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The front door of the shrine slammed. Tomoe, chopping vegetables for soup in the kitchen, sensed Nanami’s anger before he heard her howl.
“Did you mark me?!” The question reverberated through the shrine.
His hackles raised, ears flattening against his skull at the thought of anyone harming her. He dropped his knife, vanishing, and materialized in the vestibule, where she was furiously ripping the shoes off her feet and dropping them on the rug.
“Tomoe!” she roared.
He flinched, grabbing her arm as she started to pound toward the kitchen. She reeled backward, slamming into his chest.
“I’m here. What’s wrong? Who hurt you?” He lifted her arm higher and sniffed at her. She smelled a little bit salty, from her apparent run home, and a little bit of her perfume (Meadow, it was called, though it smelled principally of rose), and other than a faint trace of adrenaline, there didn’t appear to be anything else wrong with her. She smelled fine.
Nanami yanked her arm out of his grasp. “Nothing happened to me,” she said impatiently. “But I was talking to Kurama today -”
Tomoe made a disapproving sound. “You should stay away from him,” he said. “I knew I should have dealt with him before he could become a problem.” He turned, dismissive, heading back toward the kitchen.
Nanami watched him for a second before tearing after him and tugging on his yukata.
“Kumara told me that you marked me. That he could smell it. That he could sense it,” she said, her outrage softening somewhat, as if she didn't want to put faith in the claim, since she didn't particularly like Kumara, but couldn't entirely dismiss it, either.
Tomoe glanced down at where she gripped his sleeve and then at her face. Although she’d gradually begun to trust him, she often heard things from the other familiars (fingers pointing at Kurama and Mizuki, here) that gave her deeper insight into familiar’s behavior than Tomoe wanted her to know. The less she knew, the more balanced their relationship was. It helped him feel as though he had more freedom. Also, he knew she didn’t like to think about how possessive familiars could be over their god. Tomoe wouldn’t have minded if she remained ignorant of the extent of his nature until the end of her days. Damn Kurama and his big mouth. He’d have to teach the unsavory little bastard a lesson in holding his tongue around Nanami.
Tomoe ducked close to her, the proximity enough to unnerve her. Her eyes widened, and more of her irritation dissipated. She knew that he lived to serve her, that whatever he did was for her benefit, and if he had marked her, there was a reasonable explanation behind it.
“Did you?” she asked, much more quietly. “Did you mark me?”
Tomoe reached a clawed hand toward her cheek, ignoring the delight that electrified him at the sight of her blush. He gently brushed the hair off her forehead and tucked it behind her ear.
“Of course I marked you,” he said, straightening away from her. “Can’t have any other familiars or yokai thinking you’re up for the taking. It’s my duty as your familiar.” He turned to enter the kitchen but she raced around him to block his path.
“How come I’ve never noticed it before?” she asked. “How are you marking me? And why didn’t you tell me you were doing it?”
He bared his teeth at her in warning. Truth was, he didn’t think about it as ‘marking.’ There was something primal about the word. This was tamer than that. If he actually marked her the way he wanted to...his tail twitched sharply behind him and desire spiked his chest.
“It’s not something...visible,” he said, shoving past her. Her arm brushed against his. He quivered as he moved to stand against the counter, where he’d left the knife and cutting board, and resumed his chopping vegetables in an attempt to distract himself from the conversation topic.
“Explain it to me,” she ordered.
Tomoe bared his teeth at her again, but his ears lifted away from his skull.
“For most yokai and familiars, the scent of me on you is enough to ward them off, keep them from messing with you. It’s in the food I prepare for you eat, the cat hood you wear. Just – as simple as being in my proximity,” he told her, using the knife to gesture toward the space between them.
Nanami crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay. But Kurama told me he could sense it, too. What did he mean by that?”
Tomoe paused, startled by the sudden rush of embarrassment. He never had to explain these to a god before. She was so raw and young and new.
Training his eyes on the cutting board, he said, “It’s our bond he senses, Nanami. Linked by our souls. I am your familiar, and you are my god. Once it settles and is accepted as permanence, it becomes more... present to other yokai.”
“Hmph.” He could tell she wanted to stay mad, but she wasn’t the sort who could. This was intriguing to her – every step farther she took into this world seemed to make her crave more information, which was only natural, he supposed.
She settled herself on the stool on the other side of the counter, chin cupped in her hands, mindlessly watching his hands work the knife. He assumed that she was done with the conversation, and began asking how her classes had gone, told her that dinner would be finished in another half hour or so when she blinked, eyes wide with curiosity and he knew that nope, she hadn’t finished asking questions yet. He braced himself for the next round.
“Are there...other ways...for familiars to mark their masters?” she asked. The corner of her mouth crooked up in such a teasing smile Tomoe wondered if she actually already knew the answer. He was going to murder Kurama as soon as he finished making Nanami’s dinner.
Tomoe’s nostrils flared. “Yes,” he said, curtly.
Her grin widened. “Like what?” she asked, all innocence.
Tomoe rolled his shoulders, trying to banish the images of him marking her in those other ways from his brain. That was the last thing he needed to be thinking about right now. He wasn’t allowed to...want her in those ways. Human and yokai relationships weren’t allowed to happen.
“Things I would ask your permission for before doing,” he said. He spun to dump the vegetables in the pot and gripped the counter for a moment, gouging his claws through it. Damn, how badly he wanted to mark her in those other ways. He wanted to mark her in ALL the ways. The problem was that she was too desirable and unknowingly enticed yokai in like magnets.
