Page 86 of Bite Me

Somewhere in that feeling, the fire of anger that once burned in me for him twists into searing pleasure, and I dig my fingers into the wall. My skin is abloom with feeling, as if every nerve in my body is firing in response to Dacre. There’s just that delicious smell I want on my tongue, a drive to pull him closer and closer until I bury my face in his hair.

My head tips back. I let him take more. My legs spread open, and his name rolls off my tongue. I fear he won’t understand, that he’ll stop and tell me that this is a joke.

But there’s no sign of stopping as he takes me again and again through the waves of pleasure that pump through my body. The high lasts seconds, and he gives me a few moments of softness before he draws another orgasm out of me with so little effort.

“We can’t do this again, Em.” His kisses mix with the wetness of my thighs.

“W-why?”

My breath shakes when he continues circling my clit with his tongue till the world shatters and my orgasm hits again.

“Because the next time I touch you like this, I’m going to fuck you, and then I’ll have to keep you all to myself.” He drags his tongue over my leg, and I’m flooded with the memory of his teeth into my skin.

I want it again. I want to do this all again. My legs are Jell-O, and he holds me when he stands.

“My world isn’t safe. I need you to know that.” His pupils are huge. “Do you understand?”

This is Dacre’s line in the sand. Stay away from me because I can’t stay away from you.

“I understand.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Dacre

I should have known there would be a dinner. Dinner for an Everhart is an affair that must be curated, from the napkins to the type of nuts in the appetizers. Our legacy was built on good food, so not anticipating a welcome dinner for the culinary club was an oversight.

Fingering the tablecloth in one hand, I stare at Emma, who’s seated at the other end of the table. Her hair is brushed away from her golden eyes, which sparkle in the candlelight. While I might not have planned for such an occasion, she came prepared with a cocktail dress and heels. I love that about her, how she’s always ready for anything and loves to make even the most mundane thing something to celebrate.

I still feel her wetness on my tongue as I sip the wine in front of me. She’s freshly showered, so there’s no trace of our interaction other than her relaxed shoulders and my intact sanity. To the rest of the table, we’re merely instructor and student.

Our time alone wasn’t enough, and I have no idea what the night will bring. I have to do something to keep Emma in my life because ignoring her and pushing her away is no longer an option. There are about a million reasons it won’t work, but I can’t ignore the possibility that it could now that she knows I don’t hate her and never did.

This is bound to be a bloodbath. Nothing in my life has ever been easy.

The door opens, and my grandfather emerges, as if to worsen my own inner turmoil. The familiar small feeling I often got as a child returns with a punch to my ribs. Two feet behind him is my brother Daniel, whom I haven’t seen for some time. Every conversation ceases, along with the clattering of silverware against the ceramic.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” Luther stands to shake my grandfather’s hand.

He hides his disdain well. There’s a long history between our families that goes well beyond Luther and me.

“My schedule opened up, and I thought it might be nice to surprise the group. No need for more pleasantries. You can all continue on with your meal.”

My grandfather takes the seat next to Emma, while my brother slides into the empty seat next to me. I tug at my shirt collar for some relief from the tightness in my chest. This isn’t good. There’s never any room for anything in my grandfather’s schedule.

“Dacre. You’re really growing up.”

“Do I spot a gray hair?” I ask.

It’s been at least a year since I’ve seen my brother. No letters. Not a phone call. Not that it bothers me. I’m more than happy to have my brother stay far away from me and my business.

“You’ll get there some day, and when you do, I’ll enjoy pointing it out incessantly.”

“Why are you here?” I pour myself another glass of wine and offer my brother some.

“Grandfather called me.”

That’s even worse. I can’t remember the last time my grandfather left me in the dark about anything.