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There are a lot of things Sam likes in bed, Benny’s discovered. Having his hair tugged just hard enough to leave him gasping. Benny’s thick, blunt fingers spreading him open, playing with him. The way his nipples are sensitive to the lightest touch.
Or, the way Sam gets off like nothing else with Benny’s teeth in his neck.
They’d discovered it by accident. It had become a weird little thing, sometimes Benny taking some blood from Sam. Not a lot, not even a full meal’s worth, but Sam always smelled so good and Sam had offered. He certainly tasted better than bagged blood. It was like having dessert, really, and Benny had no idea what Sam was getting out of the arrangement, but he was the one who usually pushed Benny for it.
Until that one time Benny took a little more than he planned and Sam ended up grinding against his own hand through his jeans, hard and desperate, and Benny had pulled back with bloody fangs and a grin, having just discovered what is possibly the best thing ever.
Benny’s always found drinking Sam practically orgasmic. Apparently, Sam agrees.
They can’t do it all the time. Sam needs his blood, and they have sex too often for it to be feasible for him to give that much. So it’s always special, always just as explosively orgasmic, when they do it.
They don’t go right to it. Things start off slow that night, a dinner for just the two of them, Benny with his blood and Sam with a steak Benny made. Then they make out on the couch, and by the time Benny has his fingers threaded in Sam’s hair, tugging gently, Sam is breaking the kiss, gasping “bedroom,” so they move.
Benny gets Sam spread naked on the bed, then works his lips over Sam’s torso, tongue flicking at pebbling nipples, while he slicks his fingers and starts to play with Sam’s hole. He starts off teasing and slow, circling the rim before moving on to shallow thrusts until Sam’s letting out a mixture of begging and curses. Only then does he begin in earnest, giving Sam two blunt fingers to work himself down on, then three.
When Sam gets to “get in me right fucking now, Benny, or I swear to God–”, Benny withdraws his fingers and slicks his cock before sitting back against the headboard.
Sam gets the hint and manages to pull himself upright, moving to straddle Benny’s lap before immediately sinking down onto Benny’s cock. He groans and drops his head onto the vampire’s shoulder, his nails digging into Benny’s back. Benny brings his hands to Sam’s hips, circling his thumbs against the skin while Sam adjusts.
It doesn’t take very long, and soon enough Sam’s moving, fast, hard, rough, chasing pleasure. He’s moaning louder and louder, but not quite there yet. They both know what will get him there, what he really wants, but Benny waits.
“Want it?” he grunts.
“Yesss,” Sam hisses.
“Love it when I bite ya,” Benny muses. “Makes you come so hard, doesn’t it? So desperate for it.”
Sam doesn’t even say anything, just lets out a high-pitched whine, and Benny decides that enough is enough. He tightens his hold on Sam’s hips, pulls him as far down on Benny’s dick as he can get, and holds him still.
Then, he bends close to his neck, gently licks his favorite spot, and bites.
Someday, he’ll have to set up one of those video cameras when they do this, so he can see Sam’s face, watch his reactions. As it is, in the moment, Benny is always so consumed by his own feelings of overwhelming bliss to pay attention to anything else.
Of course, he always knows when he’s taken enough. He wants more, but he’s not going to do that to Sam. Besides, the way he can tell when he’s had enough is so perfect–Sam’s scream of his name breaking Benny’s focus, Sam’s hole contracting around Benny’s cock, his fingernails digging deeper into Benny’s shoulders, his come spurting between them–that Benny can’t help but break away, if for nothing else than the fact that Sam coming is, as almost always, enough to push him over the edge.
When they’re both done, Benny pulls out and they both lay on the bed, getting their breath back. He rolls slightly to examine the wound on Sam’s neck. It’s small and neat, as always–Benny is always careful with Sam–and he licks over it twice, getting the last droplets of blood.
Sam sighs at the touch, then bats Benny away and settles deeper into the pillows. “Tired,” he mumbles.
Benny smiles softly. These nights always drive Sam absolutely wild, but the powerful orgasm and the loss of blood always leaves him exhausted afterwards.
“I know, Sugar,” Benny murmurs, pulling Sam close into his side. “You can sleep.”
Sam doesn’t need further encouragement, drifting off promptly. Benny just watches him for a moment, licking his own lips for any last vestiges of that wonderful taste, before kissing Sam’s forehead and lying down himself.