He stiffens and sits up, looking down at me. “Do you ask if I am a companion?” There’s unexpected tension in his voice. And offense.
“Excuse you. I’m one, so obviously I’m not insulting you.”
“That is not…” He trails off with a huff. “Why would you assume?”
“Oh, I don’t know…” I flick the C-ring in his nipple, and he rolls his eyes.
Leaning over, he digs into the nightstand and comes back out with a small black pouch. Sitting up with his tail still around my waist, he tips the contents into his hand.
It’s a small, delicate chain. It’s some kind of metal, but not one I’ve ever seen before. It almost looks like it was carved out of opal, but with the same texture as silver. He holds it up to the light to find tiny clasps on either side, and before I can ask him what he’s doing, he clips each end to one of my nipple rings.
“Um.”
He drags his finger along the chain, then hooks that digit under my chin and lifts my gaze to meet his. “Your mark is complete.”
I swallow heavily. “This means I’m yours.”
“This is my mark,” he says. It explains so much without explaining anything at all.
I touch his chest again. “So these…”
“The mark of my rank,” he tells me.
I touch his jaw. “And your tongue?”
“A gift from my sire.”
Sire…sire… I frown, trying to place the word. I read it once in a vampire romance. It’s what the main character called the one who turned him.
But that can’t be it in this instance.
“Your father? Mother?”
“My egg bearer.” He says the words quietly, almost like he’s not supposed to speak of it, and maybe that’s the truth. Because egg bearer?
“Are you going to get in trouble for telling me all this?” I ask.
He huffs a small laugh and drags a touch across the chain again, then pulls it, making me gasp. It doesn’t hurt. No, the opposite, in fact. My cock is spent but twitches in a valiant attempt to get hard again.
“What use would that information be to you?”
He’s got a point.
“So…you get pierced for every significant moment of your life?”
He inclines his head sharply, just once. “These are my marks of valor.” He touches the top of his ear. “From my commander.” He touches each nipple. “From the one who schooled me.” He touches his navel.
His lips are parted, so I slide my fingers past his fangs and touch the metal in his tongue. “And the one who made you.”
He nods, closing his lips around my fingers, and sucks. His tongue curls around them for a moment, and I shiver as I pull free. His eyes are a little hazy, and I wonder if he could dip into my head and feel it when he pleasures me, too.
I don’t ask.
Not yet.
“And you all come from eggs?”
He tilts his head to the side. “Yes. I have recently learned your kind does not.”
