The sexually charged flirting mid-performance, the playful groping and pawing, the energy that seems to flow so naturally between them… just two band members in their element and keeping a crowd packed full of thirsty women entertained, right?
Not exactly.
The chemistry that flows between Ves and III, as you learned shortly after beginning your stint working as a makeup artist for the band, extends beyond the spectre of the spotlight. You naturally assumed them to be gay right at the start, until certain observances were made… III winking at you whenever you found yourself chatting to him, always finding a way to touch you in order to emphasise a point, his flirting becoming quite playful.
"Together is a strong word," he finally admitted, after the subject of him and Ves naturally occurred in conversation. "Think we're still seeing how it goes, y'know? We're both bi, obviously, but neither of us has ever openly dated a fella before, innit? Ain't that we're ashamed or nothing either, but it makes it a bit difficult, him being much more publicity shy than I am."
Ah, yes. The delicate logistics of their dynamic. III lives in a space where his identity is an open secret, recognised by fans but left unspoken. Ves, on the other hand, vanishes entirely the moment the spotlight fades. Bearing this in mind, the struggles the two might face are entirely understandable.
Their dalliance is somewhat common knowledge, but never broached by anyone close to them in as many words, the pair maintaining a distance around one another in the company of others. As the tour stretches on, though, you've found them becoming more open to the idea of relaxing that well-maintained distance around you, though.
"Oh, sorry!" you speak one afternoon, doing an about turn in the doorway of the dressing room after walking in on III sitting astride Ves, the two sharing a kiss. "I'll set up later, give you some alone time."
Ves shakes his head, beckoning you with his hand. "Darling, you're fine. Come in, we can calm this down a little."
III snorts against his neck, pressing a kiss there. "Speak for yourself. You've just been rubbing my cock through my jeans for the last five minutes. Ain't a lot of calming down I can do after that, unless you're planning on actually getting past the jeans, eh?"
"Don't mind me," you mutter, hunting around in your kit for a specific brush, your heart stilling when it hits you, your propensity for speaking thoughts you intended to leave solely within your head. Immediately, you feel the tell-tale tingle at your cheeks, inspecting the contents of your kit closer, able to feel their eyes upon you.
"Oh, voyeuristic, hm?" Ves speaks softly, a slight chuckle rippling his words. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't like the idea of that."
You just felt your heart leap into your throat.
"I did have a certain scenario in mind, though, should you be a willing participant?"
It's a calculated risk, effectively sexually propositioning someone in the workplace, especially in this current - and much needed - climate of vigilance against harassment. He's noticed you, though. Noticed the appreciative glances that have come from you towards him and his lover, never overtly, but this man, he always picks up on the details with a sharp eye.
You have been presented with a choice; stand there blushing furiously into the box crammed full of makeup paraphernalia, or straighten your damned spine, cease letting coyness override and march on over there discover the scenario he's ruminating upon.
Inhaling a fortifying breath, you turn and walk to them, your smile flirtatious. "This scenario…" you trail off, III shifting back a little on Ves's lap, his arm sliding to wrap around your thigh. Just the heat of his hand upon your skin sends pinpricks of pleasure rushing upwards.
"I sit here and watch," Ves nods, "while you play with him." He then raises an eyebrow. "Fair?"
Oh, the heat that begins to crackle deep in your belly, III's hand stroking the inside of your thigh where it hooks around from back to front, those huge, blue eyes stealing your gaze. Truly, you have never seen prettier eyes on a man, his eyelashes ridiculously long, like those of a baby cow.
Except the way he is looking at you holds none of the same innocence. "And of course, that'd extend to you being played with a little, too."
With his free hand, he pulls you to him, his height meaning you barely have to dip your head to capture his lips, the kiss softer than you expected. The chemistry in the air suddenly ignites as his hand moves up your leg without hesitation, fingertips brushing over your sex through your undies. You moan against his tongue, the rotation of his fingers effortlessly seeking your clit through the thin fabric divide making you spark, your own hand sliding down his chest and not hesitating in unfastening his jeans.
You can feel Ves's eyes upon you as you reach to pull his cock free, your heart fluttering to feel he's very well equipped, your hand starting at the base to pull up in a slow glide over that velvet encased steel. III's hips jolt forward, a grunt echoing his throat, taking your undies and giving them a tug.
"Take 'em off." The instruction, delivered almost gutturally by his already baritone-heavy voice, makes your tummy roll over pleasantly, pulling from the kiss to slide your pants down, leaving them at the side of your feet while III's hand pushes your thighs apart, fingers diving between your folds.
As soon as he feels how wet you are? "Fuck," he groans, turning to Ves. "You have to feel this. She's fucking soaked. It's lovely."
Without hesitation, a second hand reaches to join III's, the former slipping two fingers into the sopping clasp of your heat, Ves's exploring over your folds as your mouth returns to that of the hungry bassist, who kisses you with deep, fiery need.
