Keen red eyes

Marcus drooled over her. He can still remember the time when he drinks her in. That was the illusion he sought of.

The blood was not half-bad. It felt like he had fed from a royalty. But people’s blood does not have great distinction, it is the temptation suppressed deeply that made it taste like special, different, exotic, most of all extraordinary.

Marcus had to know his limits and so he stop. He still had a sense of honorifics to the gal who were kindly enough not to blew him out and offered herself to fill in his hunger.

Jane by now is in her room, resting from volunteering on bloodsucking from the hound that took advantage of her.

She has a spirit, he gave her that, but her rash boldness put her in the state of stupefaction. The lady hasn’t woken up for the last nine hours. He was beginning to worry.