Page 70

Eric

T he bite—the exquisite pleasure of it—cut through the fog in Eric’s brain, sharp and hot and sweet.

He’d known he was confusing Wolfe, had been able to feel the restless yearning coming from him, the desire for them to be in sync. He’d just needed a minute to process was all.

Dinner—and the whirlwind of drama that had come after—had driven the knife home in a way even Eric’s failed shift at the hospital hadn’t: he wasn’t human anymore.

Like, the food Roman had made had tasted good , but it had satisfied nothing.

All of them eating human food together was just…

sentimental playacting? Eric didn’t even mind that part of it so much, if it meant an excuse to gather.

But the reality was he only ever had two real cravings anymore: human blood and Wolfe.

He’d wanted Wolfe before the drama had started—had missed him all throughout dinner, even with everyone being so nice to him—and he hadn’t even been surprised when Wolfe had appeared out of nowhere, right when needed.

There was the little fact that Wolfe seemed willing to put down a child; that would need to be dealt with, and soon.

But Eric wasn’t going to turn from Wolfe because of it.

It was just how Wolfe’s brain worked, Eric was realizing.

Wolfe was selfish , pathologically so. But due to the bond or his possessiveness or whatever else, his selfishness now included Eric, and that made him the most caring person Eric had ever known.

That care may have extended only to Eric, but Eric was just selfish enough in turn to not give a shit about that.

It was nice to be cared for, for once in his entire life. Cared for because of who he was and not what he could achieve.

Wolfe came when he was needed. He told Eric that he was good, that he was wanted. And he said he would keep them safe. No one had ever been concerned whether Eric was safe.

The bite ended too soon.

Eric whined in protest as Wolfe released the sharp hold of his teeth, licking at Eric’s leaking wound like a contented cat.

He smelled good. He always smelled so fucking good.

Which begged the question, How would he taste?

“Let me bite you.” Eric wasn’t sure if he was begging or ordering, but he knew Wolfe wouldn’t censure him either way. He liked Eric greedy. He seemed to like Eric all ways.

The truth of that was displayed in the heat of Wolfe’s eyes, flashing red in the dim lighting. “Of course, darling. Where would you like?”

God, how was he supposed to choose? He wanted to nibble over every inch of that lithe frame, get that ridiculous suit off and see for himself which spot tasted the very best. But there would be time for that, wouldn’t there? And there was a certain allure to the traditional.

Eric hastened to undo Wolfe’s tie. “Well, it’s my first time biting. I should go classic, right?”

“The neck,” Wolfe purred, tilting his head, a mirror of Eric’s earlier position. His eyes were still black, his teeth gleaming red with Eric’s blood. It shouldn’t be so fucking hot. “Be my guest, pet.”

Eric threw the tie on the ground and let his own beast out while he undid Wolfe’s top buttons, revealing the taut line of Wolfe’s neck to his gaze.

Eric nosed along the soft skin there first, licked experimentally. Wolfe tasted like clean skin. Like salt. But he could smell it, under the surface. Metallic but also…different. Wolfe didn’t smell like the humans in the hospital. He smelled richer. Sharper.

Eric couldn’t be sure if he decided to bite or his beast decided for him, but the next second, he found his teeth puncturing Wolfe’s skin, that coppery warmth filling his mouth.

Oh fuck. Fuuuuck.

Eric was going to become addicted to this, wasn’t he?

He’d been hard since the moment Wolfe had bitten him, but now his cock ached . It hadn’t been like this, drinking that reheated blood bag blood. Was this a from-the-source thing? Or was this a mate thing? No wonder Wolfe hadn’t been able to stop. Eric didn’t want to ever stop.

His beast shifted and writhed inside him, gluttonous and strange yet familiar at the same time. Like a hunger he’d had at the back of his being all his life, one he’d denied and starved and kept secret. Turning had let that hunger out. Wolfe had let it out.

Eric drank until he felt a sharp sting in his scalp—only then did he realize Wolfe had threaded his fingers through Eric’s hair and was tugging him off with impressive force.

Eric allowed it for the moment, licking the stray drops of blood off his lips, eyes heavy-lidded as they met Wolfe’s sharp, red-tinged stare.

“That’s enough, darling,” Wolfe ordered, his voice a husky rasp.

Eric’s responding no was petulant, needy. He strained against Wolfe’s hold. “I want more.”

“You wish to drain me dry, pet? Is that your idea of revenge?” Wolfe looked almost proud.

Eric tugged at Wolfe’s lapels. “You belong to me, don’t you? Isn’t that how this works? You’re all mine. Body. Mind. Heart. Blood.”

