Bite Me, Asshole!

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Corbyn decided it would be funny to give me a margarita. Why? I don't know, he's as bright as a wooden lightbulb sometimes.

"Kitty, how do you feel?" He asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"I feeeeeel great!" I slur, flopping onto my back on the couch.

"Do you need anything, maybe some water?" Corbyn says, sitting on the opposite side of the couch.

"Mmmm," I think for a minute, saying the first thing that came to mind, "Bite me!"

"What?" Corbyn whispers, clearly surprised.

I sit up and crawl into his lap, straddling him.

"Bite me." I repeat, serious this time.

I don't know why, but some part of me really wanted this.

Corbyn smiles before leaning in. He bites my shoulder, not hard enough that it hurt, but hard enough that it felt... Kinda good.

I grab onto his arms and gasp lightly, closing my eyes.

He pulls back, and I open my eyes and glare.

"Bite me, asshole." I growl, surprising him.

I never really cuss, but buzzed me did apparently.

He leans in against, biting at a different spot. And he continues, marking up both of my shoulders.

It sparked something in me I've never really felt. I hope I don't remember this tomorrow, or I might actually want more of what's happening.

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