Some part of Sable's eldritch mind is processing these facts, absorbing this information, making some mental notes.

The rest of it, however, is completely consumed by the rush of pleasure and power, consumed by Esme's glorious taste.

It moans, voice reverberating inhumanly in its satisfaction.

Then it vaults atop the island and grins savagely. 

"You are dangerously delicious, and I'm going to eat every bite of you. There will be nothing left until I resurrect you."

It lifts her right hand to its lips, wraps its lips around her index and middle fingers, and bites them off with a sharp snapsnap.

Esme has no idea about her supernatural deliciousness situation, and wouldn't be able to process it even if she were told. She is Sable's delicious dinner and that's all that matters. All she wants is to be utterly consumed. All she wants is to hear Sable moan like that again, and again and again and again.

She'll get her wish. Sable leans back a bit, moaning and growling as she chews and swallows. Then she takes another crunching bite, and another, shuddering with satisfaction. She devours the rest of Esme's hand in another few vicious, tearing chomps, then holds her forearm to her lips and rips strips of meat from her arm, tentacles clenching and writhing as she moans.

With every bite there's more of pain and less of Esme, and that's good, that's what she's for. She's for Sable. She's for Sable to hurt. She's for Sable to eat.

Bite after bite, Sable devours her girlfriend, her morsel. She strips her arms and legs bare, working her way up each limb, then eats the bones with cracks and crunches. Soon there's nothing left of Esme but her torso and head, and Sable buries her face in her chest and tears a bite out of her left breast.

Esme is pretty out of it by this point, but she's still lucid enough to want to put her hands in Sable's hair and pull her closer, and to realize that she can't do that anymore, and to find that really hot.

It tears her breasts apart, gorging itself on her soft, creamy flesh. Every bite prompts another shaky moan, another desperate growl. Then it slides down her body and plunges into her cunt, ripping a bloody chunk from the delicate folds.

Oh, fuck, that hurts. That hurts just the way it should.

As Sable gets closer and closer to finishing her meal, every bite gets tastier and more satisfying. Flavour builds on flavour, each piece a subtly distinct note in a delectable chorus.

It savors each ragged, sensitive morsel, then crunches its way through her hips and ass when her pussy is devoured. It works its way up what's left of her body, every bite desperate and ravenous.

There's so little of her left, and less by the second. More and more of her gone, claimed by Sable's teeth.

It makes her feel... loved.

She is loved. Desperately so. And Sable is only letting itself be this ravenously destructive because it knows it can bring her back safely. (And then do something like this again. And again.)

Bite after bite it consumes her, her body vanishing into its mouth with gloriously painful, crunching chomps.

Soon Esme's just a head, kept conscious only by Sable manually oxygenating her brain. It lifts her to its lips and kisses her deeply, lingeringly, adoringly.

There's not much of her left at all, now, but there's enough to kiss back, and enough to be smiling about it.

And then, with a last adoring smile, Sable tips her head back and holds Esme above her, looking down as she stretches her mouth into an inhumanly wide maw.

Then she drops her in and devours her with an enormous crunch.

As the last bite slides down Sable's throat, something completes. The final note in the symphony of flavour, crescendo ramping down into conclusion. The impossibly delicious taste of Esme doesn't feel so moreish anymore; it feels finished. Another taste would just interfere with the delicate balance still lingering on Sable's tongue.

And with that feeling, a new sensation: satiety. Not just the satisfaction of a really good meal, but the fullness of a meal that needs no encore. It spreads through the whole of Sable's being, suffusing every part of her with a lovely languid stillness that wants to be restfully savoured.

There's an energy there, too, a sense that she could lean in the opposite direction and pick up a manic charge from her meal instead, get out into the world and Do Things on the high of a cosmic sugar rush. But if she wants, she can lean this way instead, and curl up somewhere cozy for her first ever food coma, passing up the temporary boost to instead process the essence of Esme into long-term growth.

She sighs in deep satisfaction, stretching and subconsciously shifting into a new form, petite and black-haired. Slowly she walks toward the lounge, where a crackling fire burns in the fireplace. She drops heavily into the pillowpit, nude body flopping down into the pile gracelessly.

With the last shreds of focus left to her, she uses her earlier memorization of Esme's body to rebuild it, then gently sets her soul back into it with a metaphysical headpat and pulls her into a snug embrace.

Oh... cozy...

Esme takes a deep breath, and lets it out a little shakily, and firmly tells herself she doesn't have to get back to work right now, and nestles close.

Haaaaappy inkblot. It wraps everything around her, snuggling her tenderly. "Love you," it murmurs sleepily. "Stayin' here. Food coma. Nev'r hada food coma b'fore."

Some more sleepy nuzzles, and a long, languid, "'mazing girl, loooooove yooouu..."

Cutest sweetest coziest inkblot! Esme gives it a happy nuzzle and finds a tentacle to hug, and settles in for some companionable dozing.

Sable obligingly arranges one of its tentacles in a roughly body-pillow-ish fashion for hugging, yawns contentedly, and dozes as well.

The next few hours pass very cozily, as Sable slowly soaks up power from her meal.

Eventually, it wakes and stretches, presses a gentle kiss to the back of Esme's hair, and pets her tenderly, feeling better than it ever has.