Her greedy pulls at his wrist sent hope blooming in his chest. She sat up, not releasing his wrist and continued to drink.
Had Asher been a mortal, this much blood loss might’ve posed a cause to worry. He felt himself growing weaker from the loss but couldn’t find a modicum in himself to care. She needed the blood way more than he did.
In his entire existence, he never imagined he’d be this ecstatic to have his blood drunk. But if she could drink him, then she’d heal. He could keep her alive long enough to escape this cursed realm. He’d be her sustenance for as long as she needs.
Despite the gravity of their situation; sitting amongst a pile of rubble after his mate almost got killed, his c**k still shot hard from her bite.
The amount of arousal her bite brought him was maddening.
