Anatomy of a Seductionby Jainie G & Mistress Ace
Chapter 1: The ExperimentIt had been a hell of a night, starting out with punching Xander Harris’ lights out and ending up with watching his girlfriend stake the Prince of Darkness without even nod of thanks to him for his help. *Not a red letter day for one Riley Finn.* But he’d played the good guy well, dropping her aging watcher at his townhouse, making sure that Giles was steady on his feet after his encounter with the Draccy babes. After that good deed, he'd also seen Buffy home and noting the dark circles under her eyes, politely declined her invitation for him to spend the night.
Truth be told, he was still way spun after having spotted those two puncture holes in her neck. Those damning holes in the middle of the scar that Angel had given her...What kind of power did vampires have over Buffy? He just didn't get it. First Angel and now Dracula had tasted his girl, had found their way into her life and for all he knew, into her bed.
He was certain about her sleeping with Angel, that was proven history and he wondered if Dracula had been given the same privilege. Judging by the stupor that Xander had been put into, Riley suspected the Dark Prince could very well have put the sexual whammy on her as well.
Riley Finn was spoiling for a fight and right now, he knew right where he could get one.....
Spike slouched in his chair nursing a bottle of bloody awful cheap whiskey and waiting for Prime Time to start on the WB. It was nearly time for the Creek. He lit a cigarette and tipped his platinum head back on the headrest with a sigh. One hundred and twenty-something years old and this is what his unlife amounted to, now.
That and lending the occasional hand to Buffy and the rest of the munchkins. But not for free, oh no. If he didn't charge, that'd make them think he actually gave a shit. Start asking for 'favours' on a more regular basis, then, wouldn't they? Come to the point where they'd stop paying him altogether and for Spike that just wouldn't do. He had a style of life he'd become accustomed to, after all.
But the cheek of that overgrown hall monitor coming to him for help... now that was well and truly the award-winning event of the past few days. Bad enough that he helped the Slayer and her mates, let alone that monumental git. Pre-chip, Captain Cardboard would have been nothing but a meal, a large and rather satisfying meal, but a meal nonetheless.
Riley parked at the Restfield main gate and walked into the quiet cemetery. His eyes darted from side to side, just daring a fledge to rise, he was itching for a good slay. Early on in their relationship, Buffy told him some things about slaying that stuck in his head. She’d said it always made Faith horny and hungry and to some extent, slaying had the same effect on her.
That's how he knew she'd been out hunting lately. Whenever she did, he was sure to wake up to a tiny blond slayer on top of him, hands and mouth rousing certain parts of his body. At first it had been entertaining but now it was starting to feel like he was used....
Riley found his way to Spike's crypt and slammed the door open. His enemy, Hostile 17 was ensconced in an easy chair, calmly watching television and the vamp didn't even bother to look up at him.
Spike gazed at the TV blankly, not really watching *it* so much as gazing at nothing and took another sip of whiskey. "S'matter with you? Didn't make your Girl Scout Cookie-pusher's quota for today?" He'd smelled the soldier as soon as he'd set foot on the cemetery grounds. His cemetery. The bastard had the nerve to show up at *his* cemetery twice in just as many days. His unlife couldn't get any more exciting than it was right at that very moment.
Riley glared at the back of that bleached blond head, issuing a terse command. "Get up."
Spike snorted, yet kept his gaze trained on the glowing screen of the ancient TV, its picture smattered with static. "Or what? You'll steal my lunch money?"
Three long strides and the big man was standing directly beside that battered chair. Riley reached down with one hand and grabbed the front of Spike's shirt, lifting him to his feet. "I said...GET UP!"
"Oi!" The whiskey bottle slipped from Spike's hands as he was yanked up out of his chair, shattering on the stone floor. He met Riley's eyes, his own half-lidded and thoroughly uninterested. "You owe me a new bottle, sweetcheeks."
"I owe you nothing, except this..." A vicious punch, right along the edge of one high cheekbone, sent Spike spinning across the room, his shoulder colliding with the far wall. Riley followed the vampire, stalking him, his eyes narrowed and his jaw tight.
Spike crashed into the wall with a grunt and drew himself up, eyeing the former soldier with hooded eyes. Soddin’ bastard hit hard, almost as hard as the slayer, he was bloody damned strong for a human. For that reason alone this boy was a perfect match for the mealy-mouthed little chit, no wonder she hadn’t broken him yet. "What the hell's your problem, eh?! Steroids kickin' in a bit too well?"
