Relaxed doesn't feel like quite the right word to describe the way Kisuke appears to her now, but it's fascinating nonetheless to draw a contrast between his soft words and the toying brush of his fingertips against the direction of a vampire's hands. It makes her wonder, in the back of her mind, if death gods aren't swayed by something so small as a hint of fairy blood in a woman's veins. If there's something more deliberate and cerebral to Kisuke's choice, contrasting sharply with the desperation and instinct of a vampire.

Strange, how his gentleness only inspires further impatience in her chest, not one typically denied as she presses her index finger further between Kisuke's lips, bearing her fingertip down against the flat of his tongue.

"Suck," she instructs him, brow briefly furrowing before she eases her weight down against his body again, hips rolling and starting to pick up pace. Her free hand winds around the back of Kisuke's neck, burying fingertips in the lush curls of his hair again.