Lestat accommodates, allowing Louis to move his arm as he prefers.
"Neatly," he says. As if he were still teaching him, over a century later.
Holds his breath through the kiss, and then through the sting of fangs piercing through. The squeeze of pressure, the immediate sense of a pull, tingled numbness flowing down his arm to his fingertips. Only a sip, Louis says, when he would very much enjoy the sensation of Louis taking his proper fill of him.
It would be harder to resist if he'd given his throat. To stop the thing that is letting Louis hold him close, as if they hadn't done that all night. Something to taste in his blood, that sense of comfort in closeness, the panic and rage of last night, and then the chill wind of the sky flowing around him like water as he dived from it, all ice cold intent forged of and replacing that panic, that rage.
His other hand moves to fan and settle his fingers against Louis' nape, thumb gently rubbing in that little spot behind his ear.
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"Neatly," he says. As if he were still teaching him, over a century later.
Holds his breath through the kiss, and then through the sting of fangs piercing through. The squeeze of pressure, the immediate sense of a pull, tingled numbness flowing down his arm to his fingertips. Only a sip, Louis says, when he would very much enjoy the sensation of Louis taking his proper fill of him.
It would be harder to resist if he'd given his throat. To stop the thing that is letting Louis hold him close, as if they hadn't done that all night. Something to taste in his blood, that sense of comfort in closeness, the panic and rage of last night, and then the chill wind of the sky flowing around him like water as he dived from it, all ice cold intent forged of and replacing that panic, that rage.
His other hand moves to fan and settle his fingers against Louis' nape, thumb gently rubbing in that little spot behind his ear.