You grip his cock a little tighter, feeling it bob against your palm as your hand massages his shaft, fingers wetted from the pearls of precum that trickle down. Feeling Ves's fingers move to rotate with the gentlest of pressure over your clit, III bends his fingers within the dewy clutch of you, his knuckles applying sumptuous pressure to your front wall. Right against the spot that has you seeing stars, and god, doesn't he know it as he chuckles against your lips.
"D'ya like that, love?"
"Fuck, oh!" Those words leave your lips on a sharp breath, III moving his kisses to your neck, teasing a soft bite that sends a bloom of pleasure over your nerves, Ves's mouth claiming yours as his other hand joins yours on III's cock.
You work him in tandem, a spit trail from Ves's mouth wetting him, their touch searing heat as they stroke you, the two men kissing one another in a needy blaze. The moans that pour from them both fuel your desire like a match being thrown into a tub of kerosene, III grabbing a nearby chair and moving it behind himself, shuffling off Ves's lap and pushing his jeans down further.
He removes his hand from you, grabbing your dress. "Off. I want you naked while you ride me."
Ohh? Ohhh… You can definitely oblige, your dress and bra removed, Ves hauling you to him greedily first with a needy kiss, his long fingers still stroking your clit rhythmically, mouth dipping then to suck your nipples in turn.
"Go get on him, love," he hums, pressing an open mouthed kiss against your chest. "I love watching when he has a beautiful woman fucking him."
You move astride III, still facing Ves, his eyes inking rapidly as he watches III take his cock in a firm grasp, positioning it at your opening as you slowly bring yourself down.Oh, god, how he fills you up entirely, his groan all grit as your soaking little cunt bathes his cock in that heavenly dew.
Beginning to bounce steadily, his hands grasp your hips, mouth planting kisses over your bare back as he groans, whispering cusses, his hands then shifting to splay your legs apart wider. Ves heeds the signal given, leaning forward, his tongue connecting with your clit and flicking, softly to begin with, the pleasure of it streaking up your spine like forked lightning.
It's reckless, it's all-out insanity, how quickly you caved to the desire of two men focusing in on your as their pleasure centre, your hands gripping in Ves's hair as he continues to beat his tongue quickly against your clit, III's mouth at your neck, his hands gripping beneath your thighs to steer you on his cock in the way he needs.
What he needs? Urgency. Hard, sharp upwards snaps of his hips fill and empty you possessively, and you wail at the deep punch of his cock sending sparks skittering through you. Your slick muscles begin to clench, the furnace of your release growing ever hotter, the embers gathering at the edges of your nerves and glowing… almost there…
"Fuck, yes! Ahhh!" you cry out, your legs locking, III fucking his cock into you boundlessly as Ves's lips latch around your clit, sucking with a throaty groan, sending you mindless.
"That's it, beautiful," he hums, "come for us."
You're close you can taste the colours of nirvana, biting your lip, throwing your head back as you begin to throb for them. That is, before oncoming voices suddenly growing louder have the three of you springing apart reluctantly, breathless and yearning, your clothes pulled back on rapidly, underwear snatched off the floor and speedily pocketed by Ves as II and IV enter the dressing room.
The timing!!
It's business as usual for the rest of the evening, yet the little glances the three of you exchange, unassuming as they may be, leave you feeling as if you have a forest fire burning unchecked beneath your skin. They had you so close to toppling for them that the persistent ache for release gnaws at you for the remainder of the night. So much so that you consider sneaking away to a quiet corner in order to get off.
Isn't delayed gratification the best kind, though?
A break in the tour means a night in a real hotel. Clean and refreshed, the band and crew alike cannot wait to trade their cramped bunks for proper beds. For the three of you, however, the night holds a far different appeal; a sultry promise echoing through your veins with the intensity of a battle drum as you imagine entwining as three once more.
A hurried performance was not enough for you. With them, you expect nothing less than a sexual symphony that lasts and lasts into the night. Luckily for you, this is exactly what you are about to receive, too…
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The first thing you registered wasn't light or sound -- it was the weight of the blankets, the way they held the heat from the night before like they were in on the secret. Your muscles felt slow and heavy, as though they'd been coaxed into softness and now refused to be anything else.
There was a faint soreness in your thighs, in the bend of your back. The kind of tenderness that didn't hurt -- it just reminded you, in the subtlest way, of how his hands had held you. How patient he'd been. How the hours had stretched into something quiet and consuming, until you weren't sure where his breathing ended and yours began.
You might have stayed drifting in that limbo if it weren't for the sound.
Low. Steady. Unmistakable.
Humming.
It came from somewhere past the bedroom door -- deep, resonant, unhurried, like he wasn't so much singing as letting the melody find its own way out of him. You caught fragments of notes, little shifts in pitch, almost conversational in the way they rose and fell.
Vessel.
You exhaled slowly into the pillow, trying to pretend you weren't already listening for the next note. Morning and you had never been on speaking terms. But he...he mad it hard to resent the hour.
