Draco gasps when she bites him. It’s a low, masculine exhale—almost more of a growl than a breath. His eyes roll back in his head and he cannot help but imagine how good his blood must taste. Gospel spills it so easily, so naturally. The demon thinks it must look so beautiful and vibrant upon her tongue.
Draco gathers her mane in his mouth and tugs as she removes her teeth. His skin goes numb. He begins to back away as she speaks, trailing his mouth along the vein in her neck, feeling her pulse healthy and quick. He finds where her cheek meets her neck and feeling tired from the excitement of every gift Gospel gave him, he only leaves a warm kiss. He is sure this will not sate whatever Gospel desires, but he finds a warm pleasure in knowing that he may leave her wanting.
And he wonders what might happen if she forces it out of him, or how they might collide in the future.
Draco trails his mouth over the curve of Gospel’s cheek to find the corner of her mouth. His blood smears against the side of his lips. The thrill of tasting the violence that streams through his veins sends his heart back into a race.
“What do you desire, Gospel?” he whispers, then draws back to catch her gaze. “I never want you to leave my side.”
