His screams came muffled almost mute. But the bite grew harder, more desperate, drawing more blood than he could swallow. Dimitri saw it trickle down the other’s back. Almost frantic was he knowing that something was escaping his hungry mouth. It was hard for him to describe the taste that spread over his tongue thickly. But the vampire knew he wanted more. Perhaps it was his hunger or perhaps it was the fact the krushnik’s blood was the most addictive substance for a child of the night to savor. Dimitri was losing his mind, torn between the exotic taste of the other’s blood and the invading sensation of the other male thrusting into him. He had no idea if he was crying out in pain or ecstatic pleasure.
Eyes closed against the blurriness of lights and shadows. His grip tightened on Leopold, afraid to fall into nothingness. Dimly the vampire mused that his master would not spare him, not that he minded all too terribly. After all, Dimitri could swear that the taste of krushnik’s blood was worth the rough treatment. But he couldn’t hold on to the other’s neck for long. Eventually his limbs would go limp, his grip would slacken and his back would touch the covers of the bed. But for now, he was arching against the other man, hating the feel of the warm body yet moaning in undeniable pleasure. “Harder,” he groaned into the other’s neck.
Eyes closed against the blurriness of lights and shadows. His grip tightened on Leopold, afraid to fall into nothingness. Dimly the vampire mused that his master would not spare him, not that he minded all too terribly. After all, Dimitri could swear that the taste of krushnik’s blood was worth the rough treatment. But he couldn’t hold on to the other’s neck for long. Eventually his limbs would go limp, his grip would slacken and his back would touch the covers of the bed. But for now, he was arching against the other man, hating the feel of the warm body yet moaning in undeniable pleasure. “Harder,” he groaned into the other’s neck.