Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
And truly, that is all that matters.
Nemeth takes each cake and breaks it in half, feeding a portion to the flickering candle in front of each of the triptych images. He chants the words of a prayer in Fellian, and when he places the hard cake into the flames, it lights up as if covered in pitch and flames to ashes in moments. He indicates I should do the same, and he patiently leads me through the Fellian prayer and the cake offering. We repeat that for each of the gods, and when there is nothing left but ashes, Nemeth takes the final cake, breaks it in half, and offers me a bite.
I eat it delicately, making sure to nip his fingers as he feeds me. Then I feed him, and his hot gaze devours mine, sending shivers of anticipation through my body.
“Now are we mated?” I ask, breathless, as I brush a crumb from his hard mouth.
Nemeth chuckles at my eagerness. “Not quite. Now we must give each other the bite of marking.”
Right. The bite-y part of the ceremony. That means we’re close to the end, at least. “Do you bite me first or me to you?”
“You bite me,” he says, and his green eyes flare, as if the thought excites him very much.
“All right, but my teeth are rather blunt. Don’t blame me if I gnaw for a bit.” I take the hand that he holds out to me, palm up, and eye him. “I’m a little afraid I’m going to hurt you.”
His lips twitch. “You will not.”
Hmph. He acts like I’ve got a mouth full of pillows. Teeth are still teeth and if I have to tear at his skin, it’s not going to be pleasant for either party. “Do you have the ink, then?”
Nemeth pulls out a small glass bottle with a flat bottom, likely used for dipping a quill pen. It’s full of dark, thick ink, and I bite my lip, realizing I really have to bite the man I love to show him I care. I glance up at Nemeth but the look on his face is unafraid. If anything, he looks excited at the prospect of my bite.
Well, all right, then. “Do I just bite down whenever? Is there a particular method?”
“However you like. Just do it wide enough and deep enough so it will leave a scar pattern of your teeth.”
I examine his hand, and the meaty portion just under his thumb. I lift it to my face, eyeing him, and his excitement heightens visibly. I’m glad this is a turn-on for one of us, at least. I lick the meat of his palm with a little smile, and then sink my teeth in before I can overthink things.
Immediately, I know I’m not biting hard enough. I can barely dig my teeth into his skin, and Nemeth shows no reaction to my bite, so I concentrate on bearing down as hard as I can. When I finally taste blood, I realize I’ve broken skin, and I make a noise of surprise.
“Don’t let go yet,” he whispers. “Bite harder, so you can mark me harder.”
Oh gods, why did that sound arousing? I do as he commands, and my mouth fills with a gush of his blood. Horrified, I draw back in surprise, spitting it out onto the floor, and swipe at my lips with my sleeve. “I’m sorry,” I say automatically. “Is that enough?”
Rivulets of blood slide down his palm, and the look he gives his hand is pleased indeed. “It is a fine bite.”
“Is it?” I grimace, still tasting copper. I scrub the sleeve over my mouth again, knowing I’m probably ruining my dress. I love the taste of Nemeth…but not his blood. “Can I see?”
He wipes the blood away with a brush of his fingers over the skin and shows me. Sure enough, there are the flat lines made by my front teeth and then the holes from my incisors, along with the rest of the bite that forms a ragged oval on the meat of his palm. More blood wells up, and instead of wiping it away, he picks up the pot of ink and pours it over the wound.
I wrinkle my nose at the sight, imagining the pain. “Does it hurt?”
“It is a good hurt,” he reassures me, producing a strip of white cloth and wrapping it around the fresh wound. Immediately, the cloth soaks with a mixture of ink and blood. “It is a wound I am proud to carry. May the mark last forever, and if it does not, you will have to refresh it for me.”
“Of course.” In that case, I hope it lasts forever. I’m going to feel the give of his flesh underneath my teeth in my nightmares, I just know it.
“Give me your hand.” Nemeth holds his out, his eyes feverishly bright.