a musebox for meliorist

He could feel it in her kiss, the way her attention seemed to narrow as he felt her inhale the scent of his blood, and it made him shudder in the most delightful way. He shuddered again at the feel of her fingertips on his skin, at the feel of them simultaneously soothing and reigniting the sting, and at the knowledge that it was his blood she wanted, something so primal and visceral in the way she lifted her bloodied fingers to her mouth to lick. He watched, open-mouthed, gasping for air.