Mitchell moaned into the kiss, licking the blood--his, Samandriel's, it didn't matter at this point--from his mouth, his hands moving over his skin, eager and restless. He was practically thrumming now, so filled with life, with power, with energy.
"You're gorgeous," he crooned, mouthing over the boy's skin, learning the taste of him. "So beautiful, Sam. I want...I need to taste you everywhere...."