Chapter 13: Feeding (soft R18)
Corven held his breath, jaw tight, bracing himself as his eyes drifted upward—fixating on the pale, silver moon above.
A weak distraction. A feeble anchor for what he knew was coming.
"Go on..." he whispered, his voice low, strained—laced with something between command and surrender.
A shiver passed through the undead spawn.
And then—it bit.
Her fangs sank deep into the side of his neck with an audible shlk. His skin gave way, and suddenly there was no barrier between them—just heat, blood, and something primal.
The initial stab of pain hit hard, like lightning lancing through his nerves.
Then came the pull.
The sensation was layered—complex, twisted. Pain and pleasure coiled together in equal measure. Like ten thousand glass slivers pressing into his flesh, each laced with something maddeningly sweet. It bypassed pain. Bypassed touch.
It became something deeper.
"Shit..." Corven groaned, biting down on his lip, drawing his own blood. His fists clenched, his body locked.
The sensation of being drained was unnerving.