There's something intoxicating about the moment, her touch leaving a warmth spreading into his flesh that Morgan will feel more than Neron, as time goes on. Just because he can't experience the heat or the physical pleasure (until his teeth pierce her flesh, at least, and we're getting there), it doesn't stop the thrill that runs down his spine to hear that she's been hoping for this. She'll be able to feel his smile now, too, fangs drifting, teasing over her neck, promising more.
"I would have come sooner, but I was worried you might really hit me with that hammer. It might not hurt, but it makes a very formidable deterrent, you know." A kneecapped Ascended may not howl will pain, but the hobbling is nonetheless inconvenient. Neron clasps her closer, humming a note of indulgent mischief. But he hasn't come all this way to disappoint her.
And so, being careful to choose a place near the crook of her neck, easily hidden by layers, Neron slips his fangs into her veins. And the whipcrack of pleasure, of arousal, is nearly instant. His hand smooths along Morgan's back, fingers twining into her hair, as blood wells like rubies against his lips, flooding through the length of him.