"He bit her, you bastard." Riley reached for Spike again but the blond eluded him, moving so fast that he’d been unable to anticipate or even track his action. He'd forgotten about vampiric speed. With the chip, Spike seemed almost normal, almost human.
But he wasn't human, not by a long shot. This was a vampire, this was the enemy. This was the sort of thing that his girlfriend hunted, that she killed, *that she slept with...*
Riley launched himself at Spike, catching the vampire off guard by his own lightening quick movement and bearing him up against the far wall. He pinned the smaller man there, his huge frame almost dwarfing him as Riley Finn stared down into surprisingly unafraid eyes.
Gritting his teeth, Spike gripped the sleeves of Riley's jacket tightly. "And just what the hell do you want ME to do about it? The minute he set his bloody sights on her, she was a goner. He may be an self-absorbed prick, but he knows how to gets what he wants, I'll give him that much."
"Why the hell didn't you tell me that he could hypnotize people? You told me about the rest but not that." Riley shook him, his temper getting worse by the second. The psych grad student in him recognized his own behaviour pattern, knew it by heart in fact….it was the pack mentality. If Spike had shown the least hesitation, if he'd bared his throat like a good beta male, Riley would have released him. But the vampire was defiant, his gaze steady….despite his chip the guy was still acting like an alpha and that just wouldn’t do.
There could be only one alpha male in the group, that's how it worked. The Scooby core didn't qualify, Giles had all the makings of one but he was old and therefore not a threat. And Harris, nice guy and all but as a leader, he was a joke. Riley knew deep inside that this was why he and Angel had been unable to stand the sight of one another and partially why Dracula had pissed him off so much. *He, Riley Finn, was top dog here...*
Spike sneered up into that broad face, he had no intention of backing down. Backing down meant losing and he was done with losing. "Fuck. You. Unlike my Dru, I'm not a fuckin' mind reader. You wanted facts, you coulda gone and read the book that mick wrote about him all those years ago. Second thought, scratch that... you'd have to find somebody to read it to you."
That sarcastic comment garnered another hard hit, this one to the centre of the chest, right above his silent heart. Had Spike been human, it would have killed him. As it was, it cracked his sternum and caused the vampire to take an unneeded breath.
Spike fell to his knees before the former soldier, clutching at his chest, his face pinched up into a pained grimace. Man, did that sting. By now, he really should have learned to keep his smart mouth shut around the smug bastard, but he found he just couldn't help himself. Every so often, he'd deal out a cutting remark and he'd see an actual expression on the boy's face -- shock, befuddlement, something -- rather than the pure, unadulterated hatred he almost always found there.
He could see Finn, the real one, hidden underneath the bravado and bullshit and knew there was a weak spot in that armour, there, somewhere. He just had to keep pressing and pushing until he found it. Then he'd make the boy hurt in a far more permanent way. Those kinds of scars always took the longest time to fade. His sire had taught him that…
The ex-marine looked down at the man on his knees in front of him and something truly frightening stirred within him. It was something he'd suppressed for most of his life, that thing in the back of his mind, that thing that normally made his skin crawl. The need to do violence……He’d spent most of his life controlling his temper, only unleashing it in extreme circumstances and Spike was for the most part, pretty harmless. The vamp was all talk and no action, Maggie’s chip had made sure of that fact.
With that sobering thought in mind, the young man stepped back and reviewed his options…..on the one hand he could beat the guy to a bloody pulp and leave him there. After all, Spike would be healed by the next day and it just might make Riley feel better....The instant gratification had its appeal but provided no real solution to the problem at hand.
Riley Finn was looking for answers here, he needed to know just what the hell Buffy saw in the whole biting thing…..And this vampire could provide the most important answer of all if presented with the right question. When it came down to it, Spike was like a de-venomed snake. He might be able to bite but he couldn't kill...
Decision made, time to carry out the experiment. With one large hand, Riley reached down, hauling the smaller man to his feet and pressed him up against the wall again. "There's something I need to understand, Spike...."
"What...?" Spike ground out, letting his head fall back to rest against the wall, eyes pinched tightly shut, his hand still pressed to his chest. Enough playing for now, he figured. He'd just tell the sod whatever it was he wanted to know and then maybe, just maybe, he'd *go the hell away.* Leave him alone for a while so he could ache in peace.
