Dante rested his forehead against Ollie’s and began to chant strange, rhythmic sounds. With each puff of Dante’s breath, something familiar washed over Ollie. Did he recognize the spell from the first time Dante uttered it, even though he’d been unconscious?
Dante’s chants tickled Ollie’s skin, leaving him feeling infinitely more cleansed than the shower. Warmthflooded Ollie’s bones. Their breath mingled, and Dante’s peppermint scent filled Ollie’s nose.
Surrounded by Dante, Ollie believed he’d be okay, even in the face of everything that had happened.
Electricity buzzed up and down Ollie’s spine, even after Dante finished the spell. The silence felt alive. Ollie shivered, not ready to let go of the sensation. It was weird and kind of wonderful.
Ollie found himself smiling.
When Dante pulled back, Ollie missed the press of their foreheads together. It was like he’d gotten attached to the small physical connection and didn’t know what to do without it.
Dante gave him a tender look of understanding. Fuck, Ollie had never felt so seen.
“Are you ready to exchange blood?” Dante asked.
Ollie hesitated, even with all the good feelings buzzing around him. “Is it safe?”
Dante nodded. “Yes, we’re immortal. Diseases and infections can’t affect us.”
“Okay.” Ollie blushed. If they had sex, there’d be no need for a condom. Fuck, why was he thinking that?
Dante took one of Ollie’s hands in his and massaged it. “We only need a small amount. A sip each. It won’t hurt, but I’ll go first and give you my blood, all right?”
Ollie nodded. This was the most bizarre thing he’d ever done, or it should have been. Intellectually speaking, drinking blood was creepy. Except it wasn’t. He felt nothing but calm.
He needed this.
Dante brought his wrist to his lips. He bared his teeth, canines lengthening into fangs, and bit down.
Ollie expected the sight of blood to turn his stomach. He braced himself, but as Dante pulled back, red on his teeth anddripping from his wrist, Ollie’s mouth watered, desire tugging behind his navel.
He reached for Dante, bringing Dante’s wounded wrist to his lips, and lapped at it with his tongue. It wasn’t enough. Ollie covered the wound with his mouth and sucked, blood coating his tongue as a low groan rumbled deep in Dante’s chest.
Dante tasted like fresh peppermint and warm sun on salty skin. Nothing had ever been so good.
Pleasure spiked along Ollie’s spine, his cock thickening unexpectedly. Holy shit. Ollie needed more. He sucked harder, his pleasure building until his cock was fully erect.
A soft, almost purring sound emanated from Dante’s throat and his cock hardened against Ollie. Was it in response to Ollie’s erection or Ollie drinking Dante’s blood? Ollie wished they weren’t separated by towels. He needed skin on skin.
Oh god, did Ollie have a blood kink? Did Dante?
It was so good Ollie almost didn’t care. He drank deeper, Dante’s other hand tightening on Ollie’s thigh. Dante’s breaths came out soft and panting—desperate—but he didn’t roll his hips or pull Ollie closer.
Ollie wished he would. He wanted to mate in every sense of the word, with Dante’s bare cock in his ass. Too bad they’d agreed not to have sex. To be friends. To mate but not be together. And it was the right choice, no matter how good this felt.
Ollie pulled back before he did something he’d regret, licking his lips like he’d had ice cream, not blood.
Dante’s face was flushed deep red, his eyes hooded. He cleared his throat, his voice rough like gravel. “Was that okay?”
“Better than okay,” Ollie breathed, forcing himself not to squirm on Dante’s lap. “Is it my turn?”
Dante nodded, delicately clutching Ollie’s wrist.
Pleasure tightened deep inside Ollie. It was kind of fuckedup that he was hard over this after what happened on the beach, but he couldn’t focus on anything bad right now. It was impossible.
“You’re doing so well, Ollie. We’re almost there,” Dante murmured before his lips closed over Ollie’s wrist and sharp teeth punctured Ollie’s flesh.
Pleasure zinged along Ollie’s nerves.
