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Sam sat on the couch with Darlin in his lap, straddling his hips, devouring his mouth. They’d been sneaking time together for months and every time they were apart he told himself this wasn’t what it really was—wasn’t anything more than a friendship of convenience, a friendship that sometimes involved a lot of kissing. But when he was there, when he was looking at them, feeling them, tasting them, he knew he was full of shit when he pretended they were just two people with a common enemy.
Someday Quin would be dead and they would still be there, hopefully together, hopefully just like this.
He loved the weight of them on his lap, the heat of their skin, and the impatient way they kissed. He gripped their thighs, pressing fingers into denim and the flesh and muscle beneath. They rolled their hips against his and he groaned before he could catch himself.
He hadn’t meant to stay this long tonight. He needed to go. He could hear their strong pulse like a drum inside his head. Between hunger and lust, he was imagining being inside them in more ways than one. Neither way had happened yet and neither way was he going to push for.
He should break the kiss and politely excuse himself from whatever this was developing into. He should—
They cut their lip on his fang and all his thoughts died with a growl as their blood swelled on his tongue. They were still kissing him—oblivious to the cut.
Sam broke the kiss in a rush before he could latch onto their lip and suck at that wound. His eyes flashed open and they were both panting. He realized he’d stopped the kiss and pushed Darlin back with a hand to their neck. He let go immediately and would have jumped to his feet if they weren’t still perched on his lap. “I’m sorry,” he rushed, voice like gravel, his hand still up like surrender.
The wolf blinked at him, bottom lip beading red where his fang had sliced skin. “Sorry for what?”
He exhaled and slowly dropped his hand back down, resting it on their hip. He was relieved beyond thought for a second that they weren’t angry or worse, scared. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it if his wolf was ever scared of him, maybe because so little scared Darlin but mostly just because he knew he’d never be able to forget it if it happened. “I should get goin’, Darlin.”
“Why?” they asked.
He could see them thinking—second guessing. It was only a matter of time before they would get up and trail an apology or a joke at their own expense.
Sam reached out to cup the side of their neck, thumbing their jaw to resist the urge to rub the blood on their lip—to clean it up. He could still taste them. They were so warm and strong and vibrant. They didn’t even seem to notice the cut. “It’s been a while since I fed, Darlin. I’ll come back tomorrow night.” He owed them that much of an explanation, at least.
“Stay,” the asked, surprising them both with the note of vulnerability in that one word. They huffed a laugh and shrugged like they could take that back, pretend this was as casual as they both had been treating it. “I mean, I’m full of blood,” they offered with a wicked smirk.
He didn’t realize he was thumbing their jugular until he was imagining his mouth against their skin and that beat against his tongue. What was wrong with him? He’d gone longer without feeding without losing his mind like this. He’d been hungry and in the midst of bloodshed and still not felt tempted. Sam was nothing if not in control. “Have you ever been bitten before, Darlin?” he asked before he could stop himself.
Just asking it had him imagining it—imagining the sounds they would make and the way their body would buck and bow against his. But then he couldn’t help but imagine his wolf with someone else—some other vamp’s teeth in their skin, hands on their body, drawing out those sounds he craved to hear. No. Nope. He did not like that. He’d never been a jealous person before, not in any way. But he definitely wasn’t a fan of the idea of anyone else with them like that.
His wolf shrugged the way they usually did, like nothing mattered to them. “Sure, of course.”
Sam raised an eyebrow, smile pulling at one side of his mouth because that was bullshit. He was about to call them on it when he realized they might not be lying. His smile slipped and something cold slid through his heart. “You mean in fights with vampires, don’t you?”
Darlin stared back at him and shrugged, nodding.
He knew, of course. He’d healed some of that torn skin before and he’d seen other scars left from long ago fights where there had been no healer to patch them up. Darlin didn’t realize that biting in a fight and feeding weren’t the same—shouldn’t be the same. They weren’t even close. Biting in a fight was violent and mean—meant to hurt or kill. Why would they even offer if they were expecting that pain and brutality? “Did…Darlin, did you enjoy that?” He tried to keep his tone neutral. He didn’t need them feeling judged or defensive, he just needed to understand.
But his wolf wrinkled their nose and shuddered once in answer before suddenly schooling their features, worried about offending or somehow ruining the mood. It would be laughable if he wasn’t still so shocked. “No, but, I mean, I can handle it.” They even flashed a cocky smile. “I promise not to shift and bite you back.”