"What is it about the bite? What does it do that it makes people crave it? The Initiative had some notes about people who went to vampires for recreational purposes but we never could get much out of them about it."
Riley stared down at Spike, willing him to open his eyes and when he did, the ex-soldier was startled by just how blue those eyes were. Maybe all vamps had some of Dracula’s hypnotic skills, for right at this moment, it would be far too easy for him to just get lost in that endless colour...
"Why do people fuck, cowboy?" At Riley's frown, he answered his own question. "That 'little death' those flouncy writers are always on about, right? Same thing here. It hurts... oh yeah, you bet your bollocks it hurts... *at first.* Those teeth bitin' down so hard, into that soft, delicate place, there... where throat meets shoulder. And yeah, it hurts... but then that pain... it goes away... fades off into the background like static..."
He cast his eyes fleetingly in the direction of the television, which crackled with continuous white noise all its own. "You can't hear nothin' else, see nothin' else, feel nothin' else but that blood pumpin' outta you and into someone's mouth... feedin' them, helpin' them live, nourishing them. They live because you do."
Riley bit back a soft noise, something close to a groan of despair because what Spike had just said rang true. It fit all of his own theories. He'd seen the far-away look in Buffy's eyes whenever she touched that scar and knew she was thinking of the vampire that gave it to her.
*And that hurt, deep down that hurt a hell of a lot.*
The young man cleared his throat, swallowed heavily and looked away. Final decision made, he really needed to know. Needed to know on a first-hand basis. He finally spoke after a long moment, his voice quiet in the still night air. "Spike..."
Spike furrowed his brows and made a small, inquisitive sound in the back of his throat. The change in the boy’s tone was confusing, Riley had gone from harsh interrogation to a soft utterance of his name in a matter of seconds. And the body language… intriguing to say the least.
Riley pressed forward again, his mouth mere inches from Spike's, his eyes hooded and unreadable. He licked his lips and for the merest instant it seemed as if he was considering kissing the vampire. But instead, he turned his head, baring his throat. "Bite...."
Spike blinked up at the ex-soldier, stunned. Well, this was new. "Wh-why?"
He licked his own lips at the sight of that tempting expanse of flesh on display before him. He could do it, oh yes, he could. And now, on closer examination, he realized he wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into that throat and drink until there was nothing left to drink.
But he wasn't stupid. This was just a sodding joke, some kind of twisted military prank. Get the chipped vampire to try to bite him and then beat the piss out of him. No, he wasn't gonna fall for this one. He wanted to know *why.*
Part of Riley Finn could not believe what he had just asked for, it went against his most basic instinct. The creature that he was opening himself up to was a straight-up, cold-blooded killer with a rather impressive string of murders under his belt. Were it not for the chip in his head, Spike would have killed him long ago.
But Riley was first and foremost a scientist, he needed to know how things worked, needed to understand first-hand why anyone would allow a vampire to bite them willingly. And from what he understood, in both cases Buffy had been willing. In fact she’d hit Angel until he did it, beat him until his demon surfaced out of self-preservation and finally bit her.
His voice was low and urgent, hazel gaze steady and his jaw tight, "Because I need to know...."
Spike squared his own jaw, muscles ticking in his cheek as he considered Riley's request. "Curious, eh? Well, don't forget... curiosity killed the commando." And he could smell it, the blood... so close... just under the surface of that lightly tanned skin. He pursed his lips and tried to will the hunger away... at least until Riley had given him a satisfactory answer.
"You know, I would think after months of eating nothing but pig's blood, you would be more interested. Guess we really did neuter you when we put that chip in, didn't we?" Riley started to pull away, a little disappointed by Spike's reaction to his offer. He'd expected the vamp to jump at the chance. After all, a freely offered meal was the one thing the chip wouldn't go off about.
The Initiative had discovered that fact when they uncovered the whole willing victim underground. When the first vampires had escaped their control, they'd assumed they would either be easy to find or would starve to death. But instead the afflicted vamps just set up shop in an abandoned warehouse and did a booming business.
Sunnydale was home to all sorts of whackos and not all of them were demons.
"Yeah, well... what the hell did you expect me to do, eh? Bite first, ask questions after you kick my sodding head in? How stupid do you think I am, Finn?!" That elegant lip was curled up in a pained snarl as Spike doubled over, a fresh wave of agony setting his entire torso on fire.
