Sam fell back onto the mattress, Ruby straddling his waist. She kissed him hard, stripping him of his jacket. He tangled his fingers through her dark hair, and flipped her onto her back.
Ruby smirked, pulling her leg upward and slipping a small knife from her boot. Bringing it to her forearm, she hesitated.
"Sam, do you...?"
Sam shuddered, licking his lips, and helped her drag the blade across her skin. Blood trickled and seeped out of the cut, Sam's senses going insane.
He brought the wound to his mouth, soft lips sucking and licking the warm, crimson liquid.
He began to pant heavily, and a small moan escaped his lips. The sensation was overwhelming.
Ruby's blood tasted like her. Like love and lust, trust and lies. It was almost intoxicating. And Sam wanted it; wanted her.
Ruby rubbed small circles on Sam's back, a smile tugging at her lips. "It's okay, Sammy. It's okay."
That's my boy.