“Such as? Come on, Tomoe, tell me,” she whined. “Or I’ll just have to ask Kurama.”
He glitched through the kitchen, until he was standing beside her stool, pupils slit in fury. “You wouldn’t dare,” he hissed.
Nanami shrugged her shoulders. “Well, if you aren’t going to tell me, I have to get answers somewhere,” she said.
His hair bristled. He wanted to shake her or kiss her. To show her that he was hers to command, that she was his to protect, and no other yokai in the universe was ever going to be as close to her as he was. They’d sealed their pact with a kiss TWICE and he wasn’t going to let anyone jeopardize it. Not even super popular popstars who claimed to be fallen angels.
Tomoe grabbed her off the stool and slammed her back against the kitchen wall. Nanami lifted her chin to meet his eyes. She was so small, compared to him, so human and breakable. He wanted to lay claim to every inch of her body. How did she have so much power over him? How was it that he would willingly sacrifice everything for this girl?
“As your familiar,” he said, eyes scorching into hers, “I would never presume, but a more potent marking would be biting your neck.” He lifted a hand and scraped his claws gently down her throat. She swallowed against his touch.
“Another one, still more...feral...would be to claw you, right down your back.” He illustrated the movement for her, bringing both of his hands up to her shoulder blades and delicately dragging them down to the small of her back. She actually sucked in a breath at the suggestion, her eyes closing. She bit her lip, picturing it.
“And?” she said, eyes still closed. “What else?”
Tomoe really, really, really didn’t want to keep going. “To become one,” he finally said. “Would make you untouchable.” His voice dropped to the barest of whispers. He almost hoped she didn’t hear it. But her eyes popped open, and he knew she had.
“Oh,” she said, her cheeks turning red again, “you mean like,” she couldn’t say the word sex, but she gyrated her hips in lieu of the word and he nearly died of a heart attack right on the spot. He grabbed at her waist, to halt the movement.
“Yes, yes,” he said. “That.”
“Hmmmmmmmmm.” She scrutinized him for a long moment.
“And if I told you,” she said, the same devilish grin returning to her face, “that I wanted you to mark me – to mark my neck,” she clarified hastily, at his astonished expression, “would you do it?”
He swallowed. “Yes,” he finally said. “But it isn’t necessary. You’re still relatively new at this, and can’t have created the sort of enemy that would make that mark necessary.”
She nodded and nodded and nodded and then said, “What does it feel like?”
The thoughts eddied from his head. He shouldn’t have told her. He snarled at her, softly. “I thought you were upset with me for merely marking you with my scent.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled up at him.
“I dare you,” she said. “It’s what you wanted to do, isn’t it?” she guessed. “You think what you’re doing isn’t enough. You want to mark me like that.” Her eyebrow lifted in challenge. “So do it.” She tilted her head to the side, exposing the elegant slope of her neck. “Bite me,” she said.
To his credit, Tomoe tried to resist. He struggled against the command as long as he could stand, but it was a relentless explosion through his veins, combined with his ferocious desire for her, and it couldn’t have been longer than a second, maybe two, before he dropped his head against her and sank his teeth into her neck.
Gentle, gentle, he tried to remind himself, as he gathered her up against him. It was wildly intimate, to have his fangs pierce her skin, to taste her blood. He sucked hard on her skin before he caught himself and paused.
Nanami groaned, her fingers bunching the fabric at his shoulders, gripping it to haul herself higher, until she could lock her arms around his neck. Her scent screamed with her hunger for him to hold her tighter, to bite her harder, to press her softness to all the hardness of him. Mindlessly, he obeyed, one hand sliding down past the small of her back.
Then lower still, lifting her against him, while his other arm tightened around her waist. She fit so well against him, the piece he hadn’t realized he was missing.
He lapped at her skin with his tongue and she released an animal sound, throwing her head back to give him access to more of her neck. Oh, he was tempted. He wanted to bite her everywhere. Taste her everywhere.
His fangs bit deeper into her shoulder and a shudder racked her body. The sounds she made destroyed him.
Okay, he told himself. You need to stop now. You need to stop before this goes too far, before you can’t. Stop. Stop.
Oh, but she tasted so good! He couldn’t stand it. He lifted his mouth from her neck.
“No,” she said, eyes screwed shut, cheeks pink, lips slightly parted. “More.”
He licked across his bite mark. The skin was already darkened there. Satisfaction surged through him. In spite of his reservations, it was precisely what he’d wanted to do to her. Now everyone would know for certain that she was his to protect and treasure. He smiled smugly. It was a very good bite.
Nanami, wondering why he was still, opened her eyes again. Tomoe slowly lowered her to the floor.
“That’s enough,” he said. “You don’t need me to bite you everywhere. That’s sufficient.” Though, please, please tell me to, and I will, he thought.
Nanami stuck her lower lip out in a pout. One of her hands rose to cup against the mark, but she didn’t protest. Tomoe moved across the kitchen to the soup and stirred it, trying to get the scent of her out of his nose.
They were quiet for a few minutes. Nanami seemed to be rooted to the spot. He glanced over his shoulder at her.
“Well?” he asked, unable to stand it another second. “What did it feel like?”
Her eyes rose to his. Although her cheeks were still a little pink, her mouth curved in a mischievous smile. She tossed her hair over her shoulder as she turned on her heel, heading for her room.
“It felt like we’re going to add it to your morning smothering routine, I think,” she said.
Tomoe raised his eyes to the ceiling. Hell. Of course she had a biting kink. He was in trouble.