Hark the Blood Angels sing

His well muscled body was slammed against the wall, sweat beading over heated flesh as he felt that rough and wet tongue dragging along the side his neck. The scratch of those known fangs made his body thrum with excitement at what was happening. It sang inside him, the red thirst licking at the very edges of his mental command, demanding more of what he was receiving. Rafen dug his nails deep into Sachiel’s back as the Sanguinary high priest increased his thrusts. As the high priest gave another thrust, Rafen’s head connected with the heavy steel wall. His own sharpened fangs cut against the meat of his tongue, crimson vitae of both himself and the primarch seeping from his mouth with a moan. Sachiel’s lips were on his own in an instant to feed off the ferrous liquid, the kiss and blood a heady reaction to his body. The high priest always had this affect on him, making him feel as though he was basking in the light of the primarch himself. Rafen could swear that he could feel the pulse of blood in Sachiel’s erection, of course the actions that brought them to this were still fresh in his mind.

Earlier on the Bellus, the chapter had been giving their prayers for their victory on Cybele. The priests of the chapter had been allowing the battle-brothers to all drink of the iconic grails that they carried to mimic the Red Grail held by Cobulo back on Baal. Arkio had drank before him, but Sachiel had claimed that his younger siblings had drank what remained of the rich blood. The Sanguinary high priest poured more of the precious vitae into the goblet from a small crystal vial that he had within his velvet bag at his waist. For a moment he had been hesitant about drinking what was sitting within the goblet; the metallic tang of blood filled his nostrils and only made him salivate before he snatched up the chalice and drank deeply of the rich life giving fluid.

Over the course of the hours after prayers, Rafen felt his suit becoming far too hot and uncomfortable and he began to worry about his suit malfunctioning. As he began to head to see Lucion to possibly see if there was a problem with his suit, Sachiel halted in his path. “Well well Rafen, does something trouble you this moment?” He didn’t even have time to react as he felt the high priest’s lips devour his own as he was pressed against the wall, soon dragged to Sachiel’s personal chamber. Such things led to what was happening now; a hand wrapped around Rafen’s cock, the roughened feel of the priest’s battle worn hand on his hardened erection was something the warrior enjoyed so much, bucking into that stroking hand that was so well timed with Sachiel’s thrusts. Rafen leaned in close, biting down on Sachiel’s throat, tasting that thick rich blood that flowed into his mouth as the flesh gave way. He felt that heated coil of arousal snap within his body, semen spilling forth onto his stomach and the high priest’s hand. As his body shivered and trembled from the remains of his orgas, he felt the hot spray of sperm from the Sanguinary priest shoot into his body, the two men soon collapsing against the wall and sliding to the floor.