In his early days as a vampire, he'd always been hungry, it had never been enough, he'd wanted more. More of everything: blood, sex, violence - it was all so good, so new.
After a while he'd gotten calmer. Oh, he still enjoyed sex and blood and violence, but he didn't crave them as much as before. Yet sometimes, he saw someone, they looked so alive, smelled so appetizing, felt so warm and vulnerable under his touch. Then it came all back, he didn't know if he wanted to drain or fuck or dismember them. Probably all of the above - just not in that order. He'd gotten better at controlling himself, managed to walk away from people without harming them. After all, he tried to blend in, be inconspicuous. Still it wasn't easy when the hunger came back like that, it was a primal urge, he had to fight himself for control when his whole body craved blood.
Sometimes he gave in, at least partially. He had to be so careful not to break them, though, humans broke so easily. He had to hold himself back, try not to get carried away, not to drink too much, not to kill them.
And other times, he just chose a vampire - he didn't have to be careful with them, could be rough without breaking them, could bite and fuck as much as he wanted. Those times were rare, but whenever they happened he felt reminded of his early days when there was nothing else on his mind but his needs and how to fulfill them.