fingers curled around the other man's length, stroking it in a way he hoped would feel good. Out of his depth, but learning to swim.