He felt so good, just being filled, covered, pressed into the mattress by his weight. When he began to move it was almost too much. His thighs shook and he bucked against him, he wanted him deeper, more. He cried out and then thrust his head up to kiss along his shoulder, something to keep him from being too loud. Mewling and moans as he moved with him. His arms moved, one snaked around his back and tightened around him. He moved a hand to press his head to the side. He was panting, breathe hard in his chest. He lowered his mouth to his neck, kissed there, licked at the pulse, "Forgive me." Closing his eyes he let fangs descend and bit. The first rush of blood was hot and danced on his tongue. Instinct closed his throat, he did not feed! He swallowed once, twice, and the pressure eased, he felt the warmth the power run down his throat, spread through his chest and he moaned, arm like a vice around him. The images would come, they would flood and overwhelm soon, for now he just felt, warm and strong and hungry for him.
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tao_) wrote,