[This time, Kazuya has an inkling of what to expect. Kisses him back as fiercely as Makoto kisses him for how brief it is, not wanting to waste a single bit of whatever affection he can get. It helps ease him into what comes next, the feel of teeth scraping against his throat, the way his nerves alight with anxious energy, and then searing, stinging pain. It's perhaps a little funny, that it feels the exact same as he's used to from other demons tearing at his flesh and consuming, though they'd never made it to his throat.
A sound bubbles forth, hot and wet and pained as his blood is sprayed.. Just about everywhere, coming in pulses with his heartbeat and soaking down his front, down Makoto's front, the bed sheets, and even the wall gets splattered as the pressure finds its way outward. Distantly, he thinks it's a little impressive. Kazuya remembers seeing messy, bloody smears on the ground from where demons had only half consumed their victims, remembers thinking that demons were particularly wasteful, messy creatures. At least he knows now how so much blood could have ended up so far from it's previous host. He's thankful that cleaning will be minimal. A funny thing to think, when someone has their teeth in your throat, tearing chunks from it.
Another sound that's breathy and just as wet as the last echoes from the torn remnants of his throat. Physically, it's not pleasant, to be torn into like he is, but the mental stimulation? The fact that Makoto moans against him, rocks and clings to him like a lifeline, acts without any sort of restraint or care, finally comfortable in being allowed to be, to give into that violent and destructive nature that Kazuya himself knows and harbours...? It's stronger than the displeasure of the sting and burn of torn flesh that tries to knit itself back together, even as it's agitated and torn more. Everything else though? The hand in his hair, the one digging and scratching with blunt nails into his chest to pull him closer? That is delightful, and it's what he focuses on, along side the knowledge that he's being used for Makoto's pleasure. That he's allowing the other demon to do this because it's what he wants, what he desires, and if Kazuya can give him such a thing, he wants to.
The blood, of course, doesn't stop emptying from his carotid, though the flow does significantly lessen after a minute or so. His bodies regenerative properties can keep up, to an extent, but the fact that his wound is forced to stay open gives it a fight on several fronts. It'd be incredibly interesting, if not for the fact that yes, it does make him a little dizzy, blurs and darkens the edges of his vision and yes, makes him a little delirious, if the way he sloppily grabs and grips onto Makoto again and again and again is any indication. As his hand slips from where he actively wants it to be: somewhere he can grip to keep pulling Makoto against him, encourage the rock of his hips and the delicious friction that follows.]
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A sound bubbles forth, hot and wet and pained as his blood is sprayed.. Just about everywhere, coming in pulses with his heartbeat and soaking down his front, down Makoto's front, the bed sheets, and even the wall gets splattered as the pressure finds its way outward. Distantly, he thinks it's a little impressive. Kazuya remembers seeing messy, bloody smears on the ground from where demons had only half consumed their victims, remembers thinking that demons were particularly wasteful, messy creatures. At least he knows now how so much blood could have ended up so far from it's previous host. He's thankful that cleaning will be minimal. A funny thing to think, when someone has their teeth in your throat, tearing chunks from it.
Another sound that's breathy and just as wet as the last echoes from the torn remnants of his throat. Physically, it's not pleasant, to be torn into like he is, but the mental stimulation? The fact that Makoto moans against him, rocks and clings to him like a lifeline, acts without any sort of restraint or care, finally comfortable in being allowed to be, to give into that violent and destructive nature that Kazuya himself knows and harbours...? It's stronger than the displeasure of the sting and burn of torn flesh that tries to knit itself back together, even as it's agitated and torn more. Everything else though? The hand in his hair, the one digging and scratching with blunt nails into his chest to pull him closer? That is delightful, and it's what he focuses on, along side the knowledge that he's being used for Makoto's pleasure. That he's allowing the other demon to do this because it's what he wants, what he desires, and if Kazuya can give him such a thing, he wants to.
The blood, of course, doesn't stop emptying from his carotid, though the flow does significantly lessen after a minute or so. His bodies regenerative properties can keep up, to an extent, but the fact that his wound is forced to stay open gives it a fight on several fronts. It'd be incredibly interesting, if not for the fact that yes, it does make him a little dizzy, blurs and darkens the edges of his vision and yes, makes him a little delirious, if the way he sloppily grabs and grips onto Makoto again and again and again is any indication. As his hand slips from where he actively wants it to be: somewhere he can grip to keep pulling Makoto against him, encourage the rock of his hips and the delicious friction that follows.]