[He could drain her and he knows that. He could pull every drop of that delicious hot red into his mouth and leave her an empty husk. Part of him wants to. It is his nature, after all. But he wants to do this again. Wants her to talk about it. Wants more people coming to him with bared necks and wrists and spread thighs. So he curbs that insatiable appetite. He can top off what he needs with the processed bags in the fridge. A few deep swallows and his mouth draws away, though his tongue licks over the dribbling holes, red smeared over his lips, a pleasant haze filling him.]
Mm, better than mother's milk.
[His smile was lazy, his hips moving to let his cock press against her thigh again, a soft sigh leaving him.]
no subject
Mm, better than mother's milk.
[His smile was lazy, his hips moving to let his cock press against her thigh again, a soft sigh leaving him.]