Pam likes the feel of panic. It makes Jemma's blood flow faster, warmer.
But then she strokes Jemma's cheek with her thumb, slowly sweeping back and forth, in sync with the strokes of her tongue and the rhythmic pull of her mouth.
Her blood is so, so sweet. There's a certain pureness to it that Pam hasn't tasted in a long time. It takes every ounce of restraint to keep from sucking at the wound too hard. She growls a little, kittenish for a century-old vampire, but deep enough to be a bit disconcerting to a human.
A warm trickle of blood escapes the corner of her mouth and travels down along Jemma's collarbone.
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But then she strokes Jemma's cheek with her thumb, slowly sweeping back and forth, in sync with the strokes of her tongue and the rhythmic pull of her mouth.
Her blood is so, so sweet. There's a certain pureness to it that Pam hasn't tasted in a long time. It takes every ounce of restraint to keep from sucking at the wound too hard. She growls a little, kittenish for a century-old vampire, but deep enough to be a bit disconcerting to a human.
A warm trickle of blood escapes the corner of her mouth and travels down along Jemma's collarbone.