Despite all his bravado, Ryah couldn't help the spark of fear at how quick and close Drake got to him. Vampires really were a class of their own, weren't they? No wonder so many of them regarded humans as weak, as easy sources of food. It probably didn't help that he felt so tired and helpless. The blood loss was getting to him, wasn't it? The sharp jab of the needle jolted through him, sudden and painful.<br/><br/>Even more sudden than that though was the tongue that licked across his chest. Ryah fought back a gasp, his sharp intake of breath cut off and strangled. His hands shot out, of their own volition, and gripped Drake's shoulders tightly. Oh--oh<i>fuck</i>--that felt good. Why did it feel good? The hunter didn't understand it but the wet tongue, tracing over his wound, licking up his blood--it sent bolts of jagged, white-hot pleasure coursing through him. Ryah bit down on his lower lip, trying to muffle the noises but broken groan escaped his throat anyway, the sound low and guttural.<br/><br/>He felt torn between jerking away and pulling the vampire closer, both wanting more and wanting to get away. How could he want this? Having his blood taken, his chest licked by a vampire, and a<i>male</i>one, at that? Before he could do either, to his growing horror, he felt his cock harden in his pants, signaling his arousal. Ryah shut his eyes, shifting his hips, nails digging into Drake's flesh, looking for any sort of relief. He wanted--he needed--<br/><br/>"Don't stop--oh<i>fuck</i>, I--" he wasn't even aware he'd spoken the words outloud until they reached his ears.