a

i'm gonna say maybe frank slices your hip a little, cuts deep enough to make you bleed. a little stream, not droplets. he wants to feed on you, but he wants to have a little fun with you first.

with that, he's hovering over you a bit and lightly he traces your wound before sticking a finger inside, making you gasp. he smirks at the sound you make, slowly inching his finger deeper into your wound. he decides your wound isn't big enough for him so he sticks another finger in you to stretch you out. he's making 'come hither' motions and fingering the gash he gave you. scissoring it, too. anything to make your new hole big enough for him.

he's burying his face in your neck. listening to your rapid heartbeat, your short breaths, your whining and moaning. your warm breaths meeting his neck. he feels you writhe and squirm underneath him and he's enjoying it all far too much. you can feel it on your leg.

he kisses your neck before pulling his fingers out of your gash and raises his body so he's kneeling over you. he looks directly into your eyes as he licks his fingers clean. before you know it, his body is back on yours and he trails down your body with kisses as he makes his way to where your blood is slowly pouring out of you. licks the blood trailing down your hip where it threatens to stain your shared bed.

he looks up at you before looking down to focus on the crimson liquid pouring out of you that he swears is better than any whiskey he's ever had. he pokes his tongue into your wound slowly, allowing you to get used to the sensation of this muscle being somewhere you're not used to. no matter how many times you've done this, it always takes some getting used to.

you're still making those little noises he loves so much and you're rubbing your thighs together for some relief while he's finally consuming his meal. his tongue is deep enough to where he's flicking it up and down and swirling it. you're getting louder and he swears he can hear a pulsing between your legs. that results in a twitch in his pants. you know he's gonna start palming himself.

the motions of his tongue slow down before stopping and pulling back with a whisper of a pop. he's not done yet. his mouth is still on you, making a warm, wet home above your wound. he sucks on your skin as tame as he can for a second or two before the taste of you gets the better of him and he starts sucking hard and like he's gonna drain you try. and that drives you both wild. you're rubbing your legs together like your life depends on it because at the moment, it feels like it does.

he's erratic with his movements, humping the bed like a dog in heat while you're trying to get to your own release. when you get there, you let out a broken, slightly high pitched moan and that's what gets him. he lets up on you, no longer hungry. he crawls back onto you to kiss you, grinding on you for a little friction to reach his own peak. soon enough, he gets there.

i'm gonna say maybe frank slices your hip a little, cuts deep enough to make you bleed. a little stream, not droplets. he wants to feed on you, but he wants to have a little fun with you first.

with that, he's hovering over you a bit and lightly he traces your wound before sticking a finger inside, making you gasp. he smirks at the sound you make, slowly inching his finger deeper into your wound. he decides your wound isn't big enough for him so he sticks another finger in you to stretch you out. he's making 'come hither' motions and fingering the gash he gave you. scissoring it, too. anything to make your new hole big enough for him.

he's burying his face in your neck. listening to your rapid heartbeat, your short breaths, your whining and moaning. your warm breaths meeting his neck. he feels you writhe and squirm underneath him and he's enjoying it all far too much. you can feel it on your leg.

he kisses your neck before pulling his fingers out of your gash and raises his body so he's kneeling over you. he looks directly into your eyes as he licks his fingers clean. before you know it, his body is back on yours and he trails down your body with kisses as he makes his way to where your blood is slowly pouring out of you. licks the blood trailing down your hip where it threatens to stain your shared bed.

he looks up at you before looking down to focus on the crimson liquid pouring out of you that he swears is better than any whiskey he's ever had. he pokes his tongue into your wound slowly, allowing you to get used to the sensation of this muscle being somewhere you're not used to. no matter how many times you've done this, it always takes some getting used to.

you're still making those little noises he loves so much and you're rubbing your thighs together for some relief while he's finally consuming his meal. his tongue is deep enough to where he's flicking it up and down and swirling it. you're getting louder and he swears he can hear a pulsing between your legs. that results in a twitch in his pants. you know he's gonna start palming himself.

the motions of his tongue slow down before stopping and pulling back with a whisper of a pop. he's not done yet. his mouth is still on you, making a warm, wet home above your wound. he sucks on your skin as tame as he can for a second or two before the taste of you gets the better of him and he starts sucking hard and like he's gonna drain you try. and that drives you both wild. you're rubbing your legs together like your life depends on it because at the moment, it feels like it does.

he's erratic with his movements, humping the bed like a dog in heat while you're trying to get to your own release. when you get there, you let out a broken, slightly high pitched moan and that's what gets him. he lets up on you, no longer hungry. he crawls back onto you to kiss you, grinding on you for a little friction to reach his own peak. soon enough, he gets there.