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He’s not gonna lie and say that, just like so many other things, this is something he only feels like doing when it comes to Evangeline. No. This is surely about him. What makes it feel different, though, is this urge, impulse, almost a need that comes over him every time he watches her neck, or her pulse, or her lips for too long and thinks about how good it would feel to rasp his teeth over there. To feel the flush of her skin against his mouth. To wonder if she would care if he accidentally made a mark there.
He wasn’t very good at hiding that desire by the time they were… forced-partners. At some point, he even thinks he didn’t care about hiding at all. But it only got worse once they got together.
As soon as they started… dating? — he hates this word, he doesn’t think it’s good enough to describe what him and Evangeline have. She’s not just his girlfriend. She’s his everything. His life. His love. His true love. He doesn’t understand why they can’t introduce each other this way.
Anyways, as soon as they got together, they entered a honeymoon phase where all they could do was stay in bed all day. No clothes. With quick breaks for lunch or dinner, which always ended in a big mess on the nearest table in the Hollow’s tavern.
He discovered things about her that he had always wanted to know. Not just about her body, if that’s what you’re thinking — although it certainly satisfied a lot from his old desires. No. He’s talking about other things. Questions he wanted to ask, but couldn’t ‘cause he knew it would lead them even more close to the line he had cautiously drawn between them. The one that said they wouldn’t be friends. Or anything far or close from that.
He learned about her parents. He asked about her other favorites stories. Favorite musicals. He asked about her past friends. He even caught himself almost willing to listen to an extended version of her project of romance with that vampire boy.
He wasn’t surprise to discover that most of Evangeline’s favorite books were also fairytales. Saved from some found family trope here and there. But he couldn’t help but grimace at the mention of a vampire romance she had in her collection. Like, seriously?
And he wasn’t surprised at all to find out that, besides being her favorite male character in a storybook, he was also her favorite Fate even before they met. A fact he was sure she would never have admitted to him if they hadn’t fallen in love like that.
Despite his smugness, a genuine feeling of happiness was settled in his chest as he leaned in to kiss her. And he nibbled at her lips with renewed desire.
She had gasped. And for a moment, he worried that he might had hurt her. But she only nibbled at his lips back, twice as hard. He moaned. They stopped the talking after that.
It would have been fine if it only happened when they were kissing. But it was far from that. He discovered that, besides her lips or her earlobe, the desire to bite her pale skin was almost as strong as the desire to kiss her. He tried to retrain that. It would certainly be weird to bite all over her body, and he was somewhat afraid of harming her. But he couldn’t pretend not to notice the sounds she made when he lost control and bit the area where her neck found her shoulder, when everything inside her felt so good. Or the way her fingers pressed against his head back there, as if she were silently asking for him to do it again.
It didn’t take long for it to became a habit.
It started slowly, like little experiments here and there. Testing where it would provoke a reaction from her, when it was good, when it was not, when it was too much good.
He learned that she actually likes it. She liked when he nibbled at her skin and lightly grazed his teeth against the surface of her belly, or when he teased her inner thighs with the tip of his teeth. He could have simply asked immediately, but it wouldn’t have been as gratifying as when she said “yes” with that husky voice for the first time.
It didn’t take longer for him to ask if she would like for him to make a mark, either.
The first time it happened was on a very heated night. He was right on top of her, and her nails were scratching his back in a way that made his head fall back, and then fall over her neck. He had kissed and licked and bit there and then…
Can I left a mark? he projected to her.
He knew she would know what he was talking about.
(They came to an agreement about hickeys marks on their very first day together.)
She had answered “yes” in a way that made him think that she might liked it almost more than he does.
He tried to be gentle anyway, despite all his “freakiness” — as she would pull it —, he doesn’t really want to steal blood from her skin.
(He doesn’t mind if she wants to taste his, though)
What had really surprised him, however…
Was to discover he is not the only one inclined to it.
The first time he got suspicious that she might have been affected by his behavior, was this one when she leaned towards him, and he thought she was gonna kiss him, but instead…
She bit at his jawline.
It didn’t hurt at all. Barely left any evidence. But his body was covered in goosebumps, as if he had been pricked with a needle.
She chuckled at his probably surprised expression and simply licked and kissed the same spot, exactly like he does, massaging the likely red area with her tongue.
Look, he surely can’t conclude for sure that the newfound habit of hers has something to do with him. Contrary to what one might expect, he is not hundred percent sure that this might be an old habit she had even before she met him. And he’s not exactly in the mood to ask her: “Hey, Little Fox, please tell me, how exactly did you kiss Apollo and the vampire-boy like?” He might as well throw himself off a tower.
It was fine though. He wasn’t complaining. Far from that. Actually, it was like something switched on him every time she pressed her teeth against his shoulder or neck when everything was at its peak, making his voice grow hoarse and rough.
He only began to really reflect on this when her habits ceased to be reserved only for moments on bed and became… for any time of a day.
It wasn’t uncommon for him to be sitting on the tavern’s chair and for her to appear behind him, holding him as her teeth lightly grazed against the skin of his neck, making him almost spit out the food he was eating.
Or when they were together at… anywhere, really. In bed, on the settee, or even outside, on a blanket she would have spread on the grass for a picnic. She would sit on his lap while he talked about something and, suddenly, she would casually nibble on the back of his hands or his biceps, making him forgot about what he was saying for a moment, until, not bothered at all, she would invite him to continue.
She had grown greedier as time passed by. Pressing her teeth against the softness of his skin with more strength the most he seem to get used to it. And then, she would admire the little mark she would have left on his skin, which disappeared a few hours later.
He wonders if there is any chance that the effects of the vampire bites have resisted on their bodies even after they have overcome the activation period.
He surely blames it for this hunger that seems to wash over both of them.
No. Not really. It probably just accentuated a desire they already had.
There was also this one time, when Evangeline had convinced him to make a visit to LaLa because she missed her and firmly believed he did too. LaLa committed the mistake of leaving them both alone for a moment and caught them spreading bites of love around each other’s neck and collarbone when she came back. She looked really awkwardly at them and they had silently agreed to ignore this event in order to avoid more embarrassment.
Now, he had learned what each one of Evangeline’s little bites meant. He knew when she was doing it just because she could. He knew when she was doing this in a way to show her affection. And he knew when she was doing it because she wanted it to lead to something else.
(She would usually mix the graze of her teeth with the use of her tongue in his earlobe when it comes to the last one.)
“What are you thinking so hard about?” she asked, giggling lightly, playing with his fingers.
He looked down at her. She was sitting on his lap. Looking up at him with a bright and curiosity in her pretty grey eyes that made him want to lost into them.
“You.” he answered honestly.
She snorted affectionately, “Sugar-talker.” she accused.
“It’s true!” he replied defensively, his own nose twitching. She laughed again, and leaned in to rest her head in his chest. He hummed. Caressing her bare arm with the tip of his fingers.
“You smell good.” she murmured, noosing his neck and nibbling it slightly.
He laughed, though he could feel his skin prickling, “So good you decided you want to taste it?”
She hummed in agreement, and as her tongue slipped against his neck towards his earlobe and nibbled, he decided it was the time to stop talking again.