Asher kisses Nathaniel hungrily, twisting his fingers.

"Good. Because I like saying it, mon chat," he purrs, rolling them over in one smooth movement.

He loves that he doesn't have to worry about Nathaniel having fed anyone else, that he has first dibs, as it were, on Nathaniel's sweet blood. Sliding eagerly down Nat's body, he kisses the inside of his thigh, over his bitemark, moaning softly.

"You smell divine," he breathes.