"You think I like this? You think I like being what I am? You think I like getting the urge to slice open someone’s neck? To suck the blood right out of their body, leaving them lifelessly lying their on the floor?" He paused. "You think I like that I’m so attracted to other people, but it’s not for them; just to fulfill my thirst? I hate it. I hate that I'm so in love with you that I feel the need to testify myself to you. I fucking hate it. But want to know what I hate most? I hate that sometimes I look at you and all I want to do is ... is... wrap my body within yours. Run my tongue against your neck; skim my teeth along the wet skin. I want to penetrate deep into your flawlessness, lap up the scarlet fluid and latch to you. I hate that I want to taste you. I hate myself that." He paused again. "But honestly, I’m okay with hating myself." With that he kissed me deeply.
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