Bite My Fire: A Biting Love story.

by Mary Hughes

  Two could play at that game. I tugged his shirt up, slid my hands under to pet those amazing abs. Short little hairs tickled my fingers. Yummy. “The investigation goes fine. So why the basement? It’s not to grow mushrooms.”

  “No, it’s not. Any new suspects?” Bo nipped my lips, soothed them with the silk of his tongue. Shoot me with a Glock, the man could kiss. Heat curled in my belly.

  “Nobody new.” Drusilla wasn’t new, her ranking had just changed. I leaned in, kissed him back, touching my tongue to the chiseled edge of his upper lip. His lovely stomach clenched under my fingertips.

  He growled, low in his throat. “Do that again.”

  So I did. Tracing his lower lip with my tongue, I prompted, “Basement?”

  His stomach was still rippling under my fingers. “Some are guest rooms.” His arms banded around me. “I have a bedroom there, but it’s to sleep.”

  “The den?” I slid my tongue between his lips.

  He gave a soft groan and pulled me tighter. “Where I relax. Before you ask why, the smell and feel of the soil soothe me.” Mouth gliding tantalizingly over mine, he edged me toward the bed.

  “Uh-huh.” Answering a question before I asked, always suspicious. If he weren’t such a great kisser, I’d cuff him. To the four-poster. Spread eagle. Or maybe because he was such a great kisser… Focus. Questioning suspect. Handcuffed, naked suspect… I groaned.

  “I love those sounds you make, Detective.” He nuzzled my neck. “Those sexy little moans in the back of your throat.” His breath heated my skin.

  “Working,” I gasped. Yet my eyes closed, my head tilted to give him better access. I barely choked out, “What’s this room for?”

  “This is where I make love.”

  Make love. Bright heat exploded in my belly at that. “Not…me. Not now. I’m…on duty.”

  “You. Here. Now.” Bo took my mouth in a kiss so hungry and wanton, I knew he’d been holding back before. “I’m going to gobble you up, Detective. I can’t wait another second. I’m going to kiss you and lick you and taste you, all of you. I’ll make you come. Then I’ll mount you and fuck you until you’re screaming. And after we’re both sated I’m going to do it again.”

  I had two choices. I could either continue to ask questions…or I could finally get some.

  His tongue thrust into my mouth. He tasted of passion and need. Of hot, demanding male. My body quivered in immediate response.

  Okay. Maybe an early lunch break wouldn’t hurt. I rubbed myself against him. “Know what, Strongwell? We’re wearing too many clothes.”

  He growled. “Way too many.”

  After practically tearing me out of mine, he tossed me naked onto the bed. I leaned up on one elbow, eager to see him strip.

  But my eyes must have been affected by those five years, three months and five days. There he was, standing next to the bed, his gaze burning over my entire body like I was a yummy dessert. And then he sort of—wavered. Still Bo-shaped, but transparent. Gauzy. I could even see the paisley pattern on the curtains behind. And then he thinned almost to a cloud of mist.

  His clothes crumpled to the floor.

  I blinked. The illusion of mist was gone, and there he was. Viking-big, Viking strong.

  And totally, gloriously nude. And I thought, who the hell cares how he did it.

  He climbed on top of me, big and masculine. Naked flesh seared naked flesh. He was deliciously heavy covering me. His mouth was on my neck.

  I arched. “No biting.”

  He nibbled down my collarbone. “Not even one teeny love-nip?”

  “Not even a scrape of pearly whites.”

  “No?” He closed his incisors gently on one nipple and tugged.

  “Argh!” I came off the bed, smashing my breast into his face.

  Bo barely moved. “Was that a good argh or a bad argh?” He licked across to the other breast.

  “Bad argh.” I ended on a squeak when he latched onto the other nipple and sucked. “Argh,” I said. “Argh, argh.”

  “Bad argh?” Bo’s hand slid between us as he sucked.

  “Very bad—argh!”

  He found my clitoris with his fingers, took a good long stroke. I screamed. He chuckled, damn him.

  Somehow I found strength to pull out from under his captivating pleasure. “All right, enough.” I put both palms against his shoulders and pushed.

  I got the satisfaction of seeing confusion cross his features.

  “What’s wrong, Detective?” He sat back on his haunches. Muscles in his thighs and butt bunched deliciously.

