Suddenly he's tasting his own blood in a disorienting kiss. Eric's lips are warm only because they're covered with blood. He kisses back, submissively with a whimper dying in his throat, as if Eric might tear his head off if he didn't.

It's a contrast that's starting to mess with his head.

Because he still wants him. To fuck him, to bite into him. To hold him down, fuck him and drain him to within an inch of his life.

to torture him

He moves his hips against his, slowly and tentatively, not knowing if he'll be rewarded with punishment or pleasure...but at this point, the two are one and the same.