When a vampire begs, it’s not with words.
It’s the way he breathes through his teeth even though he doesn’t need to.
The way his hands shake at his sides like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch you.
The way his fangs ache in his gums—just at the sight of your throat.
“Please,” he rasps, but it isn’t a word—it’s a need.
And when you tilt your chin up, slow, knowing exactly what that does to him—
He’s already on his knees.
You didn’t even have to ask.