  “Lie down, buster. You already did me earlier. Your turn.” All those articles, I had to try some of them. Like “Ten Reasons Licking His Popsicle Will Make Him All Yours”. Because I wanted this gorgeous male to be mine, all mine.

  A slow, sexy smile drifted onto his face. “Why, Detective. How democratic of you.” He stretched out on the bed, folding heavily muscled arms behind his head.

  I took his thick erection in one hand. It was hot velvet under my fingers. “You’re not completely off the hook, buster.” I cranked my hips up by his shoulders, so he could use his lovely strong hands on me. “You still have to do some work.”

  My words were muffled as I opened my mouth over the velvety head of his penis. He was seeping salt. A lick and a swirl gave my lips the lubrication they needed (“How to Blow ’Til He Explodes”, steps one and two).

  He still hadn’t touched me. Thinking he needed encouragement, I threw one leg over his neck, straddling his head. “Come on, big boy. Get your hands busy down there.”

  I fisted the base of his cock for balance, then clamped my mouth around him. He smelled and tasted squeaky clean. Eagerly I took my first big plunge.

  And nearly asphyxiated myself when he latched onto my pussy and suckled.

  Sweet exploding stars. I was shocked, but it felt so good. I stayed where I was, that monster cock embedded in my throat, and purred my happiness.

  My throat muscles worked him. Bo groaned. I pulled back slightly to tickle the eye of his cock with my tongue and he groaned again, deep in his chest, a rumble I could almost feel.

  It wasn’t me purring. I didn’t want to know what was making that lion’s purr. Or who. Even weird wasn’t going to stand in the way of this—this being a building pressure in my body that went beyond bathrooms and quickies in the street.

  Turned loose in private, Bo was a maestro. He rubbed and sucked, pressed a finger to my clit and vibrated until my blood boiled. Just as I was about to burst he backed off, licking gently.

  Then he started over again with the rubbing and sucking.

  “Hey, I was nearly there.”

  “I know.” There was a wealth of male knowledge and satisfaction in his voice. “I want this to last.”

  Frustrated, I rubbed myself. “What if I can’t wait?”

  He swatted my hand away. “I’m not giving you a choice. It’s my turn, remember?” He breathed on my pussy until I thought I’d scream.

  He began kissing my sensitive labia, gently, sweetly. Gifted me with light licks. He pushed me toward the edge slowly, deliberately, finally lapping until I parted.

  “Bo, please!” I pushed myself into him, desperate to satisfy my growing ache.

  “Not yet, Elena. I’m enjoying myself.” His teeth nipped my swollen outer lips. Bit and tugged gently. I wiggled in torment.

  Two could play that game, dammit.

  I kissed his sac, licked and nibbled. Played suck-the-popsicle with his shaft, enjoying the slick, smooth feel. At the top I took the head between my teeth, bit down lightly.

  He arched hard. Started lapping at my clitoris, running his tongue up and down the nose. Licking eagerly.

  Yeah. Got him. I started to come—and he backed off.

  Only to begin over, kissing and licking.

  I groaned in frustration. The purr (his purr?) rumbled deeply in my ears. “Fuck,” I muttered, sucking his cock back into my mouth. Glad one of us was enjoying himsel
f.

  Bo, in that slow, maddening way, drove me to the edge—again. This time as he lapped me near climax he thrust a single finger into me. Drove it in wetly, over and over. Slow. Deep.

  My hips rocked wantonly, trying to speed up the rhythm he set. I pressed myself harder against him as my arousal climbed. Mouthed his cock faster.

  But he thrust and sucked rhythmically. Patiently. Always that same slow, inexorable grinding and thrusting, driving me insane.

  I was dripping wet and ready to come. I’d been ready for hours it seemed, primed but kept on that sharp knife-edge by a master.

  He began sucking in counterpoint to his finger-thrusts. His hot mouth pulled on my bud with slowly increasing pressure. His finger drove into me, a bit deeper, a notch harder. I went higher yet.

  And then, suddenly, he changed rhythm, thrusting and sucking together.

  I shot scary-high. I lifted my mouth from his erection, panting. The Grand Canyon of orgasms loomed before me. I was hanging out the open door of a jet plane, about to plummet from the stratosphere. Facing a climax as hard as hitting earth at terminal velocity.

  Splat. Death by orgasm.

