WESSEX
Listening, the Queen mentally runs through the steps Loren outlines and eventually nods. She gets it. Practicing it is another story. So when they’re outside and Loren offers his wrist, Wessex takes it lightly in her hand and lifts it to mouth height. She looks at the delicate flesh and then from beneath her brows back to the summoner. She can only assume he’s done this before, as he’d mentioned testing it out with Rexanna, but they have an odd, tentative relationship. Orgasmic pleasure despite a non-attraction, something that is usually only experienced at the hands of a lover, could complicate their relationship.
“I’ve never drunk enough to put someone in danger, so… if you feel it going to far and can manage, tap me hard. Or pull away. I’ll try to do the same.” And then he’ll heal himself. And then she’ll theoretically summon a Sparkbird. With a mental ‘here goes nothing,’ the Ascended curls her lip back to bare her fangs and sinks them into the Launceleyn’s pale wrist. There’s a gush of something hot and heavy as blood and power floods her mouth, and oh is the power in his veins tangible. Wessex stifles a little moan as the sensations begin to overwhelm her and she latches on to the source, drinking mouthful by mouthful, as greedy as the last time she drank from Edrei. There’s a crescendo throughout her body, as if every nanite were poised to explode - except it doesn’t. There’s just the come down. And Wessex pushing herself away from Loren.
These Launceleyn’s, man. She loves the feeling of their magic underneath her skin.
It’s dangerous.
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
