"Beg your pardon?" his voice sounded strained, like he had taken a punch to the stomach.
"You could..." she closed her eyes, braving up a bit to look him in the eye, "You could feed off of me. Then if we could see how you felt...after."
His hand went to one side of her face, and she watched as he clenched his jaw, "You have no idea how much your offer appeals to me, darling. You've been so accepting of me, despite me having kidnapped you, and pretty much forced myself on you this whole time. I know it's a bit late, but I'm going to do right by you."
"Michael, you can't just starve yourself." She protesting, trying to conceal how much the idea frightened her.
"And you are not going become my dinner." He promised, more to himself than to her.
Her hand came between them, shyly coming to rest atop of his cock. She gave it a little squeeze, causing him to groan her name.
She did it again, making him rest his forehead onto hers, "Mia...we have to stop."
Picking up the pieces originally spun by desire, she sought to push him. 'I can't let him starve himself. If what he says is true...' bringing her lips to his in a first gentle, then more forceful kiss. She gave his cock another squeeze through the denim, causing his moans to spill into her mouth. When it ended, he took his teeth, and nipped her lower lip. Just as he began to release it, a quick gasp escaped her throat.
Dazed, she opened her eyes to find his on her mouth, her lips. A stinging to her lower lip still held its presence, and when she swiped her tongue over the spot, she realized why. His teeth had drawn blood. Though this hadn't been the original plan to keep him from going hungry, it presented itself as a most welcomed opening.
It was like seeing her bleed had frozen him. She watched as his blue eyes, already darkened with desire, went to all pupil, and his jaw clench. To reassure him, she found herself smiling, and moved her hands to cup his face. But as she drew closer, her sentence and movement was cut short. "Michael, it's okay, I'm—"
He leaned back a fraction, so she went in for the kill, "You need to feed Michael. I know you're fighting this because you want to protect me, but don't you realize if we get attacked again tonight, you won't be able to?"
She made an attempt to hold his face in her hands again, this time he let her. He looked away from her lip, down to his feet, "If I take your blood, I could never forgive myself."
"You won't be taking it," she pointed out, "I'm offering, and giving myself to you. As much as it takes."
She felt the droplet of blood that had formed on her torn lip, slid down, and staining a line down her chin. His hand came up, inching its way ever so slowly towards her face. Once it became planted on her face, his thumb hovered beside her wounded mouth.
"If I do this, there will be no turning back. I will know how you taste, always have that part of you with me." His eyes were locked on her lips, another type of hunger filling his eyes. "And if something happens...I don't want... to hurt you."
"I trust you." She wasn't sure what he meant by hurting her, whether or not he meant purely when he bit hurt or something else down the line. But she knew as crazy as it was, she meant the words she spoke. Knew deep in her bones that even if something went wrong, she would still feel like this was the right thing to do.
She watched intently as his jaw clenched again, and he swallowed, following his lips parting as if his mouth had suddenly gone dry.
"Alright," he said in a low voice, the hand on her face sliding down from her throat, making her shiver as he touched her, and then, his head bent down to hers. Where she thought surely he meant to kiss her, his tongue came out instead, tracing the line that began at the bottom of her chin, back to her lip. Entranced, and unable to look away, she watched as his eyes closed as, his breath caught, as he sucked his lips into his mouth.
Beneath her fingers, one had she hadn't realized had fallen, had come to rest where it had started. Atop of the most intimate place of a man, where she felt, a new found surge of life. Overwhelmed by this, she almost missed the first signs that its owner meant to kiss her. And kiss her, he did. It was the kind of kiss that would have made any woman go weak in the knees, and pretty much sent her to the edge of paradise.
With added force of his hand going behind her neck, she felt the pain of her split lip all too keenly, and whimper when he took it into his mouth, sucking and taking what it offered. Then he kissed her again, and again, forming a trail that left her lips, to her chin, across her jaw line, and finally reaching her throat.
The sensation of his warm breath against the tender flesh made her tremble, her desire on the rise. One hand still on his face, slipped to his shoulder, feeling that he too, trembled beneath her grasp. Without warning, she felt his tongue on her throat, lapping at the taste of her skin, feeling the pulse beneath it. Then, as her eyes shut, paradise shattered.
That hand at the back of her throat moved to the opposite side of where his head took refuge, tightening its grip, holding her in place just as at long last, his teeth pierced her throat.
Her eyes flew open, her mouth involuntarily opening as a gasp of pain shook her. Her nails dug deep into the arm she still latched to, and her other hand tightened on the bulge he had in his pants. The pain was like needles, sharp and present in her throat. Every thought of how much it hurt, seemed to vanish in the next moment, when she heard Michael. He made a sound that sent electricity and arousal pulsating from her head to her toe. The sound of him drinking her blood, followed by his mouth parting with a whimper of release, which sent a warm sensation down her neck, racing across her collarbone.
She heard the sound of his swallowing once more, and moaned. The next second, the surge of pain returned, as his teeth dove a little deeper, causing tears to form at the back of her eyes, and came sliding down her cheeks. The pressure of his hand, now hot as fire, increased, holding her neck to his mouth, as he took yet another mouthful of her blood deep inside himself. Her eyes became locked on the threshold, then to the door that lay broken on the floor, which began to blur.
She quickly went to blink, to clear her eyes of the tears that were sure to be the obstruction. Only then, after the fact, did she recognize the dizziness that accompanied the unpleasant change of vision. The hand that once clutched so tightly onto his shoulder, loosened its grip, and eventually came to slide down the length of his arm. Even the weight of her head, soon became too much, causing her to slump against the man she sought to save, who was slowly drawing the life out of her.
It was this, the sudden addition of her weight against him, that made the chain reaction start. There was movement, too fast for her eyes to keep up with. Then there were words. By the time she realized she was now laying down on the bed, she recognized the voice was Michael's, and he was pressing something to her neck.
"I'm fine." She told him, trying to shake off the dizziness.
