Religion [J.P.M.]

two.

He was panting when he collapsed next to me, his chest rising and falling faster than he could take in breaths.  I rolled onto my side, my hand trailing up his bare chest.  "Are you going to hold up your end of the bargain?" I ask, draping my thigh over his.

Sighing, March grabbed the knife from his bedside table and handed it to me.  "I don't know why you insist on asking, you know I'd let you do this any time you wanted."

I smiled and sat up, straddling his hips with my thighs.  "Oh, Mr. March, you know that's not an option." I take the blade and gently drag it across his chest, just scratching the surface of his skin.  Then, I bring the blade to his neck and press it deeper into his skin until blood breaks the surface and starts dripping down to his collarbone.  I bring it to my lips and lick the blood off before setting it on the bed beside me.  The taste was to-die-for.

My lips trailed from his neck down to his clavicle, where the blood pooled up in the indention of his collarbone.  I left little bruises and love bites down to his navel.  Blood dripped from my lips as I sat up, satisfied.  March glanced up at me, unaffected by the cut on his throat.  "Mr. March was my father, call me James."

"Whatever you say," I lean down and press my blood-soaked lips against his.  "James."

He sits up, glancing at the knife on the bed.  "That blood is going to make quite a stain."

I run a hand through his hair and press his face down to my chest.  "Don't worry about it.  You can get new sheets."

After a couple minutes, he looks up at me.  "You're here a bit early.  Devil's Night isn't for 2 days."

"I wanted to spend some time here, catch up with my friends and associates." I wipe some of the blood from his lip with my thumb.  "I believe we may be caught up already."

"Not quite." He pulls my hair to one side and starts nibbling my neck.  "How does dinner tonight sound?  Same place, just more clothing."

I run my nails down his back.  "Sounds lovely."