Every pull of his blood from veins, every swallow, had Cersie's mind swimming. How had he ended up like this? The answer was simple, though not quite as simple as he would have liked. His addiction, his starvation for something more than his own life had lead him here. Even with the skies bigger than the oceans themselves as company, Cersie had been so very alone. And he hadn't learned how to socialize with those creatures around him. All he'd managed to do was get addicted to a drug, and now addicted to this vampire's saliva. It was so heady, so delicious. His eyes were so heavy he couldn't kept them open.<br/><br/>All he could do was feel, and he felt so much. He gasped and moaned again, his eyes rolling behind their lids once more when Iseulith straddled his hips. The grinding was delicious, and his hand slid from the back of the vampire's skull down to his hips, trembling in deliciousness. It was like he was brought to edge and held their infinitely. When Iseulith pulled away from his throat, his heart was fluttering like a baby bird, soft and shallow like his breath. If he was fully drained off the power in his veins, the blood, he could die, and would if he had no outlet to heal with. Trapped down here, without the outlet of the skies around them, he could very well die.<br/><br/>But the ancient vampire hadn't succumbed to greed and try to kill him. Instead Cersie was left in this eternal state of rapture. Groggy, he caught the words. It was a pretty language, but one he didn't recognize. He didn't even realize others were there. Cersie's eyes slowly opened, a muddy gray like a fog in the winter morning. He let out an unbridled groan when he was kissed, returning it weakly. His limbs were heavy, like someone had dumped sand over his body or submerged him under water. Floating, light, but unable to barely move.<br/><br/>All he could do was writhe and moan as the other ground their hips together once more. His body certainly knew what it wanted, and it wanted this gorgeous vampire who filled his world at this very moment. There were no other thoughts, or emotions. He realized he had spoken to him, tried to catch onto the words, but he could feel his tongue over his neck and shuddered. "No more," he whispered, trying to move. But his body wouldn't listen. He thought for a moment Iseulith was going to go back in and drain him dry. Yet his body refused to feel fear, or breathe life into the words.<br/><br/>Instead he tugged weakly on the other. "I've never...hmmm. I've never felt like this before." His words were sluggish and weak, his voice barely above a whisper. How he was able to form coherent thought, let alone stay conscious, was just a testament to his powers. Or simply perhaps Iseulith hadn't taken as much as he had feared he would. "So good. Please Iseu," he gasped. He needed release, or else he feared he might go insane with want. It truly was the ride of his life, and at that very moment he didn't want it to ever end.