That was what he liked to hear. That little hitch in the man's breath, the little stutter of his heart. It called to something in Raylan that had little to do with hunger, but in ways felt very similar. It was certainly just as difficult to ignore. He did, however, need to remember that he couldn't bite Tim again. The man needed his blood for more important things at the moment.

"Maybe they outta do it more often," was all he said before kissing Tim again. And again it wasn't the bruising sort of force, but it was just as intense, just as demanding. But in a vastly different way.

Rather than try for anything else, he just gave in. He could have played at the fact that he was only giving Tim what HE wanted. Making good on his word. But damn if he didn't want it, too. He pressed down hard against the man, chest to chest, hips to hips. There was nothing passive, or simply "making good" with the way he moved his hips against Tim's.