July Camp NaNoWriMo Excerpt
He kissed her softly, just a peck on the lips that soon turned into a lingering caress. She could feel her objections dying off quietly as she began to kiss him back. What had started slow and sensual soon turned into a blistering hot kiss that made her gasp for breath.
She knotted her fingers in his hair as his lips began to move along her jaw, titling her head back as his lips tailed a path downwards. He kissed her neck, starting just beneath her ear and moving downwards towards her collar bone. He stopped just above her pulse point, and she could feel it nearly jumping out of her skin to meet his lips.
The nips with his teeth started so gently, she didn’t notice them at first. By the time she did, he had moved back up to kiss her lips, and she felt the nips on her bottom lip, and repeated them onto him. He laughed, a rumble she felt rather than heard as he pulled her closer to him.
One of his bites broke the fragile skin on her lip, and she could taste the bitter blood as it entered her mouth. This made him groan, and he broke off kissing her, burying his face in her neck instead.
When he bit her neck, she gasped at the sharp sting, but that was soon replaced by the overwhelming urge to just give herself to him. She could feel him sucking the blood out of her, but instead of feeling wrong she felt contented, glad that she was doing this with him.
When he dragged his lips up to hers to kiss her, she greedily licked the blood off his lips, eager to share in something that obviously brought him so much pleasure. He laughed again, and ran his tongue over the cut on her lip, causing it to well up with blood again. She groaned, and readily swallowed the blood that was entering her mouth.
He broke off again, and laughed at her noise of disapproval. “Calm down, honey, I’ve got something you’ll enjoy more.” He leaned forward, his bare chest pressing into her, and grabbed something off the desk behind her. He held the knife to his neck, and cut across his skin, causing a small wound to open.
She barely needed his guidance to it: from the second she saw it she felt a pull towards it. Unlike her own blood, this didn’t taste bitter. Instead it tasted sweet, like warm honey. She drank quickly, feeling it drip down her chin as she tried desperately to drink tidily the way he had done.
He tilted his head back, allowing her to drink blissfully for a few moments. Eventually, he gently moved her head away. Before she could grumble, he bent to her wound again and drank, causing her to sigh contently.