Dorian had wore a darker button-up, so he had no undershirt on it. The skin under it was smooth and unscared outside of his sire bite. The only scare Dorian Carver had from his mortal life was a gash on his lower back. He feel off a horse onto a rock at 18. He was lucky to have not hurt himself worse, or get infection.

That arrogant smile would get him everywhere. Once the shirt of Angels was opened he leaned in pressing his lips to Angel's collarbone and kissing through that area, e even dared rake his fangs across the skin with calcuated care. He wanted Angel like nothing else. He had only raised an eyebrow at the changed face. He wasn't put off but curious, not curious enough to stop his work.