The blood you bleed Is just the blood you owe

He pressed his lips to her offered ones, clumsy and inexperienced. He tasted the after effects of the whiskey in her breath as heat coiled throughout him, high and low. There was something intoxicating about being offered that which he would normally take. It would not stop him from taking it again another day, but he let himself enjoy the moment. The heat of her against him, their lips locked together. He didn't know the sensations that could burst to life from the pressure of her soft muzzle in his.


Soon, he was gasping. His head reeling with dizziness both from alcohol in his blood and the sensations around him. He wanted her, he needed her. His tongue tasted her as he pushed inside her mouth. “Let me take you, please, dear Demelza.” He broke off to whisper. His lips savoured these magic words that seemed to allow her to give. Denied, he would take regardless. But one would (probably) be gentler than the other.