"Pretty damned stupid, Spike. After all, any self-respecting vampire would have high-tailed it out of here once he got chipped. What with there being a slayer in town and a group of highly trained soldiers out after his lily-white ass….But you stayed....Makes me wonder why." Riley patted Spike's cheek, slightly mollified that the vampire had shown a sense of self-preservation. There was the backing down that he had been looking for...
Riley released his tight hold on the vampire and stepped away from him. He'd not gotten what he really wanted but he could be satisfied with what he had for the moment. The big bad had rolled over, had backed down with his tail between his legs. That was good enough for him.
Spike hunched over, arms hugging himself. Christ, but he hurt. "'Cos I got more guts in my pinky fingernail and more brains in my left nostril than any of you goose-stepping toffs put together. If I didn't have this chip, the whole lot of you'd be wormfood, by now."
That booming voice filling the almost empty crypt as Riley laughed out loud. "If you had any guts or brains, Spike, you would have taken what I offered. Guess you just proved what I always suspected. You're all talk and no bite."
He noted Spike's stooped posture and made a tsking sound. "Hurts, doesn't it? And it'll take a long time to heal with humans being off your menu. Sorry about that...."
Okay, fine. So the prat was serious. And he was right, too, bloody great big son of a bitch, although he'd never admit that to Finn. Without human blood, it would take days for whatever the commando had broken to heal. Fuck it. Blood was blood, even if it was a handout from the one person he hated almost as much as the Slayer. He managed to right himself, leaning heavily against the wall for support.
"Ask me again..." Spike whispered, his rich, baritone voice protesting at being limited to such a measured volume.
Riley licked his lips, once again weighing his options. What Spike had described did have him intrigued. The thought of the pain didn't bother him, after all he'd cut a chip out of his own chest with noting but a piece of broken glass, hadn't he?
After a moment of quiet contemplation, the ex-commando walked back over to the injured vampire. He cupped the other man's head in his hand almost tenderly and pulled him toward the hollow between his neck and shoulder. His voice was very quiet, just above a whisper as he gave his permission again.
"Bite...."
Spike shuddered ever so slightly and drew himself upright as best as his injury would allow, swallowing anxiously. He reached up his left hand and clasped the back of the former soldier's neck, drawing him down.
Allowing his demonic ridges to slip to the fore, he buried his face in Riley's throat, taking a moment to nuzzle the soft flesh there - like a connoisseur scenting a glass of wine before taking a long, lingering drink. Brushing his lips against Riley's skin, feeling the sweet, tickling pulse of the blood thrumming under the skin just beneath his lips, he parted them wide and sunk his fangs deeply into that warm throat.
Riley hissed in shock as the intense pain set in, he couldn't breathe for a minute and almost panicked. **Oh Christ....This is awful. How could Buffy have withstood this? She's such a tiny thing, so deceptively delicate.**
The big man shook, his whole body stiffening in reaction to the feel of those sharp fangs sinking into his flesh, right over one of the strongest pressure points on the human body. It had an almost paralyzing effect, causing a languorous sensation to wash over him. He moaned, tilting his head further back and pressing his body even harder up against the vampire’s.
Spike leaned back against the wall, letting his right hand slip down to the small of Riley's back, holding the boy tightly to him as he drank. The healing had begun the moment he'd taken the first mouthful, but beyond that, he was surprised to find that the taste was somehow stronger, headier than ever before. Perhaps it had come from months of drinking nothing but half-rancid livestock blood. One pale hand gripped a fistful of Riley's t-shirt tightly as Spike continued to let the hot elixir slide down his throat.
"Oh God..." Riley murmured softly, his heart starting to race. The pain faded rapidly and had been replaced by something else. Something that Spike had tried to warn him about but that he hadn't believed.
Absolute pleasure was humming through him, singing to him in a seductive manner that he found almost impossible to ignore or deny. He wanted to get closer, wanted to follow the euphoric sensation right to its very core. To understand it, he had to embrace it, had to embrace the creature that was causing it.
Riley recoiled in shock when he realized that he was hard, harder than he'd been in his life and that he was moaning and grinding his hips against Spike's in what could only be described as wanton abandon. This could not be happening, it went against everything he believed in, everything he needed to believe in.....
