Iseulith’s gaze swept over him tightly, urgently even as the man pulled away from him. He smiled wryly at the answer of confirmed fear, saw how the emotion shifted in the color of his eyes. Felt the crackling buzz of power at the elemental’s finger tips giving him more hints at his true nature. This one was easy to read. The mention of claustrophobia elicited a deep laugh, the vampires smooth baritone vibrating his bones from the closeness of their proximity, his cool breath like some kind of sweet red fruit on the man’s cheek. He laughed because he had slept in a coffin for half of his existence and the thought had never once occurred to him that a creature such as this might find his rather spacious abode to be quite constricting.<br/><br/><br/>He remained firmly planted in the man’s face however, not giving him an inch as he shied backwards threatening to fall from the plush cushions entirely. “Some of my brethren have no manners… They don’t understand the joy of submission like I do.” Iseulith’s eyes grew wide at the mention of him being an elemental of wind. That explained the unusual scent. He had know it was something along those lines but he didn’t dare speak it for fear of it being a fantasy. “Oh, lovely…” he breathed, settling into a seated position right next to the creature, giving him a small measure of extra space. “You were the storm…” He pulled that crisp scent into his nose, letting it wash through him, chill him. “No, if you believe yourself to be the only one then I doubt I would have but I’m so very curious to know.”<br/><br/><br/>Iseulith listened to the story of his ward’s previous vampiric attentions with a puzzled look, “Your previous master sounds cruel. To mistreat such a precious treasure. He must have been young and thoughtless.” Many of the younger vampires were needlessly cruel. They had not known the world when it was not yet fully formed. Their respective societal learnings had marked them with things like revenge and a lust for power stronger than even their lust for blood. They sought to bend people to their breaking points and relish in their anguish.<br/><br/><br/>The ancient felt none of these things, he simply was what he was. He could not in fact remember his life before. He had been a holy priest of some kind, well learned in the ways of arcane magic even then, before it became a thing shrouded in mystery and intrigue. But those were all fragments from a human like he never had fully connected to, lost long ago to the annals of time. “I would not see you treated so. I would see you soar. I would see you to rip the currents of the air around you in your full devastating majesty.” …but first I would make you mine.<br/><br/><br/>He watched the smooth white hand move to his chest, felt its gentle touch on his cold flesh. It seemed the man had made his choice and it was a good one he thought as he settled into the feeling of the fingers against the smooth muscles beyond his open shirt. He relinquished himself to his fate and Iseulith moaned lustfully as that head of pure white hair dropped back exposing the beautifully veined neck ripe for consumption. The vampire slid in close, wrapping his arms around the wind fashioned form. One slipped around his back like a snake gripping him tightly, a cool hand at the back of his neck to cradle him gently. He would not waste this moment with words, only action.<br/><br/><br/>A frightening hiss escaped Iseulith’s throat as he dropped his jaw, the joints popping slightly as the bones unhinged giving his abnormally long thin fangs the room they needed to puncture flesh and he struck like a viper plunging them deep into an artery at the crook where neck meets shoulder. His mouth closed fully around his dinner’s throat and then it began. The initial entry would have hurt just like any vampire’s bite, like two needles popping through tender skin but the warmth from his salvia would numb the pain significantly. He pushed his venom into the wounds thinning the blood before he began to draw the delicious life giving blood into his mouth, swallowing hungrily. A wave of pure euphoria would begin to course through his the being, slowly at first, traveling with his blood stream down his neck like a trail of warm kisses. When it reached his heart the real fun began. The strong blood pumping muscle would disperse the venom throughout his body spreading out from his chest as a if a blooming flower spreading its petals to the sun, unadulterated bliss spreading into his arms and legs only to double back creating rolling waves of near agonizing pleasure. Most of those willing to feel his Embrace to the fullest writhed under him like a rabbit caught in a snare, unable to accept the intensity of it, but drug addicts might be different, as they were used to riding those kinds of waves. He wouldn’t know as human addicts were not something he was willing to try. Their scent was often unpleasant from disease and their minds too broken to give the true consent needed to bask in its radiant glow.<br/><br/><br/>The ancient vampires eyes rolled back as he drank, pulling the dark rich blood into his mouth and letting it wash over his tongue into himself. His previously static organs began to spasm with life as the blood entered them. His heart began to thump in his chest like a slow metronome, pumping the elemental’s blood through his death darkened veins. The transference of fluids made his mind melt and he pulled more and more instinctively as his pallor grew into something a bit more healthy looking. He tasted like the wind indeed and the vampire could feel the cool embrace of wet rain on his face. He could feel the rumbling of thunder in his muscles as they flexed. He could feel lightning in his chest as it struck his insides with brilliance. It was glorious. The purity of it made him moan deeply, vibrating the man’s neck as he drowned in a pleasure of a different kind.