"Yes," he moaned, voice tight as the Spartan's words destroyed the fantasy he had going. He didn't stop his hips from moving, though. His body betrayed him even more than it had been before. He could feel that hardness against his thigh, and god help him but he could imagine all too well what it would feel like. The vampire's fingers were too slow, too lose. He whimpered, needing more than he could ever be okay with allowing himself to have. "Yes, my lord Spartan." He still didn't have a name for this vampire, this Master who wasn't his.
"Please..." He didn't know what the end of the sentence was, if he wanted him to stop or to give in to the touches that felt good no matter how wrong they were.