Page 26 of Bite Me
“You know it is.” Eric’s hand moved to the back of my head. His thumb traced traced the shell of my ear almost tenderly and sent a shudder straight down my spine. “Suck it, Nate.”
Fuck, the way he said my name, all raspy demand, was impossible to refuse. I closed my lips around his crown and sucked, hollowing my cheeks and watching his expression shift into something more brittle and fraying. He was always in control, always the showman, but right then I had the reins.
He exhaled sharply, knuckles tightening in my hair until my scalp prickled. The sting made my mouth water. I opened wide and took him deep, wanting nothing more than to choke on him, but being cautious of the fake caps I had on. They weren’t dramatically obvious fangs, though, just a bit of extra length. Neither of us had liked the idea of lisping through conversations all night. This was an unexpected side benefit.
I sucked him as deep as I could, gagged myself and didn’t care, let my spit run down my chin, clenched my fingers into his thighs and sank to the root, aiming for the kind of blowjob that made porn look like cable TV. Going by the soft curses he spat out and the way his breath kept catching, it was working.
Things got messy. They usually did. I picked up the pace, wanting to see the sharp flicker of surprise in his eyes when I got greedy, hear that catch in his breath, feel the way his knees locked under my hands when he started to lose control.
Eric’s thighs trembled under my palms. His cock pulsed, and then suddenly, his hand tightened at the back of my head inwarning a second before he yanked me off his dick with another stifled curse.
His other hand came to my jaw, tenderness in the way his fingers splayed over my stubble and lowered to my throat as he guided me more upright, then hauled me in and kissed me. My face was wet with spit, but he didn’t give a shit. His tongue moved over mine, velvety as his coat. Greedy, too, seeking the taste of himself on me. My dick strained against my pants, chafing against the edge of the throne as I rolled my hips, desperate for the pressure.
With a hard suck and a nip to my lower lip, Eric pulled back and ticked his chin somewhere over my shoulder. I twisted to get a look and, damn, there we were, reflected in the enormous mirror. I was a hot fucking mess kneeling between Eric’s thighs, mouth spit-glossed, cheeks pink, eyes wide.
“The mirror.”
No fanfare, no further instructions. I knew what he wanted immediately, and for the first time tonight, hesitated. “Isn’t that a little... intimate?” I wasn’t sure that was the right word for the discombobulated feeling that flared through me at the prospect of being inches from my own reflection while Eric railed me. The feeling was a lot of things all at once and hard to pin down. Eric had the sexiest O-face in the world, but I was pretty sure mine more closely resembled a fish out of water gasping for air. I wasn’t sure I needed to see that up close.
Eric exhaled a knowing chuckle. “It’s intimate, yeah. That’s the point. I get to fuck that tight hole and watch you fall apart at the same time.” There was no world in which I should’ve found that as hot as I did, but my brain bowed out of the decision entirely and left my dick in the driver’s seat. I bit my lip, eyes darting from Eric’s face to the mirror and back, and then—yeah, there it was, my own reflection pinning me like a butterfly to a corkboard, every impulse, every tremor laid bare and doubledby the glass. The first time I had sex with Eric, the vulnerability of it nearly crushed me. I’d never mentioned it to anyone, how submitting to someone meant being seen at the molecular level, how you got split open all the way down the line and had to trust your partner to put the pieces back together in the right order. But somehow, under Eric’s hands, it always hurt so good. And I always came out better on the other side.
“Did I say intimate? I think I actually meant selfish,” I teased.
“Never claimed otherwise when it comes to you, Sanders.” A smile ghosted over his lips, equal parts predatory and fond, and hit me with a hundred memories of private moments just as twisted, just as intimate. And even though he was agreeing with me, it wasn’t entirely true. Eric was self-assured and confident. He had boundaries and knew what he wanted. But even when he was ordering me around or flaying open my vulnerabilities and getting off on it, I never felt used, always felt like I was getting just as much out of it as he was.
But again, that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to fuck with him about it.
