[He gets Erik's pants unzipped and lowered only as much as he needs, he'd had intention of mouthing at the outline of his stiffening length, but those fingers in his hair, tight and deliciously sharp in their grip have Chris arching with a gasp and, though not visible on his knees as he is, he can feel himself growing hard in response. He was a sucker for artfully placed pain.

He looks up at Erik, pupils wide with arousal, but there's still thought there, sharp and turning.

He hadn't let a vampire bite him before. Hadn't had one bite him (to his memory) since Kyle had cornered him over a year ago in his madness. He shouldn't, he was a Death Cleric of the Raven Queen, the undead were, by all rights, his enemy and intended prey, a cause set aside for their situation and the fact many of the undead here were just people and a lot of them kind. A truce-bordering-alliance did not mean baring your neck.

And yet.]

So long as it puts no sway in my head aside my own, you're welcome to show me what niceties your mouth can provide as well.