Forest
He didn't smell bad, and anyone undrinkable always smelled off.
"Well thank you," Forest said before one hand carefully tilted his head back while the other rested on his shoulder. Red filled her vision as she felt her canines lengthen into throbbing fangs. Her small tongue flickered out, soft and delicately wet, and laved the line of his pulse. Then ever so gently she sank her fangs into the pulse of his life.
It was a razor kiss; sharp and soft at the same time, a mixture of pleasure and pain that was maddening to most.
At the first rush of hot, thick, sweet, coppery life Forest felt as if she had gotten struck by lightning. Pure power rippled through her, filling her with warmth and life. She thrummed with it as she clutched him and began to drink.