Damian was originally of Belle Morte's line, even though She who made him now qualified as a sourdre de sang in her own right. Sexuality is still built in. He simply controls it more than most out of long-learned necessity.
"Sharing blood is intimate," he tells Jason simply, the hunger in his eyes leaking now to the rest of his manner. He glides over to Jason, looking him up and down. The wolf has been malnourished, but is on the mend. Whatever happened, it was serious, but he keeps his mouth shut.
"Where would you prefer I bite?" He has always been courteous to Jason. It is something he does differently with those he chooses, something that separates them from the women at the club, who are little more to him than annoying snacks.
Jason snorts. "Yeah, well not everyone is as comfortable as you guys are."
He gives a light shrug, grinning. "I'm easy. Just not the wrist...rolled or not, it still hurts like a bitch after the fact." The grins grows more wicked.
Jason rolls further onto the bed and moves to sit in front of Damian, resting his back comfortably against the vampire. There's no anxiety in him, only anticipation. Even if it's not Jean Claude or Asher, he still likes feeding the vampires.
"So different from the club," he murmurs with the slightest of smiles, his tone clearly appreciative, though a little rough with need.
One arm wraps around Jason's torso, his hand splayed broadly across naked flesh. It isn't a sexual touch, but one might be able to call it affectionate in addition to being a practical support. With his other hand, he tilts Jason's head to the side.
He can hear Jason's quickening pulse as he leans forward and kisses lightly at the flesh of the werewolf's neck, feeling for the right place to strike. When he finds it, he wastes little time, need urging him to bite down as his gift pushes through to Jason's mind, turning pain to pleasure.
Jason smiles as Damian's hand moves around his midsection. "Well I am a professional."
Any other words he has are lost in a low moan as Damian's lips brush over his throat. God, he loves that feeling. When Damian strikes he inhales sharply, hands tightening in the sheets as he moans out his pleasure at being rolled.
After having endured the blood that Bar provided, Jason's blood is like drinking from the fabled fountain of youth. Hot, slick, and potent, the flood of crimson sends a rush of heat through him. He doesn't try to choke back his quiet moans between swallows. To do so would take far too much effort.
Swallow after swallow, he feels the chill of his body retreat. It is when his heart jump-starts in his chest to a frantic rhythm, that his hands tighten around Jason.
Jason feels that throbbing in his head, but he's so thoroughly rolled that he can't process the feeling. He gives a soft moan, head beginning to loll slightly as Damian grips him.
It's mostly the effect of being rolled, but with Jean Claude and some members of his kiss, Jason feels so safe in the embrace of the vampires. Safe and happy.
Damian drinks, fully sating his thirst as he supports Jason. His flesh becomes malleable and hot to the touch, the fresh blood surging through his system with the strong beats of his heart.
Though he is not personally attracted to Jason in a sexual way, his body responds to the full feeding as it always does, no matter the partner. Aroused and brought as close to life as he can get, the thirst disappears completely, and he finally detaches from Jason's throat.
He is neat in his feeding, his bite efficient, and he licks at the oozing blood, allowing the magic of his bite to dissipate slowly, another courtesy given to Jason. His hands touch soothingly as he breathes, his lips hot against Jason's neck.
Jason slumps contentedly in Damian's arms, a lazy smile on his lips. He doesn't even bother opening his eyes just yet; they'll still be either rolled back or unfocused anyway.
In fact, the only sign that he's even conscious is the faint, contented moans coming from him at every soft touch.
There are a few seconds of almost smug satisfaction as Damian comes back to his senses and takes in the state in which he has left Jason. He may not have Asher's orgasmic bite, but he still gives pleasure when he desires to do so, and Jason has very much earned the privilege.
He is careful with Jason as he lays the wolf down into bed. He goes to the bathroom adjoining the bedroom and returns quickly with ointment, gauze, and surgical tape. Patching up his bite mark with painless, efficient movements, he tucks Jason into bed, his own arousal already beginning to fade as his heart calms into a more steady rhythm.
"Thank you, Jason," he murmurs gratefully into the werewolf's ear.
Damian smiles softly at the drowsy wolf. "Yes, of course." Gathering the Gatorade and banana Jason had brought up from the bar, he places them on the bedside table. "Sleep well, Jason," he says with a final friendly touch to the man's shoulder.
Silent as a shadow, but for the strong beating of his heart, Damian takes his leave, the pleasure of his bite lingering long after he has departed.
"Sharing blood is intimate," he tells Jason simply, the hunger in his eyes leaking now to the rest of his manner. He glides over to Jason, looking him up and down. The wolf has been malnourished, but is on the mend. Whatever happened, it was serious, but he keeps his mouth shut.
"Where would you prefer I bite?" He has always been courteous to Jason. It is something he does differently with those he chooses, something that separates them from the women at the club, who are little more to him than annoying snacks.
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He gives a light shrug, grinning. "I'm easy. Just not the wrist...rolled or not, it still hurts like a bitch after the fact." The grins grows more wicked.
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"Ready when you are."
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One arm wraps around Jason's torso, his hand splayed broadly across naked flesh. It isn't a sexual touch, but one might be able to call it affectionate in addition to being a practical support. With his other hand, he tilts Jason's head to the side.
He can hear Jason's quickening pulse as he leans forward and kisses lightly at the flesh of the werewolf's neck, feeling for the right place to strike. When he finds it, he wastes little time, need urging him to bite down as his gift pushes through to Jason's mind, turning pain to pleasure.
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Any other words he has are lost in a low moan as Damian's lips brush over his throat. God, he loves that feeling. When Damian strikes he inhales sharply, hands tightening in the sheets as he moans out his pleasure at being rolled.
Reply
Swallow after swallow, he feels the chill of his body retreat. It is when his heart jump-starts in his chest to a frantic rhythm, that his hands tighten around Jason.
Reply
It's mostly the effect of being rolled, but with Jean Claude and some members of his kiss, Jason feels so safe in the embrace of the vampires. Safe and happy.
Reply
Though he is not personally attracted to Jason in a sexual way, his body responds to the full feeding as it always does, no matter the partner. Aroused and brought as close to life as he can get, the thirst disappears completely, and he finally detaches from Jason's throat.
He is neat in his feeding, his bite efficient, and he licks at the oozing blood, allowing the magic of his bite to dissipate slowly, another courtesy given to Jason. His hands touch soothingly as he breathes, his lips hot against Jason's neck.
Reply
In fact, the only sign that he's even conscious is the faint, contented moans coming from him at every soft touch.
Reply
He is careful with Jason as he lays the wolf down into bed. He goes to the bathroom adjoining the bedroom and returns quickly with ointment, gauze, and surgical tape. Patching up his bite mark with painless, efficient movements, he tucks Jason into bed, his own arousal already beginning to fade as his heart calms into a more steady rhythm.
"Thank you, Jason," he murmurs gratefully into the werewolf's ear.
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"Thank you," he murmurs with a smile. "Oh...leave my drink on the nightstand for later?" His voice is slurring heavily, and he doesn't care at all.
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Silent as a shadow, but for the strong beating of his heart, Damian takes his leave, the pleasure of his bite lingering long after he has departed.
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