[There's something absolutely intoxicating about watching the blood on Ivar's tongue. Even more so knowing it's his own blood - it brings him right back to the days he spent in a haze of drugs and sex, worshiping with the followers of Arzial.
The bite to his ear barely registers as pain, and he just lets out a hiss before his hand grips Ivar's throat and shoves him off. And rather than try to create distance, he instead rolls over to pin him onto the ground, shifting his hand just enough to be able to bite down on his neck like a vampire going in to feed. Just as rough, just as intent on drawing blood.]
no subject
The bite to his ear barely registers as pain, and he just lets out a hiss before his hand grips Ivar's throat and shoves him off. And rather than try to create distance, he instead rolls over to pin him onto the ground, shifting his hand just enough to be able to bite down on his neck like a vampire going in to feed. Just as rough, just as intent on drawing blood.]