He can taste that desire sparking within her. She must be so lonely, so very much in need. He feels his own body reacting, desire tinging in his skin, warming him as much as her blood does. The hand that isn't bracing him against falling moves to slowly caress her neck. Ever so slowly he retracts his fangs, his lips tender against her skin, his tongue gently licking the little punctures.

After a beat he pulls his lips from her skin with aching slowness. There'll be two little healing marks there, bruised and tender, but they have, at least, stopped bleeding. But the obvious desire in her movements and the small sounds she makes, even the tears trembling on her lashes, makes him stay. He sinks slowly onto her, easing between her thighs, his lips finding hers and kissing them softly but deeply. A low, breathy moan escapes him--she feels so very good.