Here’s a snippet from Sins Of The Sire, in which Ninian is remembering his rebirth as a vampire by his mentor’s hand:
A sudden, sharp pain makes my eyes spring open, though, and my mouth opens wide, my leaking cock painting the inside of my trousers. It’s too much, the pain rises as Ruathal plunges his fangs deeper into the flesh of my throat, taking what he will from me. I can’t help it, my traitorous hardness climaxes and soaks me as I scream out.
“AHHH God!” I yell, and I feel Ruathal’s lips smile against my skin as he feeds, grabbing me around my waist as I start sliding from his grip.
My eyes flutter shut, and I enter a half-life of sorts, a dream sleep as he finally pulls away, his chin and cheeks covered with my blood.
“Time, my lovely boy,” he says, smiling as he sweeps me into his arms, cradling me as he carries me to his bed, using my legs to sweep aside the curtain that partitions off his sleeping chamber from the rest of his cottage. He lays me down oh so gently as he strips off his tunic and raises his wrist to his lips, puncturing the skin with one of his shrinking fangs, then presses his own flesh to my lips.
“Drink, boy, taste me and taste yourself.” Through the fog that I’m floating in, I seize the lifeline he gives me as I grab his arm and drink from him. Never in my life have I tasted anything like this; no brew, no wine, no food I have ever had could be this wonderful and delicious to me. His head falls back as he feels his own ecstasy, his own pleasure in making me as he is. I feel the transfer of power, the thrum of our combined blood rushing through my body, and it is glorious.
I feel bereft and empty as he gently removes his arm, and I chase the sudden pain of my death into the familiar mist.
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