"Don't worry about that," he said in a guttural voice.
He was aroused, she thought.
"No'One, come on - meet my eyes. Don't look down there. "
The temperature in the room shot up even higher, to the point where she considered taking off her robing. And abruptly, as if he could read her mind, his pelvis rolled in an arch that was. . . sensuous.
"Oh, fuck - No'One, you gotta not go there. "
A strange anticipation threaded through her veins, making her head buzz and her stomach feel vaguely sick. And yet she had no cognition of not feeding him; if anything, she wanted his mouth on her even more.
With that thought, she brought her wrist up and over his lips.
His hiss was quick, the bite was fast, the pain sweet as the prick of a hundred tiny needles. And then. . . he was sucking, his warm, wet mouth fitting a seal against her flesh and pulling at her rhythmically -
He moaned. Deep in his throat, he moaned in pleasure, and as he did, her heart jumped in her chest and then beat even faster. More of that heat, insidious and suffusing, bloomed on the underside of her skin, her mind growing woolly and her body getting languid.
As if Tohrment sensed the changed in her, he moaned again, his head craning, his chest rising, his eyes rolling back into his head. And then he began making mewing noises, the supplication fitting not at all with his tremendous size, the plaintive sounds rising repeatedly up from his throat, alternating with his swallows.
With the lights on, and her arm her own to retract, her panic flared only briefly, before being dismissed wholly. There was just too much of Tohrment in this for her to mistake him for anyone else, and the well-lit room they were in had nothing in common with that root cellar: All was bright and clean, and this male at her vein. . . was very much vampire and nothing even remotely symphath.
The more at ease she grew, the more aware she became.
His hips were moving all the while now.
Under the sheeting she would soon be washing, beneath the cup of what was now both of his palms, his pelvis was gyrating. And every time it did, his abdominals tightened and his torso arched. . . and those noises grew a little louder.
He was deeply aroused.
Even terribly injured, his body was ready for mating - desperate for it, if the way he moved was any indication. . . .
At first, she didn't understand the tingling that came over her, numbing her up and hypersensitizing her at the same time. Mayhap it was the fact that she had given him two feedings in less than a day. . . But no. As Tohrment's hands tightened anew at the front of his hips, as he gripped himself even harder through the sheeting, it was clear his sex had cried out for attention and he had been forced to give it some -
The sparkling returned even more keenly as she realized he was rubbing himself.
No'One's own lips parted as breathing became difficult, and under her robing, the warmth cranked up even higher and focused in her lower gut.
Dearest Virgin Scribe, she was. . . aroused. For the first time in her life.
As if he could read her mind, his eyes shot to hers. Confusion was in them. And an eerie darkness that seemed to be near to fear. But there was also more of that heat, so much more. . .
Whilst she met his glowing stare, one of his hands unlatched from down below and traveled up his chest. When he touched her forearm, it was not to keep her in place or restrain her, but to stroke her flesh softly, slowly.
Breathing became impossible.
And she did not care.
His fingers running lightly over her skin were intoxicating, drawing her closer to this flame that she could not see. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to fly far away from any worries or preoccupations, until she knew nothing but the sensations in her body.
Indeed, as she fed him, she was fed herself, a part of her innermost soul nourished for the first time. . . .
Eventually she heard licking and realized he was done.
She wanted to tell him to continue.
To beg him, was more like it.
Raising heavy lids, she could not focus her eyes, and that seemed only appropriate. The world was fuzzy and so was she. . . boneless and fuzzy, with honey in her veins and cotton batting in her brain.