He wasn’t even quite aware of what he was saying. He was overwhelmed. By Wolfe, by his new life, by the unholy revelation that was the joy of consuming his mate’s blood. He knew he was being demanding. He was maybe being crazy.

But Wolfe’s eyes shone bloodred with dark, obsessive heat at his words. “Yes, darling,” he purred. “You have all of me.”

“And you want all of me.”

Wolfe’s eyes narrowed. “I have all of you.”

Eric shrugged, tugging at Wolfe’s lapels again. “You haven’t had all of me yet.”

It took a surprisingly long moment for Wolfe to get it, his pupils blowing wide at the realization. “Are you going to let me fuck you, pet? You’re going to take my cock?”

“And if I want it the other way around?”

Wolfe perused Eric’s face, his fingers still firmly threaded into Eric’s hair, holding him in place, allowing only a few inches of distance between them.

His bite wound was seeping blood, but Wolfe didn’t seem in any hurry to close it.

“But you don’t, do you, pet? You’re greedy for my touch.

Greedy for my blood. You’ll be just as greedy for my cock.

Because you want to be filled, don’t you, darling? My poor, empty mate. You need it.”

Eric didn’t bother denying the truth of that, his blood running hot in his veins at Wolfe’s filthy words. “Yes.”

Wolfe’s smile was sharp. Triumphant. “I should bend you over this chair, take you right here.”

Eric wrinkled his nose, his gaze straying to the embroidered chair. “This thing won’t work for fucking. It looks like it was made for grandmothers to serve tea from.”

Wolfe paused, taken aback. “You dislike the decor?”

“It’s fine,” Eric reassured him, too turned on to let this become some sort of argument. “It’s…elegant?”

“I suppose you’d prefer a man cave of some kind?” Wolfe asked, his brow furrowed, clearly affronted. “One with overstuffed cushions and a meteor-sized television?”

Eric couldn’t help his smirk. “Doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Ah.” After a moment, Wolfe’s expression smoothed, and a wicked glint appeared in his eye. “Warming my cock while you watch your American football, perhaps?”

A shock of lust punched through Eric, unexpected in its intensity. “What? I didn’t say anything about that.”

“Bent over some hideous leather sofa, your face pressed into a couch that will ‘work for fucking’? Is that what you’d like, my needy darling?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Eric was panting now, not sure if he was humiliated or turned on beyond belief.

Wolfe gave another tug to his hair, grinding his erection against Eric’s own. “Come, pet. I trust you have no objections to the suitability of our bed.”

By the time the short trip to the bedroom had taken place, Eric’s bravado had worn off.

How the hell had he been so confident propositioning this? You haven’t had all of me yet ? What the fuck was he, some sort of femme fatale?

True, he was no stranger to hookups. The twist of two bodies, soft or hard.

Condoms and sweat and awkward goodbyes at three in the morning.

But he’d never been…taken. And he didn’t just mean in the sense of never having been fucked.

He’d never been the object of such fierce, unholy possessiveness before.

Because Wolfe wouldn’t be leaving at three in the morning.

Wolfe wouldn’t be leaving at all, would he?

And he would probably chase Eric to the ends of the earth if he tried to run instead.

And it was pointless pretending it didn’t thrill him, being wanted in that way. Not just for a few hours or a few nights. For always.

Wolfe slid in ahead of him as they entered through the bedroom, and Eric stood awkwardly, watching as Wolfe made his way to the bedside table before neatly removing a bottle of lube and placing it just so. No condoms.

Vampires couldn’t give or receive STIs; that was what Danny’s helpful little book had said.

Wolfe removed his suit jacket and turned to face Eric, deftly unbuttoning his own shirt as he did so, nodding at Eric to do the same.

Eric frowned at him from his spot in the doorway, even as his gaze followed the slow reveal of smooth, lickable skin. “That’s it? We’re just gonna strip?”

A small twitch of Wolfe’s lips. “I’m sorry, darling. Did you need to be seduced?”

Eric didn’t dignify that with a response, instead holding his breath as Wolfe shrugged off the shirt completely and stalked over, placing Eric’s face in his hands.

He held Eric’s gaze for a long moment, as they both breathed the same air, then one hand trailed down to Eric’s neck, wrapping around the front, using the leverage to tilt Eric’s mouth up toward him. “You like to be kissed, don’t you, pet?”

Eric tried to keep in his moan, was halfway successful. “Everyone likes to be kissed.”

Wolfe clicked his tongue. “Not everyone.”

“What, you don’t like kissing me?” Eric teased. He’d seen how undone Wolfe became after making out; he wasn’t going to be fooled.

“I never liked kissing anyone.” Past tense. Wolfe confirmed it with the next word, his gaze hot. “Before, that is.”

“But now?”