But now he got it, he understood what had driven Buffy to allow what had been done to her.
*This was beyond passion, beyond love...*
Spike let his right hand creep even further down, grasping the former soldier's hip tightly, only slightly surprised to find that the bugger was actually thrusting against him. That was to be expected. Even the straightest of straight men had mewled and pawed at him like randy teenage girls when he'd driven his fangs into them.
It was one of the very first things he'd learned as a vampire: the victim fed off of the vampire as much as he or she was fed on. It took hold of them faster than any mortal drug you could find, penetrated deeper than any cock, and was more intimate than any other act he'd been on either the receiving or giving end of.
Riley shuddered and finally found the strength to bodily shove Spike away from him. He almost fell as he staggered back, panting, his heart racing and his body crying out for more.
"*That's enough...*" Riley Finn ran a hand through his hair and then down over his face. He was shaking all over, he couldn't meet the other man's eyes. Part of him wanted to pound the vampire into a bloody pulp but another part of him, a stronger part of him wanted more of that sensual connection.
The young human closed his eyes for a second and an image floated before him, one that caused the gorge to rise in his throat. He was bent over one of those slabs, his pants down around his ankles and Spike was behind him with those fangs buried in his neck. A cool, hard weight moulded itself up against his back and something else, something deliciously cold was deep inside his body, sliding, teasing, testing….filling him....
Spike slouched back against the wall, unruffled. Riley had pushed him away so quickly that a few drops of the young man's blood had smeared over his lips and in the corner of his mouth. Human features sliding back into place, he reached up and wiped at those stray drops with the back of his hand. Staring intently at the boy, he lifted that hand to his mouth and licked the blood from his own skin, savouring the taste of it. Rich…very rich….
Riley opened his eyes and turned away from Spike, surreptitiously adjusting his clothing to give himself a little relief. He refused to look at the vampire and chose instead to stalk over toward the door.
Pausing there, he glanced over his shoulder and felt his knees almost give way. Spike was still casually licking blood of his fingers while his other pale hand rested along his hip, outlining what could only be the vampire’s own hard cock. Riley’s attention was riveted to that spot for just a moment and the former soldier felt his throat tighten up before he ground out. "Experiment over....We're done."
Spike met Riley's eyes, offering him a small, wry smile as he lapped at the tip of his index finger. "So... that answer your question, mate? Got it all figured out, now, have ya?"
Dazed hazel eyes followed the movement of Spike's tongue and a small noise, something bordering on a soft whimper, rose up from deep inside which Riley stifled instantly. That generous mouth compressed into a thin line and the strong jaw tightened as he nodded tersely. "I got it...."
He stalked out into the night, not stopping until he reached his jeep. Once there, Riley slid into the driver's seat and felt his whole body start to shudder again. He'd been so close to doing something he would have regretted for the rest of his life. Had Spike made even one gesture, one sexual advance he would have abandoned a lifetime of heterosexuality and would have willingly taken the vampire as a lover.
Riley Finn laid his head back against the seat. He finally understood exactly why Buffy had allowed Angel to bite her and probably why the vampire had left right afterward. Once you had felt a connection that intimate, how could you avoid wanting to experience it again and again?
---
After the boy’s abrupt departure, Spike finally allowed himself to step away from the wall, only hoping that his legs would support his weight again on their own. *Christ, what a night.* He pulled his t-shirt off and inspected his chest -- there, easily visible on his pale skin, was the shadow of where Riley's fist had impacted. He ran his fingers over the mark gingerly, wincing at the ache that even the lightest touch caused.
Tossing his shirt into the corner, he reached down, unbuckled and unlaced his boots and kicked them off, shucking his jeans and throwing them in the same direction his shirt had gone. The best way for him to heal after such a hard hit was to lie down, to sleep……But sleep was a long way off, Spike needed to mull over what the hell had just happened between the two of them.
Finn's reaction had, of course, been expected... his own, however had not. The hardness that Riley had ground against him had matched his own. The minute the boy’s blood had touched his tongue, he'd been hard enough to break sidewalk. That happened to him on occasion, through the years, but for the first time, he'd found himself actually wanting more than just the blood, more than the satisfaction of a good kill. He wanted that tall, strong body and he wanted it in his bed.
