Wait…
“Was this the first time?”
His silence told me everything I needed to know.
I huffed, but still kissed the top of his head, trying to let him know that while I was irritated, I wasn’t full-on mad.
“Great. We need to talk about this, but you need to get going,” I groused, shifting beneath Eric to get him to move. “So, get your ass in gear, and we’ll talk while you’re getting dressed.”
“Fine,” Eric muttered, and slowly got up. He went over to the couch where he’d stashed his clothes and started putting them on.
However, he did not fucking talk.
Apparently, I’d need to be the one to initiate this conversation.
“How often?” I asked.
“What?”
“How often did you bite me without me knowing?”
Eric flinched.
“Uhm… full-on biting?”
“Is there a different kind of bit—doesn’t matter. How often. In total. Everything you could potentially count as biting combined.”
He mumbled something, but it was too low for me to understand.
I crossed my arms and gave him a look.
“Fine,” he sighed. “Four times. Including today. But I only full-on bit and drank from you twice—both times during sex. And the first time wasn’t intentional. It was like… my vampire side taking over or something.”
I snorted. “If you want to make me feel better about you biting me, the whole “Ohh, I just lost control, it’s not my fault” reasoning is not doing it.”
Four times.
“I never said it wasn’t my fault.” Eric plopped down on the bed next to me. “Itwasmy fault. I did it. I just didn’t plan to.”
“Planned or not, I want you to ask beforehand,” I said.
“Every time?”
Why did he look shocked at that?
“Yes,everytime.” I rolled my eyes. “I might decide at one point that you don’t have to ask and have permission to bite me in some situation—for example, in bed—but until you’ve shown me that you actually know how consent works, I want to be asked.”
He nodded.
“Okay. I can do that.” He leaned in, his face hovering inches from mine. “Can I kiss you?”
I laughed. “Kissing is always fine.” Then I remembered the whole blood-drinking thing. Yesterday, I’d made him brush his teeth. The thought of tasting blood on him had made me a bit squeamish.
But it’d be my own.
Was that different?
Too late now, anyway.