Eric must have read the assent in my eyes, because he let go of my hair and took my hand, helping me stagger upright, then coaxed me toward the mirror where he boxed me in until my hands automatically rose to brace against the frame.
I met my own eyes in the glass and almost looked away, but Eric was right there watching me. I focused on his face, the heavy-lidded gaze that coasted down my chest and lingered at my crotch.
His naked cock pressed flush against my ass as he snaked a hand under my shirt, tugging it free from the waistband of my breeches and unbuttoning the single button at the bottom holding it together.
“So fucking sexy.” It was a purr of sound that thrummed through me and lifted goosebumps that trailed in the wake of his caress over my abs, pecs, and then my v-lines.
Eric went for my laces, tugging the ties of my breeches with careless abandon. With a grunt of effort, he splayed the fabric open, knuckles brushing my skin on the way down. He gloved my cock, bringing it out hard and leaking, and fuck, the air was strikingly cold on my wet tip. I could barely breathe. My hips jerked a little before I caught myself, but he’d already seen it, already had me figured out and filed the data under predictable weak spots.
Whatever. Relief was in sight anyway. I groaned, letting my head fall back against his shoulder at the first slow stroke to my shaft. My eyes fell shut while my lips parted on a wispy exhale, and then blinked open again when he squeezed just below my head. “Eyes open and on the mirror, Sanders. Watch. Look at your cock in my hand. Look how wet the tip is. Look at yourself while I touch you.”
I swallowed hard. I was definitely blushing as I tried to comply. I didn’t know how often people stared at themselves in a mirror from six inches away while someone took them apart, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable. At least not at first. It was too close, too vulnerable, too intimate. Every time my eyes tried to shutter closed, Eric’s cock dug harder into my ass. I wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a warning or a promise. “F-fuck,” I stuttered out as he twisted his hand, then did it again. Pleasure unfurled through me like tendrils of smoke, permeating my veins. My eyes forgot to shut, and I saw myself, saw how the haze of pleasure descended over my features and slackened my jaw while blowing my pupils wide. This time instead of feeling unsettled, I found it strangely arousing, like I was witnessing him write pleasure all over me in his glowing cursive touch,watching it suffuse me from the inside out and rise from my skin like mist.
“Fuck yes,” he murmured, lips brushing my earlobe. “Been thinking about this since you walked in.”
“Can you maybe do a little less thinking and a little more doing?” I protested, thrusting into his grip.
Eric only chuckled darkly, which was its own kind of answer.
His fist tightened on my dick, drawing up the head before he tipped it right to the glass, smearing pre-cum all over the mirror like he was signing his name in bodily fluids. What started out as a laugh of bewilderment choked off in a groan.Fuck. Eric glided my tip in slow, messy circles, wetting the glass. It was unexpected. It was weird. And also somehow massively erotic—all that cool glass against my feverish skin, the reflection of my dick pressed against the real thing. It did something to me. I couldn’t stop staring. I should have been hellishly embarrassed, and maybe I was a little, but I was also leaking so much I was painting the glass.
It was sick. It was genius. It was us.
Again and again, Eric stroked my dick until it oozed, then rubbed the head on the mirror while I watched, so mesmerized I jolted when he stopped to shove my pants down to mid-thigh. The bunched fabric gripped my quads like a tourniquet. Did I care? No. All my blood flow was going to a singular place anyway.
I tipped my forehead to the mirror, breath fogging the glass while Eric lined his cock up behind me and pressed in so tight against my crease his abs flexed against my back. I was thoroughly caged, and he was the predator about to feast.
His palms flattened on my hipbones possessively, then ran up my abdomen, thumbs pressing hard into my obliques. He nosed my neck, lips grazing that spot just below my ear, and the slash of teeth against my skin made me jerk. I gripped themirror’s edge, knuckles bleaching out, because I knew what was coming; he was taking the scenic route tonight. Again.
I steeled myself to be edged into oblivion, except even after a goddamn year of being with him, I still hadn’t mastered my reactions. He grinned against my skin like a bastard when he felt me go rigid and then melt in the space of a heartbeat.