The thought is brief, passing as quickly as it comes. There's little room left in his brain for much else, even the promise of climax. He finds himself back in the thick of pleasure, mouth slightly agape so his fangs are noticeable and glint in the bare light of the room.

His hands grip her so tightly, his clawed hand might sink in too deep. There will definitely be bruises from the metal hand. Still, it's like he can't get her close enough, and can't bury himself deep enough in her.