Ianto was perfect, just perfect. Fighting back, but not to get away just to enhance the moment. Jack licked his lips and flicked his tongue out tasting the smell of his lover's blood. He drew his lips back and his fangs came out. He tease his love with the sharp points before sinking them in, feeling the first rush of rich blood.
The first time Jack had tasted Ianto had been about six months in. He had stupidly forgotten to feel the night before, having to deal with other matters. He had asked Ianto if he could feed. He had seen how the boy trembled at the mention but had given it. Had Jack had any other ideas he would have, but he didn't. He held Ianto on their couch, kissing his neck, the boy trying not to fight. But some how Jack had gotten Ianto to relax enough that when he bit it had barely hurt.
The taste had been something close to a religious experience. The blood was think and rich. Ianto had gone limp in his hands and as much as Jack wanted to he would not bring himself off on this feeling. Afterwards, he had laid Ianto down, gotten him something to drink and had taken maters into his own hands. Now the taste was not only heightened by the passion but by the willingness of Ianto.
Jack pulled his lips away from the neck, still licking the blood that ran form the puncture marks. He never had to drink very much to keep him alive as long as he feed ever day. "Yes, just like this." he reached down to stroke Ianto. "I love you." he whispered into his ear.