Re: Holding Pens - Hermes and Carrick
Carrick's cool fingers ran over Hermes' chest again, circling one nipple, stroking and caressing until it hardened. He watched the slave's face, gauging the responsiveness of his body. His other hand slipped around Hermes' back, running down to cup the firm backside and draw Hermes' hips close to his own.
"You read the girl's thoughts, didn't you? " he asked. That's how you knew my name. I've herd of faeries who can do that. There were stories all over Ireland - I lived there for a lot of the last century. Hence my accent." As he talked, he continued to caress Hermes' backside, feeling how smooth and tight were his muscles.
Simply to touch him was not enough. He needed to see more.
Carrick stepped back. "Strip. I want to look at you."
He would look, but do nothing further, he promised himself. He did not want to taste the boy here - such a delicacy should be saved for the proper moment.