Carrick moaned in savage pleasure, his raw and cracked flesh beginning to heal as the blood sped through him. Lying atop the other man, tearing into his throat again and gulping down the hot blood, he felt his sex begin to harden. Still ruled by his blood frenzy, he forced his mouth down over Russell's, hands now clawing at the sweatpants that were his lover's only garment and dragging them down over his hips, pulling his legs apart.
It was the whimper that stopped him. What was he doing?
He shook his head, trying to clear it, the red-black sheen dissolving from his eyes and leaving the usual pale grey in its place. He let go of Russell's body immediately pulled back, staring helplessly at his lover as his fangs withdrew and his head cleared.