C40 Submission
My teeth bite into him. But suddenly, I pull away. His usual lavender scent is mixed in with something else. Something that is too sweet, too bitter, too ugly. My instinct is screaming that I should not mark him. That there is something rotten in him.
I wipe my mouth as he lifts himself. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “Is it done?”
I glance at his neck. I have not even started yet
