"Don't be afraid" he whispered, as he leaded forward and sank his teeth into my throat.
It was almost pleasurable, the feeling of my life rushing into him, until I fell unconscious. His lips against mine, calling me back.
He smiled as he pulled away, and, dimly, I was aware that the others had left.
He reached out and cupped my face in his hand, his thumb stroking gently over the fresh bite marks. Slowly, he raised his other hand, and drew a fingernail across the base of his neck. He smiled reassuringly, and, almost reverently, I leaned forward, and drank.
It didn't taste like blood. At least, not the blood I'd tasted when I bit my lip, or sucked a cut finger. It was like sunshine and moonlight, dewdrops and summer, all the good things in my life, and so much more.
I sighed with pleasure as the dark elixir flowed into me, coursing down my throat and dripping from the corner of my mouth.
Slowly, I ran my tongue up his throat, tracing the line of his jaw. He chuckled darkly when I reached his lips, kissing me slowly, intensely, his blood flowing between our lips.
I relaxed, leaning back in his arms, and he began to sing, his voice carrying me into oblivion.