Page 21 of Bite Me

“Guess I’ll have to do you there, then,” he rumbled, nosing along the underside of my jaw and grinding his hips in lewd, undulating circles against my ass before pulling back to gaze at my reflection in the mirror.

“Jesus, you look…” He didn’t even finish. Just trailed off and stared, like he was mentally undressing me and also maybe jerking off to the imagery while he was at it. “I’m gonna escort you everywhere and glare at anyone who looks at you.”

“Gonna glare at the whole party? It’s a campus-wide event. There’ll be at least two hundred horny people in costumes. Maybe three.” I snickered, though honestly his territoriality only got me hotter. Now I was the one losing focus, sucking in a deep breath as Eric curled the tips of his fingers, nails scoring over my pecs and leaving thin pink welts behind.

“If I have to.” His mouth barely brushed my throat before skimming down, teeth grazing my collarbone. “Fuck me, you look incredible,” he murmured, finally getting a complete compliment out. More or less. He pressed his lips to the side of my neck and sucked lightly. For a second I thought he might mark me with a hickey and… I would’ve been fine with that.

“Did that last night, in case you forgot.” He hadn’t, and I didn’t even have to look at him to confirm it. I’d come into the kitchen from where I was studying at the dining table to see Eric squinting at a bottle of ground cumin. Something about the way he’d checked the label, then given it a few measured shakes over the pot of soup on the stove had gotten to me. Next thing I knew, I had him folded over the counter next to the bubbling pot as I spread his cheeks and fucked his hole with my tongue. Eric had braced his hand so hard on the edge of the counter I thought he might crack the laminate, then proceeded to whisper filthy shit as he blew his load all over the lower cabinets with my dick buried inside him. I felt kind of bad for whoever moved in after us. There were few places in this apartment that hadn’t beensplattered with spunk at some point, even though we obviously cleaned it up. The kitchen probably got the worst of it, though, outside of the bedroom.

“Mmm, yeah. That was hot.” Eric’s hands clamped down on my hips like he was remembering it, his knuckles digging in. I half expected him to haul me up on the counter and bend me over for some turnabout. I kind of wanted him to, too. He rolled his hips against my ass in a hungry grind. “Maybe we should forget this party. Just stay here. We could do all kinds of fucked-up things.” My cock was so hard it wasn’t funny. The laces on the breeches were basically useless in my state. And Eric, as always, had no interest in showing mercy. He moved one hand away, and I heard his fly unzip. His naked cock pressed against my ass, heat seeping through the fabric as he rubbed himself against it with a hiss. “I’m one hundred percent gonna ruin you in these at some point tonight. That’s a fucking promise.” The words rumbled over the nape of my neck, and a shudder of arousal zipped up my spine. I wanted it, wanted him. Fuck the Chinese, fuck the party, fuck this costume, and especially fuck the stupid vampire teeth.

“Do it,” I whispered, gripping the edge of the counter, partially to keep the wood from digging into my balls, partially because I knew what was coming and I didn’t trust myself to stay upright. He slid a hand around my front, cupping my hard-on through the fabric. I groaned when he squeezed, pushing into his hand shamelessly.

Yeah, definitely fuck the party.

Eric grinned at me in the mirror, ever the cocky bastard. His gaze flicked from my reflection to my mouth. “What did you say you were having trouble with?” he teased, then released my cock. I groaned petulantly when he tucked himself away.

“Of fucking course.” Every goddamn time, and if I didn’t truly love the guy as much as I loved the payoff that came frombeing edged into oblivion constantly, I’d sound more miffed. I mean, at this point, “dignity” was a word I only recognized from crossword puzzles. “I swear to fuck, dude, one day I’m not gonna fall for your bullshit, and then you’ll be?—“

“Lost.” Eric’s eyes met mine in the mirror, the humor dancing in them replaced by a solemn intensity that made my heart stutter. “I’d be lost, Nate.”

That wrecked me, and he knew it. Instead of saying something back, I hooked a hand behind his neck, angled my head, and pulled his mouth to mine. It was a slow, savoring kiss that only left me hungry for more. I’d learned to enjoy that feature of our relationship, though. The constant ache of desire I felt for him, the low-grade hum that suffused me from dawn until dusk, and the paradoxically terrifying contentment that came from knowing all the time in the world with him still wouldn’t be enough.

