The angel gasped, fingers clenching into the soft flesh of his palm as he resisted the urge to hang onto the Spartan the same way he would have Mitchell.
He didn't like the implication that he'd be seeing him again. He didn't want to end up at this vampire's mercy any more than this one night. He didn't fight. He simply let the vampire take what he wanted. His eyes fluttered shut as he let his mind pretend that this was, in fact, Mitchell feeding from him. A low moan of pleasure breezed past his lips. It almost didn't matter that the stranger was so close to the scar he didn't like anyone touching as long as he pretended it was Mitchell.
His hips rocked up, aching for the return of contact just there. His pleasure wasn't his to give, but his Imagination had always been strong.