He's Whipped
he whispered impatiently,
I chuckled and kissed him back, then grazed my fangs on the special spot, then began to bite him and mark him as mine. It made him groan and squeezed my waist, but it also gave both of us pleasure. He leaned his head in the crook of my neck and let out a quiet moan, then I continued to lick the blood off of the wound, then a moment later, it healed and left a scar. Two crescent moon images.
Oh, so that's what a marking looked like. When I was a child, I thought mark was just simply a wound scar.
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