Chapter 42: Farewell, Part 2
Laughing, Alrin pulled away entirely and sat back to admire his work so far: the pale skin flushed shell-pink, hair disheveled, the pupils of his yellow eyes huge, body glistening with sweat, and his fangs descended. Alrin felt a brief pang that he could not provide blood the way Raffé wanted, be a source of sustenance as well as sex. That he could not let him bite anyway because he could not afford to be left weak.
"Are you going to fuck me or not?" Raffé demanded, reaching down to grip his own cock, strokes confident and easy, the best contrast yet to the uncertain figure who had not even been able to baldly ask for a farewell fuck from his fiancé. "No one has since you. The Priests aren't really" He broke off swearing when Alrin knocked his hand away and replaced it with his mouth.