Around every weekend, you were hungry. It was a half-perk of being a Vampire.

Dutch was always your 'victim', in a sense. He always complied. Willingly. You never minded, especially with all the pretty noises he made. It was like a show to go with your meal.

You were in his tent, the back flaps open to look out at the lake. You straddled him, feasting on his neck as he hummed softly, hands holding your waist tightly.

"Beautiful. Must have been hungry tonight." He murmured in your ear softly.