  Suddenly I didn’t want to fall.

  That’s when Bo grabbed my hips with both hands, sat up, and devoured me.

  My feet were in the air, my butt raised higher than my head. Blood rushed to my brain. And a man was eating me alive.

  I screamed. Death by orgasm, unless I incinerated first. Bo’s mouth was driving me into a raging inferno.

  Biting back another scream, I seized the root of his huge erection in two fists. Damned if I was dying alone. Opening my mouth wide, I rammed his penis down my throat. He growled his pleasure. I pistoned on that gorgeous cock ’til it practically smoked.

  The damned thing actually grew bigger.

  Rumbling filled my ears. Sharp nails pricked my butt. I ignored it all, slave to sensation. My tongue, rasping over his smooth, hard erection. Bo’s lips, silk on my wet vulva. His tongue, hot, rough, licking. A satin finger, running along my inner crease. Smooth and cool, rubbing deep while Bo licked me with the skill of a gourmand.

  Not a finger. Too sleek, too cool. Sliding along the crease as his hot tongue flicked my clit. More like a candle…or a knitting needle—

  Electric needles, the crack of lightning. An overpowering climax. Bo had his mouth down there. Just as he did now.

  “Don’t—!” Hot, sharp (omigod fangs?) speared my pussy.

  I detonated. Climaxed so hard I felt like I was imploding. So hard it terrified me. So hard I tried to stop, panicked by the colossal plunge.

  Bo seized my wiggling hips. His tongue worked me, stroking the climax bigger and stronger and harder. I writhed in extreme pleasure for what might have been eternity.

  He bit again. I shattered completely. Blew into a thousand pieces. A hoarse cry ripped from my throat. Never…oh, stars, I’d never… I felt absolutely, exquisitely destroyed.

  His licking changed, bringing me down. Soothing me. Caressing me, loving me gently.

  After that Uzi orgasm, I melted into a boneless, mindless blob. I was utterly relaxed, at peace. Maybe the orgasm really had killed me, and I was in heaven. Yeah. This was where good girls went. And bad girls. Mmm.

  When I opened my eyes I lay face-down on Bo’s body. My cheek was cushioned by his muscular thigh. Yummy. The heaven theory gained favor in my mind.

  Then I saw he was still semi-hard.

  I scrambled to face him. Well, more like oozed, but hey. “Didn’t you…?”

  “I did.” Bo raised himself on his elbows. His eyes were glowing slits. “There’s more.”

  Glancing over my shoulder I saw him expanding up his ripply belly. Yeah. There sure is.

  I managed to crawl into place and get one leg over his hips, though I was still more oozing than scrambling. He thought that was funny, by the curve of his lips.

  Too bad. Because this was it. The conclusion to the season-five cliffhanger of Elena’s Abstinence. I grabbed Bo’s erection in one fist and positioned myself. Straddled that gorgeous, tall sea monster and put the head into my vestibule.

  I was one stroke away from coming home. I looked at us where we joined. It looked like heaven. It felt like heaven. It sounded like—

  It sounded like my cell phone.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Fuck!” I stumbled off the bed. I was going to find my gun. Find my gun, find my phone, and shoot it.

  I wasted ten seconds turning around in circles, trying to find my jeans.

  “Here, Detective.” On his stomach, Bo leaned off the bed, plucked the phone from my pants and held it out to me. Amazing abs. As strong as they looked.

  I snatched the phone, swearing some more. What was wrong with me that I couldn’t catch a break? Murphyous Interruptus stalked me even here. Then I saw the number and groaned. Dirkenous Interruptus.

  But I was a responsible police officer. I followed all the rules. I flipped the phone open. “What?” Yeah, responsible officer, but damned frustrated responsible officer.

  “Detective Ma’am? Is something wrong?”

  Two seconds away from filling a five-year black hole… No, nothing wrong. “I’m fine, Ruffles. Why did you call? You find something?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Or, no, ma’am. Or—”

  “Just spit it out. Report.”

  “There’s no blood, Detective Ma’am. I looked in a ten-minute circle, like you said, but nothing. Should I go farther away?”

  About to say yes, my brain kicked in. “Schrimpf couldn’t have wandered far after Drusilla left him.” Not if he was as sated as I was after Bo…well. “A few blocks at most. Are you sure there was no blood?”

