His hole ached to be filled almost as much as his fangs desired to thrust into willing flesh. Normally, he was the one topping when he fed, but this actually better, because there was an equality about it. And, besides, he had always been quite good at topping from the bottom.

He positioned himself above that hard, straining, leaking cock. He could feel the body head rising from Grayson’s form. His eyes became slits and, as was always the case when hunting prey, he could see the veins and arteries underneath the skin. They seemed to rise to the surface. It was more like echo-location than actual seeing. His hearing became so acute and his eyesight so keen that the human body’s tender spots were completely laid bare.

The throat.

The wrists.

The inner arms.

He slowly lowered himself onto Grayson’s cock. The young man gasped as he led that lovely, pink-flushed head into his opening. He was slick enough that he slid down the whole length in one go. It bore down on Grayson’s cock as soon as it was fully sheathed inside of him. His eyes slid fully closed and he breathed around the hard length. Grayson let out a moan that became a mewl of need as he released and bore down again and again.

The young man’s hands were on his hips, urging them to move up and down. Grayson was not using his powers. That would have been the only way for the young man to have the strength to move him. But the need in those frantic touches had him smiling. He opened his eyes once more.

Grayson’s expression was one of abject pleading. Sweat had beaded on his upper lip and forehead as his arousal had grown from banked embers to a roaring fire. The young man clutched at his hips and keened.

Move.

Please.

Move.

I’m going to cum if you don’t!

And I want to cum after feeling you move.

All of these words were unspoken. So Grayson was very capable of communicating without words.

Ryder began to slowly lift himself off of Grayson’s cock. A slow, sensual slide. He shivered as the cock ran along his prostate and a hot, tingling sensation filled him. His hands though were steady as he moved them up Grayson’s stomach, following the lovely lines of his chest. Grayson’s stomach jumped at the touch even as the young man trembled with the effort of not cumming.

Ryder sank back down in one fluid movement and then was on the rise again. Grayson let out a gasp and clutched Ryder’s hips so hard that his knuckles went white. Ryder’s fingers kept moving up past the midpoint of Grayson’s lovely chest, circling around the peaked nipples that could so easily be sucked on and made to bleed. Grayson’s breath hitched in his throat and it was beautiful.

Those tingling strands of heat bloomed and then flooded Ryder. He could feel the arousal all the way to the tips of his fangs. He lifted his hips and inch then pushed down to the root of Grayson’s cock again and again and again. Then he was rising so that the head of Grayson’s lovely member was just about to slip out of his body and then he thrust himself down again so that Grayson’s ball pressed against his ass. Heat and desire were like the flames of the firelight licking his body. He felt consumed by them.

His fingers now were at the hollow of Grayson’s delicate throat. They dipped into that hollowed, followed its contours, tapped along its high ridges and then smoothed the deep valley. Grayson’s eyes were hooded. His pupils were blown wide with desire. His lips were parted and that pink tongue swept out and licked those lips as if to welcome him.

Ryder leaned down and captured that mouth. He tasted Grayson on his tongue. He dragged a fang over it and blood--a thin stream--passed from Grayson’s lips to his. He drank it down.

His whole body reacted to the taste. It was like tasting eternity. That’s what he thought at that moment. Later he wouldn’t understand what that meant. But at that moment he felt he had been waiting for this taste his whole life. Waiting to experience it again. And here it was. The oldest memory. The best memory. But the first time too.

For a moment, he wasn’t in this bed with Grayson, but in another. Firelight painted the furs and pillows that were piled high beneath him and around him. Someone was curled on top of him. His right hand was running through their hair. They were humming.

“Aren’t you glad that we did this?” a voice that he did not know and yearned for asked.

“I am. How could I not be?” His voice, yet not his voice, answered. “But it will cause trouble. The others will see it as a threat. Two of us together--”

“So we should just not love each other then? Because others might be threatened?” That beloved voice was angry and scared. Scared he would regret this.

“No, no, I said I was glad. I do not regret this. I never could. You are… the other half of me,” he admitted in that strange voice.

“Even though I can’t shift into a flock of birds or a wolf or a--”

“You’ve proved you are my match no matter what form I’m in,” he chuckled.

“We did fly together.” The beloved voice was pleased.

“Yes, we did. And we shall again.”

Ryder gasped and he was back in the moment. He had broken off the bloody kiss. He was staring down into Grayson’s face. The young man’s eyes opened and he looked confused. Why had Ryder stopped? He didn’t want it to stop!