Eric pulled away with one last sensual sweep of his lips over mine and then picked up one of the vampire teeth. “Think I can help you with these. And then—“ he flashed me a scandalous smile. “I’ve got one more accessory for your costume.”

Said “accessory”turned out to be less an enhancement to my Louis costume, and more an instrument of torture.

I stared skeptically at the box Eric held open before me. We’d migrated to the kitchen, where I’d slurped down some lo mein after finally getting my fake fangs in.

“You’re not serious.” I shook my head and tried to close the box top over the butt plug nestled in foam. “I can’t wear that thing all night.” What was worse was that it vibrated and had remote control capabilities, meaning Eric could torment me whenever and however often he wanted to over the course of the night. It added a whole extra layer to him owning my ass.

“Sure you can. Plenty of people do,” he said, so encouragingly upbeat I barked out a laugh.

“Do noteveruse that tone in a presentation,” I warned. “No one will buy it, and they’ll become as instantly suspicious of your motives as I am.”

Eric lowered the box and crowded closer to me until my ass bumped up against our kitchen counter. “I’m not hiding my motive, Sanders. You know exactly what I want.” He tilted his head and lifted a finger to my temple to push back a strand of my hair, studying me. “You’re the perfect Louis, you know. Always fighting your nature.”

I exhaled a wry chuckle. “To be fair, I haven’t fought it for quite a while.”

“Good, then you’ll have no problem with this.”

I closed my eyes, heat roiling through me like a creeping fog. Fuck, Eric really did own my ass. Proof: after a beat, I opened my eyes again, fixed him with a threatening glare, and said, “Do not abuse your power,” even though I knew all along he would.

If he didn’t, I’d be disappointed.

Thirty minutesinto the official start of the Sigma Halloween party, I was regretting the poet blouse. The ruffles—or whatever the fuck they were called—were magnets for everything from the silly string some asshole dressed as Spiderman kept spraying all over the place to roving girl hands. Seriously, I’d been stopped at least three times and counting by girls who grabbed up little bunches of the lace on my shirt and ran their fingers over my chest like I was a petting zoo exhibit or some Victorian sex doll. There was a time I’d have basked in the attention, and I found myself glad that these days I only wanted to bask in the attentionof one set of hands. One set of very masculine hands attached to a stupidly sexy man I kept checking the front door for. Eric wasn’t late or anything, I was just embarrassingly overeager as usual. Since I had to come early for set up, he decided to take advantage of the empty apartment to finish up a paper he had due on Tuesday, forever and always more diligent than I was.

That wasn’t all he was doing, though. I’d barely made it inside the frat house before the plug in my ass started vibrating. I’d almost dropped the case of Bud Light I was carrying the first time, which wouldn’t have been a huge loss. But the DJ amp I was hauling the second time Eric hit the switch sure as hell would’ve been. Fortunately, that time there’d been a wall nearby for me to lean on as pleasure rocketed through my ass and balls.

Now I’d mostly gotten used to it, even if his timing was unpredictable. I’d only startled someone else once when I’d suddenly gone rigid and gasped. It was Marty, though, and he was already a little tipsy, so it was fine.

I scanned the surrounding scenery, sipping a beer I’d definitely earned.

I tried to mentally pause and really take it all in, Ferris Bueller style. This was likely the last Sigma Halloween party I’d ever attend. This time next year, who knew where the fuck we’d be. Both Eric and I had to start job hunting in the spring, and we had no idea where we’d end up. We just knew that wherever it was, we’d be together. That was good enough for me.

The Sigma house was chaos in a way that felt almost nostalgic. Lights strobing in every color of the rainbow, some horror movie on mute projecting gore above the fireplace, and bodies everywhere—mostly still alive, aside from some guy dressed like The Dude fromThe Big Lebowski,who’d already passed out on our couch. He’d regret that. Someone was crowd-surfing, another uniquely poor life choice, considering the only thing separating him from the cheap IKEA coffee table was fourguys in polyester superhero capes. Some genius had covered nearly every flat surface with red cling wrap and fake blood, so everything you set down looked like it belonged in an episode ofCSI: Frat House.

I snaked my way through the crowd, more hands finding me as I headed toward the keg for a refill.