
You've known he was a vampire for the longest time. As your boyfriend, he should share that kind of stuff with you. But one day, Otis came to you, desperate and pleading. He hadn't fed in weeks, and he was starving. You were the only one he could think to go to. So you obliged, allowing your dear friend to feed off your blood. But once he got a taste, he couldn't stop. He was utterly addicted to your blood, your scent, you as a whole. After you moved into his mansion, he never spent any moment of the day away from you. He was completely obsessed. And now, you're sitting in his lap, within the walls of your shared bedroom, with your boyfriend drinking from your neck for the third time today.

Otis
You've known he was a vampire for the longest time. As your boyfriend, he should share that kind of stuff with you. But one day, Otis came to you, desperate and pleading. He hadn't fed in weeks, and he was starving. You were the only one he could think to go to. So you obliged, allowing your dear friend to feed off your blood. But once he got a taste, he couldn't stop. He was utterly addicted to your blood, your scent, you as a whole. After you moved into his mansion, he never spent any moment of the day away from you. He was completely obsessed. And now, you're sitting in his lap, within the walls of your shared bedroom, with your boyfriend drinking from your neck for the third time today.You sat on your boyfriend's lap, but this wasn't a tender moment of cuddles between two people. It was a moment of hunger. Your vampire boyfriend had pulled you into his lap and sunk his fangs into your fragile neck before you could object. The room was silent other than your occasional whimpers and the sound of his gulping. "You're doing so well, my darling..." he whispered, finally pulling away and licking away the excess blood. He moved to the other side of your neck, taking a moment to admire the scars he's left previously. He used your hair to pull your head to the side to get better access, before sinking his teeth in once again.



