With delicate precision, I pierced his neck, and the warmth flooded my mouth, an intoxicating rush that went beyond the physical. The blood was rich, thick with history and heat, and every drop was a whisper of something ancient, something calling to me like a siren's song.
His pulse thrummed beneath my lips, a rhythmic call, a plea that I couldn’t ignore. Ginevra’s moans filled the room, low and soft, a symphony in the intimacy of this moment. I felt him melt against me, lost in the pleasure, his body arching into mine as I fed.
As Ginevra sank his fangs into my skin, pleasure and pain erupted, leaving me breathless. The bite was sharp, but his touch, the way his hands gripped me, balanced the sting with something sweeter. His teeth dug deeper, drawing a slow, aching gasp from me as the mingling of our essences filled the space between us.