  Although if there was blood, even Dirkenstein couldn’t have missed it. Nine pints was a lot. Two pints in a quart, four quarts in a gallon…picture a gallon of spilled red milk. Major gaggage.

  “I didn’t see any, Detective Ma’am. Nobody else saw any, either. I went door-to-door.”

  Which meant…well, what did it mean? Had someone siphoned off all the blood?

  Or had someone sucked it out?

  Someone…like Bo? I couldn’t see him being the type to chomp balls. Pussies, yes. I ran a finger over my labia, surreptitiously checking them. Wet, but not bloody. Was I imagining it?

  I glanced at him. He lay on his back, hands folded behind his head. A small smile was on his face and a large one on his pecker. He didn’t look guilty. He looked smug. Or, considering my beyond-Asgard orgasm, maybe it was simple pride. Ooh, there was a theory that needed testing.

  Smack me with a nightstick. I had a murder to solve. The murderer might even be Mr. Bitey here. Yet all I wanted to do was pound his gorgeous warrior body into the mattress.

  I was so fucked.

  “Detective Ma’am? Are you there?”

  “Yes, Dirk.” I checked Bo’s bedside clock. Just before one a.m. “I need you to go back to the scene. Check inside all buildings and garages in the immediate vicinity.”

  “Immediate vicinity, yes, ma’am.” A pause. “Um, that means within ten minutes of the bar, right? Is that walking or driving? With a speed limit of twenty-five m.p.h. that would be about four miles except there’d have to be time for parking and killing so maybe only a couple miles and—”

  “Dirk! Focus.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Ow!”

  There was some muffled swearing. Ruffles must have saluted—and actually brained himself this time. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Oh, and good work so far, Detective Ruffles.”

  “Yes, Detective Ma’am. Thank you, Detective Ma’am. Ow!”

  The salute again, no doubt. Thank goodness Dirkenstein didn’t know karate. He’d have chopped his head open.

  As I closed the phone, I let it play in my mind. Missing blood. Mysterious biting boyfriend. Dirt floor dens and separate bedrooms for sleeping and…oh, yeah, making love.

  “What was that all about?” Bo, all ultra-casual sexy on the bed.

  It re
minded me of where we were before the electronic leash rang. Well. I could try to interrogate the suspect.

  Or I could get back to getting some.

  I wanted—no, I needed the completion that intercourse would give me. Not just because I’d been waiting five-plus years. No, not just because the last time I was in a bedroom with a sexy guy his cat had mistaken hairy balls for jingly balls and had done an impromptu vasectomy.

  But I needed this, I realized, for the simple human connection. With Bo.

  Okay, “human” might not have been the right term.

  I needed to put down the O’Rourke Rule Book for an hour. To try being spontaneous, being normal, just this once.

  So I smiled at Bo. “Do you really care what that was?” My voice emerged as a sultry purr. I crawled onto the bed.

  Bo smiled back and reached for me. Oh, yeah. This being myself felt absolutely awesome.

  My cell phone rang again.

  “Dammit!” I leaped off the bed and snatched it up. I was going to shoot it and launch it out the fourth-floor window. Then I caught the number, and swore. “It’s Tight-ass. I have to take this.”

  Bo sighed from the bed, so deep and wistful I nearly tossed the phone out anyway. My voice was clipped with frustration when I answered. “O’Rourke.”

  Titus was equally short. “Detective. Headquarters. Ten minutes. Got that?”

  “But…I’m on lunch break. Sir.”

  “I don’t care if you’re on your deathbed!” His voice scaled up an octave. “Unless you want to be Officer O’Rourke and back on the street, you’ll get your ass here.” He slammed the receiver down.

  I stared at my phone. Slowly closed it, wishing for once I wasn’t so damned responsible. Rules and regs had always been my salvation. Right now they were downright sadistic. “I have to go.”

  “I gathered as much.” Bo came off the bed in one graceful motion. He started hunting for my clothes, scattered to the four walls of the room as if he hadn’t taken them off me, but exploded them off.

  In contrast, his own lay in a neat pile next to the bed. I lifted his shirt. It revealed his pants. I lifted the pants. Underneath were his socks—still tucked in the shoes. I handed everything to him, remembering that weird way he’d seem to mist. Maybe it was possible to teleport out of clothes. A truly zipless fuck.