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Maybe both.
Maybe it’s more.
“Does it still hurt?” he asks.
“It feels good, actually,” I say. My eyes go wide when I realize I’ve let the words out, and I swallow hard. “Um…when you—I think it’s normal, right?”
He doesn’t reply. He moves his hand, letting it hover over me until he touches my knee. I gasp at the scrape of his palm on soft skin, at how his fingers rest on my inner thigh. This is the most a man has ever touched me outside of that horrible hunt, and my body responds in kind. I’m hungry for him. Starving. The feeling gets stronger as his hand crawls up my leg, ending at the edge of the t-shirt.
“I’m gonna bite here,” he says, running his fingers over the spot on my inner thigh. “It’ll confuse anyone who thinks we haven’t bred yet—make them think I’ve already been inside you.”
Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but I swear there’s a hint of longing in his voice.
“I’m nervous,” I tell him.
“Don’t be.” He keeps circling his fingers over that spot, driving me crazy. “I’ll tend to the bite afterward to speed the healing process and ease the pain. It should only hurt for a second, and then…”
“Then it’ll feel good,” I say. “Like it’s supposed to.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Like that.”
I stay prone as he moves between my legs, spreading them like a lover. The t-shirt drapes over my pussy, hiding me from him—much to my relief, because I’m already wet. He bends and places his hands on my hips, holding me still.
His breath puffs out against my skin, and then I feel a strange sensation.
Not the bite.
Histongue.
“Mm,” I sigh, a short gasp escaping my lips. He feels so good between my legs, his lips on my skin. It’s like this is where he’s supposed to be.
“I’m going to count down from three and then I’ll bite,” he says. “Are you read?”
I jerk my head. “Do it,” I say.
“Three…”
I shift slightly, his hands fitting my hips perfectly.
“Two…”
I inhale and hold it.
“One.”
His lips clamp over my flesh and his teeth bite down, pain zinging through me. His canines only pierce for a moment though, and then he’s drawing them out and licking the wound. A wave of pleasure nearly as powerful as an orgasm courses through me, and I can’t stop myself from jerking my hips in his grasp.
“Steady,” he breathes, his voice hoarse.
“But I…”
His teeth graze the open puncture wounds and I buck against him again, careless with my t-shirt. It rides up around my hips, baring my wet pussy to him.
Everything seems to go still.
Javi’s tongue stops on my skin, his kiss gently sucking rather than dutifully licking the wound.
His green eyes meet mine.
