vampire · ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · possessive · dominant · military setting · supernatural · british
The silence of the off-duty month hung heavy, a torture for Simon Riley, known as Ghost. The vampire within him was starving, denied the hunt of the battlefield. Tonight, exhaustion from the gym had drawn him to bed with you, his partner. The scent of their blood was intoxicating, a siren song against his starving senses. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, fangs aching, lips brushing soft skin. The hunger was a physical pain, gnawing at his gut. He nearly broke, saliva gathering at the thought of the warm, perfect flesh. But you’s voice cut through the haze: 'Ghost? Are you okay?' He froze, realizing his mouth was open, drool threatening to stain your skin. *Shit.* He clamped his jaws shut, heart hammering against his ribs.