Ryah grabbed Drake's shirt, yanking it over his head and throwing it aside. It landed somewhere on the floor, not that he gave a damn. Instead, he dove right back in, devouring the brunet's lips, leaving them red and marked before he kissed a trail along his jaw to his ear lobe where he bit down, and when he lifted his head, there was an imprint. "<i>Fuck</i>, yeah--lemme just--gonna fucking<i>wreck</i><i>you</i>," he growled out against Drake's skin, before kissing his way down his neck to the junction where it met his shoulder. Ryah bit down. Hard. Drawing blood, dark and crimson, gleaming like a ruby.<br/><br/>It only took a few moments before his own shirt joined Drake's on the floor, then his fingers were scrambling, working at their jeans, yanking the buttons, the zippers open. Ryah ran his fingers over Drake's skin, skimming over his shoulders, his arms, down his chest. If Drake wanted to be used, Ryah was more than willing, and soon enough, he had Drake pressed against the couch. He wrapped his hand around the vampire's hard, leaking cock, stroking it with just an edge of roughness. He let go only long enough to wrap his hand around both their cocks, groaning at the feel of it, the slick slide of hard flesh against hard flesh.<br/><br/>He pulled away, breathing hard, his own mouth reddened and swollen, his blue eyes gone dark with desire. "Hold that thought... Bedroom," he declared, lifting a finger up. He got to his feet a little unsteadily and yanked Drake up, pulling him towards the stairs, somehow losing the rest of their clothes on the way to the bedroom.