Page 69 of Bite Me
The orgasm faded away, and I felt all loose inside. I pushed myself up and sank down again, letting Russel’s cock drag along the front wall of my hole.
The beauty of venom-induced orgasms was that they sensitized me but didn’t make me oversensitive. Sparks of pleasure ignited in my gland on each thrust, and soon, I was riding him shamelessly. The mattress shifted as Russel leaned back. He palmed my ass cheeks.
“You’re beautiful, Eddie. In the sunset, your body looks like you’re on fire.”
He saw colors differently than me; I knew that much. Light looked much brighter to him than to me.
I braced my hands by his sides and put my feet on the bed. The new angle had his cockhead pushing against my gland, and I could fuck myself harder. My cock waved in the air in the most obscene way, but I liked it. I felt free as I rode him with abandon, the colors of the sunset streaming into the room, bathing me in gold.
“Fuck, Eddie, sweetheart. You’re killing me.”
He sounded like he was about to lose it. I pushed down hard, my ass smacking against his hips, and Russel cried out. So I did it again. This time, it was me making him come.
I sped up, my muscles burning, but I wouldn’t stop. Russel bucked.
Groaning, he grabbed my hips to still me. His cock jolted inside me, and I grinned with victory. Abruptly, he rolled me to the side and pressed into me deeper. He sank his fangs into the crook of my neck and shoulder. The cool sensation lasted only a second, then came the fiery lust that made my mind explode with colorful fireworks.
Russel milked my cock with his hand and fucked into me hard. I sobbed through the orgasm.
“Stay in me!” I gasped. My ass twitched uncontrollably, and his cock felt like the only thing keeping me tethered to reality—that and the stinging where he’d bitten me.
But he wasn’t drinking from me now. I felt his breath in my hair, then he rubbed his face against my nape. He sighed and hummed, pressed a kiss into my hair, sighed again… His grip on my erection gentled, and he rocked me slower and slower. The last wave of pleasure came and went, weak and merciful.
“You’re still bleeding,” Russel murmured. “Let me.”
He pushed on my shoulder to expose my throat, but I shifted away. His softening cock slipped out of me.
I blinked around the unfamiliar room. “Is there a mirror?”
“There.” Russel pointed at a round mirror on the wall by the nightstand.
I had to see it. I swayed as I stood, but I didn’t feel dizzy. My muscles were just mellow. Russel reached out to steady me.
“I’m fine. I just want to have a look.”
I ambled toward the mirror and lifted my chin. There. Two red dots sat at the base of my throat. A drop of blood oozed from one of them, slowly inching toward my collarbone. My heart pounded at the sight.
I wanted the wounds to stay there. Russel’s mark on me forever, like a brand.
He came up behind me and put his arms around me. He rubbed one hand over my breastbone and the other just below the twin red spots, smearing the drop. Our eyes met in the mirror, and Russel licked his finger.
The way he gazed at me made my stomach swoop. Yes, he was a predator. A dangerous creature with ten times the strength and much faster reflexes than any human. He could camouflage himself in business attire and hide behind sunglasses, have a day job, and pay taxes. But he would always be a blood drinker, and I would always be his prey. I looked so small and fragile compared to him, and my lizard brain loved that. It wasright.
God help me, but I wanted to belong to him in ways that were bordering on delusional. I wanted him to feed from me and nobody else until the end of time, and I wanted the scars to show for it.
Russel gently turned me in his embrace, tearing me away from the image in the mirror. He leaned in and tenderly licked the stinging spot. The pain vanished. A few butterfly kisses up my jaw and a tender one on my nose.
There would be no visible scar anywhere on my body.
“Let me take you out for dinner, hm?”
I didn’t trust myself to speak. I nodded.
17
THE COLORS OF THE OCEAN
RUSSEL