Sam was torn between laughing and wincing. Yes, his wolf was tough, but how could they really think he’d do that to them? Just because they could take pain and abuse did not mean that he would ever be okay with it happening to them let alone inflicting it himself. “Why would you offer that? Knowing how it hurts, why?”
Darlin stared at him, blushing slowly and forcing another shrug. “Because it’s you,” they admitted in a near whisper.
Sam sighed, soul deep. He hadn’t even been sure he still had a soul until those words dropped so innocently from their mouth.
He hadn’t had any intention of biting them tonight. But what they were offering him was so much more than blood. They thought he needed something from them and offered it willingly even when they expected pain and violence, maybe even more scars. Because it was him. Because he mattered to them. He didn’t understand that really, but he was pretty sure the wolf didn’t understand how they could be important to him either. All he could do was show them.
He let his gaze trail over their neck and his own hand still there, gently stroking his thumb against soft skin. “It won’t hurt, Darlin, I can promise you that. I wouldn’t let that happen.”
Their breath hitched a little. He’d noticed that always happened when he said soft things to them, something surprised always flitting across their gaze, like for a second they weren’t sure if it was a lie or a joke before realizing he meant it. Someday his wolf would stop looking surprised by care and affection. He was going to make sure of that.
He drew them closer and kissed them, finally licking the blood from their lips and letting himself enjoy it this time.
They rose from the couch, barely breaking from one another, always grabbing, reaching, and kissing. They shed clothing on the way to the bedroom, shirtless when they stretched out together on the bed, always touching. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen their skin without a bruise somewhere. He’d offered to heal them too but Darlin always declined that. Unless they were really busted up, they didn’t want him to waste the energy. They had no idea how willing he was to give everything to them.
He had his thigh between theirs, rolling his hips slowly to rub down on them again and again while he kissed his way across their jaw and down their neck. When he nipped they inhaled sharp, hips bucking a little. He grinned against their skin. They had a hand in his hair, holding on but not pulling him away. He loved the way they clung to him sometimes, when they weren’t thinking clear enough to worry about how he’d interpret it or if he’d reject them. He wouldn’t. Maybe they were starting to realize that.
He found the spot he wanted on their throat, licking the skin and tasting their pulse right there, so close. He was already hard, straining against his jeans. Darlin must have felt it because they moaned and rubbed up against him. There was a pretty good chance they’d both be making a mess of themselves if he bit now. “You’re sure?” he asked, voice a low growl against their skin. If they hesitated now, he wouldn’t bite. He’d clamp his fucking teeth together, get them both off, and then get out of there to look for a meal elsewhere and hope his wolf understood.
“Fuck,” Darlin growled back, hips bucking. “Bite me.”
He shuddered at the command and the urgency in their voice. Darlin threw themselves at all things, even him. But where they always expected impact in other endeavors, Sam was going to catch them.
He gently took hold of their jaw, tipping it back to give himself the best angle. He opened his mouth wide and sank his teeth in slowly. They were sharper than anything else he’d ever known, sliding right into skin. Darlin inhaled sharp, hand tightening in the back of his hair and body tensing, straining against the solid wall of his. He drank slowly, half of his mind completely blissed out to the wild, powerful blood swelling in his mouth and sliding down his throat. But the other half was honed-in on Darlin, on their little mewling sounds and twitching body.
He rolled his hip again, thigh rubbing against their denim clad sex. Darlin rolled their hips back and soon they had a slow, agonizing rhythm, almost in time to the swallows he took at their throat. Every second dragged out, longer than possible, until they were both shaking against the pleasure of it, both losing themselves in their damned pants.
Sam licked gently at the wound, used a bit of magic to heal it clean, and then kissed the skin. Precious. Darlin’s grip on his hair loosened and finally fell away, body spent and sprawled under him. He smiled knowingly, body practically pulsing with power after that feast. He kissed their jaw and leaned up to look down at their face. He had known it wouldn’t hurt, had known he could make it amazing, but he still checked just to be sure. “Different than in a fight?”
Darlin laughed, eyes still half-lidded. “Fuck. If you guys did that in fights, you’d win more often… I think I’d let you drain me if you wanted.”
Sam grinned wide. “Well, let’s not go that far.”
They needed to clean up. Darlin was worn out for the moment but because of their particular exchange, he had plenty of energy now. More than enough to get them both into the bath. He sat up and the spent wolf grabbed at his wrist, blinking against blood loss in an attempt to focus on him. “Stay?” they asked again.
He smiled softly. Like he would leave them now? Like this? No. Aside from wanting to stay and be close, he would be damned if he drained them and left them alone immediately after. He nodded. “I’m staying,” he promised.