“Exactly which part of you felt a need to cover me in bite marks?” Saruhiko asked in a flat, disgusted tone as he tried to get his collar to hide the ones highest up.

“My mouth,” Misaki retorted. “Besides, like you can talk,” he growled back in frustration. He had scratch and bite marks all the way up to his neck. His looser clothes wouldn’t even begin to hide them. “I hate you.”

Saruhiko scoffed. “That’s not what you were saying last night.”

The smugness in his voice should’ve been annoying, but it just made Misaki blush hotly. “Shut up!”