Spike drank her blood.  Her arousal only made it more powerful, more enticing.  He was a Master Vampire, though, and still in control of himself enough to know when he had to stop.  He groaned and licked hard across the wound, the chemicals in his saliva having altered to heal the wound rather than encourage the flow of blood.  He moved over her, his otherwise pale skin highlighted by the trickle of blood from his lips.  He leaned down to kiss Raven, her own blood still on his lips.