It would be so fucking ironic if my boyfriend turned out to be even more of a psychopath than my stalker was.
I kept staring at the pouches.
What if it really was a joke? What if they had friends at the hospital?
Eric had been a fucking med student after all.
Maybe a friend had gotten them the pouches, and they’d filled them with a cocktail for Halloween.
What if I was going crazy by believing my boyfriend actually had blood stashed away in his fridge?
I grabbed one pouch, my stomach revolting as I squeezed it tightly in my hands and shoved it into the front pocket of my hoodie.
Then I closed the fridge again and ran like a bat out of hell.
Haha… bat.
Vampire.
I was fleeing from my potential vampire boyfriend like a bat out of hell.
Oh, fuck. I reallywaslosing my mind.
Chapter 22
Eric
Ihadn’t slept this well in ages.
I smiled as I rolled over, my eyes searching for Finn, even though part of me already knew he was gone. I could feel his absence in my body, an emptiness where his warmth was supposed to be.
Rubbing my chest, I sat up, extended my hand, and touched the bedding where he’d been sleeping last night. The sheets were cold. He’d probably been gone for hours, which matched the way his scent in the room was already fading. His pillow still smelled a lot like him, though, and I couldn’t help but bring it to my face. I inhaled deeply, trying to breathe as much of him in as possible, even as my stomach began to cramp and my fangs started aching.
I wasn’t technically hungry. I’d be good to go another couple of days until I needed to feed again, but that didn’t mean I didn’twantto feed on him. My cock throbbed in unison with my fangs as memories from that night came to my mind. When we’d had sex. When my vampire side had taken over and I’d fucking bitten him.
I’d never known that biting someone during sex would be so fucking hot. Yeah, Bennie had told me time and time again, but it’d never appealed to me. However, he’d failed to mention how intimate it was, how ecstatic and utterly overwhelming.
I pressed a hand against my erection, Finn’s pillow still pressed against my face as more and more pictures shot through my mind. His creamy skin, those pert dark nipples, his straining cock leaking everywhere.
Fuck.
My cock twitched, beads of precum soaking my briefs as I hurriedly shoved my hand inside, closing my fingers around my shaft. Widening my legs, I shifted until I had better access, then started stroking myself.
Was it a bit fucked up that I was basically suffocating myself with a pillow while masturbating?
Yes, it was.
Then again, I didn’t need to breathe, so technically I was just weirdly using my mate’s pillow to get off—and I really, really needed to get off right now.
I could still see it in my mind’s eye, the way he’d arched his back as I hit his prostate just right. Could still hear his breathy, ragged moans, the creaking bed, the way his fucking radiator clonked suspiciously. And I definitely remembered the way the vein in his neck fluttered so tantalizingly. It was a dance of seduction, the pace picking up the closer he got to the edge. I thought I could resist, but the faster it got, the more it called to me. Right until the animalistic side of me that didn’t care about consent or boundaries… struck.
I threw my head back as my cock started pulsing in my fist, and I spilled my cum in my underwear.
Holy fuck.
Holy fucking fuck.
I didn’t know exactly how long it took for me to calm down. Might’ve been a minute, might’ve been an hour, or even a fucking day. I just knew that at one point the cooling cum started to feel weird and uncomfortable as hell, especially since I’d smeared it over my stomach as I’d pulled my hand out of my briefs.
