Once he had drunk his fill, Sam slowly pulled his teeth out, trying to make the movement steady so it did not hurt too much. Blood gushed from the wound and he quickly reached for a rag on the table to hold to Nate's wrist to stem the flow, his other hand holding the mans arm still. He stared determinedly downwards, trying to ignore the tingling heat in his body.
"I...um...thank you. I hope you..I hope it...wasn't too bad." He mumbled, shifting his legs to hide any sign of arousal from Nate and lifting the cloth to see if the blood had clotted yet on the wound. This part, the aftermath with the blood and the scars on his friends wrists, was still taking some getting used to. It made him feel a beast, an animal among men.
He certainly felt like acting on animal instincts when he actually looked up to Nate's eyes and the first thing he thought was to throw himself at the man, knock the chair backwards, rock his hips over Nate's cock and kis--
He wiped the rag over the wound, which was beginning to bleed slower.
Samuel
I tried to dance with the devil on your back
