But for the past month, he’s continued the practice. It feels odd. They’re both adults and Nino has given his consent—even initiated. There’s no reason for Haruka to keep doing this.
Haruka blinks, the sudden unease like a veil over his head. “I… Well—”
“Are you feeding from me this way because it’s comfortable for you?” Nino interrupts. “Or because you’re worried about hurting me?”
Haruka rubs the back of his neck. “It is always my intention to make you feel comfortable in my presence and home. I take your confiding in me very seriously and I wish to be sensitive to what you’ve experienced.”
“I appreciate all that, it’s exactly why I trust you. But, here—”
Nino lets go of Haruka’s hand, then moves his fingers to unfasten the first few buttons on his shirt collar. Haruka’s burgundy eyes widen at his actions and Nino stifles the urge to laugh. He opens up his collar, takes hold of Haruka’s hand and slowly brings it up to his right shoulder, snaking it underneath the fabric of his shirt. He presses Haruka’s fingertips against his skin, guiding him to caress his upper back.
“Do you feel that?” Nino asks quietly, ignoring the warmth in his belly from Haruka’s fingers on his flesh.
“Mm,” is all Haruka says, his face full of trepidation.
“That’s where he bit me.” Nino sighs. “It was always in the same area, so there’s a cluster of bite marks in that spot. My skin never properly hardened there.”
Nino stops guiding Haruka’s hand and allows him to feel for himself. He softly strokes his long fingers across the old wounds.
“Is it sensitive to touch?” Haruka asks, finally breaking the silence.
“Yeah,” Nino says, staring into his eyes. “But it doesn’t hurt. I think as long as you don’t feed from me in that exact spot, we’re okay. You won’t break me. You can feed from me normally. And you don’t need to ask me every time, either. Remember? We’re friends. You don’t have to be so polite all the time.”
Haruka slides his hand from inside Nino’s shirt, then offers a weak smile. “I—This is the first time that I have had a relationship like this.”
“Like what?”
“A true friendship,” Haruka says. “Aside from Asao, everyone I have met across the span of my life has explicitly wanted something from me, or expected something of me. Not unusually something of a sexual nature. I have never been in this situation before, so please have patience with me.”
The vulnerability of Haruka’s confession surprises Nino. He smiles. “Of course.”
Haruka sits back a moment, blinking his bright eyes. He lifts up from the cushion, simultaneously running his fingers into the back of Nino’s hair and against his scalp. Cradling his head, Haruka leans into the left side of his neck. Nino’s heart rate skyrockets as he instinctively lifts his chin, stretching his neck to allow Haruka full access to his flesh. Trusting him.
When Nino feels him delicately drag his tongue up the length of his skin, his heart practically stops altogether. He clenches his eyes shut as something like fire engulfs his groin and abdomen, then shoots up the length of his spine. Haruka bites down. Nino swallows, stifling a groan of pleasure from the sensation of his incisors elongating and sinking deeper into his skin.
Haruka gently pulls to feed from him, and in exchange, Nino clearly senses his mind. Warm, quiet thoughts of gratitude and affection are being poured into him. The tenderness of it floods his body, making his breath short. It’s wonderful and singularly the most intimate thing Nino has ever experienced.
Haruka pulls again and something deeper within Nino shifts. Something primal, as if his nature is breathing and pulsing, desperately wishing to be released.
Pull harder… Nino’s eyes suddenly flash and burn golden. He needs Haruka to free it, to release it and claim it. The pressure and want of it are unbearable. Unexpected. Nino clenches the cushion in his fists as his shaft hardens in his pants. God…
Haruka lifts his mouth from his flesh. Nino sucks in a silent gasp as Haruka licks the space where he fed. Nino’s hands are shaking as he places them in his lap, a weak attempt to hide his arousal. When Haruka brings his face up from his neck, his beautiful eyes are glowing the color of red roses. Breathtaking.
He presses his forehead into him and Nino shuts his eyes tightly, his heart skipping from the closeness and cool scent of him. Haruka’s deep voice is soothing, like a spellbinding song to his ears. “Are you well? I intentionally did not feed too deeply.”
“Mmhm,” is all Nino can manage, his eyes still closed as he tries to calm his body and breathing. Haruka sits up. Nino casually grabs the large book he’s been reading and places it back in his lap. He avoids Haruka’s gaze by running his palms against his face, needing to do something to stop his hands from shaking.
“Are you alright?” Haruka asks. When Nino drops his hands and looks up, Haruka’s eyes have returned to their normal vintage wine color. Nino’s eyes are still burning, but there isn’t anything he can do about it except breathe until the rush of arousal passes.
“I’m fine,” Nino says as brightly as he can, looking down at the book and opening it to avoid Haruka’s eyes and the sexy little mole upside his nose. “Don’t worry about me… I can handle you.”
Haruka laughs in his deep, bubbly way. The way he always does when he’s unexpectedly amused by something. His smile is painfully sincere. “Thank you for always being so honest with me. If you are ever uncomfortable with our arrangement, please tell me. I—I would rather maintain our friendship over anything else.”
Feeling his eyes finally burn out, Nino takes a deep breath. “Okay, Haru. I will.”
Haruka moves back toward his spot on the floor within the cluster of books. As he sits and makes himself comfortable, Nino feels a genuine sense of panic in his chest. He closes his eyes and runs his palm down the length of his face again.
Can I handle him?
Seventeen
“Your grace, I must emphasize that I would never attempt to entrap nor coerce you.” Emory bows for the third time, his wrinkled hand reverently placed against his chest. “The very idea goes against the honor of my bloodline—”
“Emory, we do not need to do this on every occasion that we meet,” Haruka implores. “Sit down, please.”
Haruka sits across from a blundering, apologetic Emory. It is their monthly social visit. They are nearing the end of what has become their atonement ritual—initiated by Emory at the start of every meeting they’ve had since the weekend at Hertsmonceux a little over a month ago.
Emory bows a fourth time before he sits. Haruka is beginning to feel like a feudal lord. Which he hates. “Do you have any news on Gael?”
Emory runs his hand over his smooth gray head, his pale blue eyes distressed. “Unfortunately no, your grace. My son is still extremely troubled over the embarrassment, but I have made Gael’s realm leader aware of the circumstances. Have you ever met Ladislao Almeida?”
An image of the long-haired and chiseled male flashes in Haruka’s mind. Ladislao is prominent in both vampire and human society. Haruka has seen his face on the news often. “No, I have not. But I know of him.”
“Interesting creature, he is,” Emory says, raising a silver eyebrow. “I flew to Rio de Janeiro prior to the ceremony to pay my respects to him as Gael’s realm leader. He detests the frigidity of our traditional aristocracy and strongly wishes to immerse vampire culture with human culture, whether it be business, economy, arts…”
Emory leans forward, his face serious as he whispers, “And procreation, your grace. He openly has sex with humans. Can you believe it? A purebred doing this. He has low-level, half-vampire children scattered across his realm!”
His life, his business. Haruka assumes many vampires have intercourse with humans, but the practice is still largely taboo within their culture—especially for those who are higher-ranked. Human blood lacks the proper nourishment necessary for purebred, first-, second- and third-generation vampires to function at their optimum capacity.
