Chapter 17 #3
Finally, he broke skin. Blood welled up around his lips, but he didn't notice. His eyes were closed, and he was groaning, fucking up into me like a man possessed.
The pain was sharp and immediate, radiating up my arm. My free hand fisted in his hair, holding him there, making sure he went deep enough to be permanent.
Blood ran down my arm, dripping onto his chest, mixing with the sweat already there. He was still moving inside me, his hips snapping up harder now, faster, like the taste of my blood was driving him insane.
Then he bit down even harder, and his entire body went rigid beneath me. He made a sound against my arm that was half-growl, half-moan, and I felt him come inside me.
Holy shit.
When he finally released my arm, his mouth was covered in blood and his eyes were unfocused, glazed. He looked drunk on it.
"I—" His voice was wrecked. "That was—I don't know what—"
"You just discovered you have a biting kink," I said, staring at my arm. The crescents were deep. This was definitely going to scar.
"Welcome to your sexuality, priest." I shifted on top of him and winced. He was starting to soften inside me, but I was still rock hard, my cock throbbing between us. "Also, you came but I didn't, and I'm dying here."
His hands immediately went to my hips. "Show me. Tell me what you need."
"Just—" I wrapped my bloody hand around my cock and started stroking. The visual of my own blood smearing across my length while I sat on his cock made my vision blur. "Keep talking. Keep your hands on me. I'm close."
"You're bleeding on your own cock," Rafael said, his voice rough with wonder. "God, Lorenzo, look at you. Covered in blood and cum and mine. All mine."
That did it. Three more strokes and I was coming hard across his chest, my body clenching around him, pulling a groan from deep in his throat.
When it was over, I collapsed forward onto him. We were both wrecked, both covered in blood and cum, both shaking.
"Holy shit," I managed.
"I made you bleed, and it made me come," Rafael said, like he was still trying to process it. "What does that say about me?"
"That you're human?" I tried to lift my head but gave up. "Also, pretty sure most of the saints were into some kinky shit. You're in good company."
He laughed, the sound slightly unhinged. "I don't think that's how it works."
"Definitely how it works." I finally managed to lift off him and immediately whimpered at the loss. "Okay. Moving is a bad idea. Everything hurts."
"Let me—" He sat up, looking at my bleeding arm, and his expression shifted into something focused and careful. "I need to clean that."
"It's fine."
"It's not fine. You're bleeding because of me." He was already moving, hunting for supplies. "Don't argue with me."
I watched him pad naked across the room, this virgin priest who'd just discovered he gets off on biting people. The world had gotten very weird.
When he came back with the first-aid kit, his hands were surprisingly steady as he cleaned the wound. The antiseptic burned like hell, and I hissed.
"Sorry," he murmured, wrapping my arm in gauze. His touch was so gentle now, completely at odds with how he'd just bitten me hard enough to scar.
"Worth it."
He looked up at me. "Why? Why did you want it to match?"
"You've carried my mark for years." I touched his scarred forearm with my uninjured hand. "Seemed fair I carry yours too."
He leaned forward and kissed me, soft and careful, tasting like copper and us.
When he pulled back, he finished bandaging my arm, then treated the other bite marks on my neck and shoulder. The bastard made me drink water and tucked me into bed like I was something fragile.
"You don't have to do all this," I said.
"Yes, I do." He climbed in beside me. "No one's ever taken care of you after, have they?"
My throat went tight. "No."
"Well, I am." His arms came around me. "Get used to it."
We lay there quietly for a while before I brought us back to reality.
"We need to talk about getting Luka’s seal"
Rafael's arms tightened. "I know."
"He's my best friend. Has been since I was fourteen." I stared at the ceiling. "But he's also the North American Director."
"Will he help us?"
"I don't know." The honesty hurt. "The Luka I knew would help without question. But I'm asking him to commit treason. To risk Vincent. To risk everything he's built."
"He won't turn us in though."
"No. Never." I was certain of that. "But asking for his seal is asking for everything. And the Judges are already watching him."
"Another trap then."
"Probably." I couldn't help the bitter laugh. "But we need three seals. Jasper gave us Hephaestus's. We still need Hades'. And we need Luka's."
"And if he refuses?"
"Then we're fucked."
Rafael was quiet for a long moment. Then: "We’ll figure it out. We’ve come too far already to give up now."
We lay there holding each other while rain drummed outside. My bandaged arm throbbed between us. His cross hung heavy against his chest.
Every step brought us closer to death.
But Rafael's fingers tightened around mine, and I realized I'd rather die his than live another day pretending to be someone I wasn't.