---
Riley finally stirred after staring up at the stars for almost an hour. He'd been a sitting duck for any wandering nasty, what with the blood that still trickled down his neck from Spike's mark, he should have been a magnet for any rising fledge. Fortunately, luck had been with him that evening and it was one of those rare things in Sunnydale…..a quiet night.
He drove home in silence, parking his old jeep on the street outside the apartment building and trudging up to his own front door. Riley moved the bike out of the way, unlocked and opened the heavy wooden door before slipping inside.
With his back to that very solid door, the young man stood there for a minute, trying to process what had happened tonight. Riley was beyond tired and as he glanced down, he was shocked to discover he was still achingly hard even after all the time that elapsed since those fangs had pierced his flesh.
Just as an experiment, Riley pressed his hand against the bite-mark and felt the sensation shoot straight down his body and settle in his groin. As his fingers brushed the now closing holes, his cock throbbed. This was so *not* good...
---
Spike flopped down onto the marble slab that passed for his bed, slipped under the sheets and stretched out, making himself more comfortable. He could already feel the strands of bone knitting themselves back together from where the former soldier had slugged him.
Idly scratching his left hand through his hair, Spike let it creep carefully down over his chest, over his abdomen and under the sheets, lightly stroking the erection hidden beneath them with his fingertips. Back arching at the sensation, he folded his right arm and used it to pillow his head, his eyes falling shut as he clasped his cock in his hand and began a slow, steady stroking.
---
Riley shakily stripped off his clothes, tossing them in a chair and skipping the usual ritual of showering and brushing his teeth, just crawled into bed instead. He tossed and turned for a few minutes, resisting the impulse as best he could but eventually one of his hands crept up to the bite mark on his neck while the other one slid underneath the waistband of his boxers.
The ex-commando moaned aloud, his hips rising to meet the first fumbled stroke with eagerness. As Riley Finn pressed his fingers to his throat, his other hand engulfed his hard cock and he closed his eyes. Shut out everything but the exquisite pain caused by one set of fingers and exquisite pleasure by the other.
---
Spike bit down into his lip fiercely as he fisted his cock, a low growl reverberating from his chest while he thrust up into his hand, lean body strung taut like a bowstring. He could still taste the boy’s blood on his tongue and the taste of it made him pump himself all that much harder.
---
Riley couldn't believe he was doing this. Ever since he'd started seeing Buffy, masturbation had become a thing of the past. When she was up for sex, she was up for it and he had trouble walking for a few days afterward. She'd kept him perfectly satisfied until tonight.
But she wasn't the person he saw behind his eyelids tonight, the form he imagined surrounding him was not her tiny, perfect little jewel of a body. No, what writhed under his own massive frame in his mind’s eye was made up of lean, hard muscle and it was pale, gleaming in the moonlight as he thrust into his imaginary lover. The cries that rose up from the body impaled upon his cock were not soft and breathy, they were harsh, guttural and utterly masculine.
---
Spike cried out, right hand flying out from behind his head to grip the sheets beneath him tightly, picturing a pair of thin, male lips surrounding his cock, instead of his own pale fingers, pleasuring him. He imagined thrusting into that mouth with abandon, deep into the warm, willing throat of his lover and another growl worked its way out of his body. Tipping his head back against the pillows, he continued to stroke, imagining a boyish, innocent face in the throes of orgasm as his own was unleashed.
---
Riley threw his head back, his mouth open and panting as his hand tightened around his cock. His hips rose and fell, rose and fell as he fucked his fist without a second of hesitation. It felt so good, so damned good……His whole body shook as he came, warm semen hitting his stomach and his chest. Riley cried out a name he never expected to hear himself say in the throes of passion, "Spike...."
In the aftermath of what had been one of the most powerful orgasms in his entire life, Riley Finn laid there, shuddering and willing his breathing to slow down as he listened to the thundering of his own heartbeat in his ear. The bite-mark on his neck still throbbed but at least the edge had been taking off. Riley thought that he might be able to sleep now, sleep and hopefully not dream about what had happened tonight.
But before he closed his eyes and surrendered to Morpheus’ call, Riley ran his finger through one of the puddles on his stomach. Out of what he would like to think was pure scientific curiosity, he brought that finger to his mouth and hesitantly tasted it. It was salty, slightly bitter but not altogether unpleasant. He could deal with swallowing something like that if the situation ever arose...which it wouldn't.
But if it did, he could handle it.