The Showcase – Bite by Shannon Barber

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Showcase – Bite by Shannon Barber

The feeling of his breath on the back of my neck makes me tense from my hairline to my coccyx. He knows how I feel about that and I close my eyes, wait for him to come to his senses.

Back away.

I tuck my lower lip between my teeth and wait; he doesn’t say anything but I feel his long thin fingers move against the side of my throat, the tremor moves from his fingers to my flesh.

He thinks he’s slick; I know this game all too well. He will lick the shell of my ear and press his body just close enough to mine so I feel the suggestion of his cock and then he’ll be gone.

Normally I give in, I let him have his moment and I get over it.

Not tonight.

Tonight I’m too hungry for that. As I feel the flicker of his tongue and the bare brush of his body I reach back and hold onto his hip, I roll against him like a cat. I hold him where he is and move my hips slowly side to side. His fingers stop moving against my neck and the weight of his presence changes.

He is not ready for me. Not tonight.

Once he’s frozen I turn slowly and carefully to face him, using the small distance between our bodies as a buffer, he is tense and it makes me smile.

I don’t look at his face. I’m too careful. If I look the moment will be his and tonight I can’t have that.

Instead of looking at his face I look at his throat, I watch the artery there pulse for a moment before I trace it with a fingertip. The tension in him moves and settles into a deep thrum, a  vibrating tremor that makes him quiver and his breath catch in his throat.

“You know, most days you can get away with that.”

He starts to speak and I lay my hand over his mouth and shake my head.

“Oh no. Not tonight. Shhh.”

I tilt my head forward and use my other hand to yank the collar of his shirt down to expose a patch of his fuzzy skin. I have to stand on tiptoe and use the hand on his mouth for leverage to get myself to the right height and angle, when I’m satisfied I lean in and bite.

As I close my teeth tighter I feel the whimper behind his lips against my hand, he loves and hates to be bitten. I pull my head back, biting harder until I feel his hands on my ass start squeezing in a desperate rhythm. I’m tempted to hold on until tears start to trickle down his cheeks and I taste blood, but I don’t. I let go and admire my mark.

He tries to press his hips into mine but I shove him with the hand over his mouth.

“Get down.”

He lowers himself to his knees, moving carefully so as not to dislodge my hand from his mouth. His eyes are downcast and now I look at his face. There are tears in the corners of his eyes, caught on his lashes. I take my hand away and step back.

“Take your shirt off.”

Without looking at me he does as I say. I love looking at his bare torso, the pale marks where my teeth have broken his skin, the lingering deep blue and yellow bruises here and there. The diagonal slash of still red lines where I clawed him, marked him as mine.
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More about Shannon, in her own words:

Shannon Barber is a 34 year old author from the Pacific Northwest. She
writes fiction and creative non-fiction. To see more visit her website.