The smell came next -- dark coffee, freshly ground. It slipped into the room alongside his voice, wrapping around you with the same inevitability. You pressed your face into the pillow, begging its feathers for just five more minutes.
The humming stopped. You heard the soft sound of ceramic on wood, the faint scuff of padded feet moving over the floor. And then -- him.
The mattress dipped under his weight. The calloused tips of his fingers whispered against the skin of your arm as they traced the curve from shoulder to wrist, slow enough that goosebumps rose in their wake.
"Someone's not a morning person," He said. The words were rough, softened by sleep, but there was something there -- the quiet amusement of someone who knew you well enough to expect your groan of protest.
"You're loud for this hour," You muttered, voice muffled by the pillow.
A low chuckle vibrated through the air between you. Then -- the humming again, but closer now. Close enough that you felt it against your skin before you heard it, his voice slipping under your defenses like warm water. His face rested on the top of your head, nose practically buried in your scent as the vibrations of his vocal chords tickled your scalp.
Not quite a kiss, but you felt the intent with the gesture. His other hand settled on your hip, thumb resting against the dip of bone. The touch was still careful, but not entirely chaste -- there was a leftover edge from the night before, something that said I remember and so do you.
You finally cracked an eye open, squinting up at him. Messy strands of hair tickled your eyelashes as he finally lowered his head, curling in the faint golden light. His posture was relaxed -- more than he would ever let any kind of lens see -- but his gaze held that steady pull, the one that made you feel like the rest of the world had been dismissed in favor of this bed, this hour, and you.
"Coffee," He said simply, tilting the mug towards you. His face begrudgingly moved to make room, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lip.
You sat up just enough to take it, your fingers brushing his in the exchange. The heat from the mug pooled into your palms, but his touch lingered longer than the transfer required.
Maybe you weren't ready for the day yet. Maybe you'd never be a morning person. But sitting there with coffee in your hands, his voice still humming low in the space between breaths -- it didn't feel like the morning was asking you to leave the warmth of last night.
— violet was already blooming around both of his eyes, the left one nearly swollen shut. his eyebrow was split and a bit of blood was still dripping from the cut.
Alpha & Omega - A Vampires!Sleep Token/Reader Story.
Oh, god. Here we go then, besties. A new story I am quietly quite nervous about sharing with you all as I have no idea how it'll be received. A plethora of you wanted a vampire fic, so here, ya got one!
As I mentioned a while ago, I wanted to work on the idea of the main character being part OC, part reader, so while my female lead Grace White is an OC of sorts, you read it as her, from the "you" perspective. I shall now away to bite my fingernails while waiting to see what you all think. Eeek!
Summary - In the tranquil village of Little Norton, your life can be described as comfortable, quiet and idyllic. One night, though, it takes a dark turn when you finally come face to face with the eerie presence you’ve sensed watching you from afar for months, encountering a mysterious vampire on your way home. His arrival in your life sets off a chain of events that lead to you becoming inextricably tied to him and his family, learning of the complex dynamics within it, as well as the greater purpose you represent to them.
A proposition and a promise are offered, yet to agree will see life as you know it changed forever. Are you ready for such a commitment, or will you leave them beneath the dark shadow that has followed the four undead men for centuries?
Words - 1,570
Warnings - Vampire fic, mentions of blood and gore, eventual smut. 18+ content, minors DNI!
Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed.
PROLOGUE.
The radiance of dusk threatens on the periphery of the sky, the sun rapidly sinking, casting its final hues of burned orange, a divine watercolour sending the day to sleep. The lullaby of nightfall blooms, the darkness unfolding. Shadows settle across the landscape, bringing forth within it all who wake beneath the ink of night.
It’s always under the gloomy cover of darkness lately, that you feel the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end, as if watched by something, someone, lurking within the bloom of dense black shadows. It skitters up your spine like a phantom’s touch, that feeling of presence at your back, yet there is never a physical entity. No bogeyman, no nothing.
That you can see, at least.
Your brain sends the message to your feet that haste is required all the same, rushing your steps along the narrow country lane. The light from The Red Lion, your local village pub illuminates your path, the chuckling and merriment of the patrons within just as warm as the glow coming from the windows.
“Hullo, Grace!”
Old Jack Shelton, the village butcher. A lovely man who probably should have retired some years ago, but loves his work far too much to lead an idle life. Marjorie, his kindly wife runs the small section at the back of the shop dedicated to local farmers produce, items such as eggs, cheese and preserves. They are a staple within the village as much as any of the buildings themselves.
You smile, waving, the smell of rich, slightly sweet pipe tobacco clouding the air thickly as you pass by. Oh, how he detested the implementation of the smoking ban all those years ago. He still gripes about it now.
“Hi, Jack. Cold one tonight, isn’t it?”
You don’t really know him well enough to go beyond such mild pleasantries as commentary on the weather, the old man obliging you in agreement and wishing you a safe journey home. A somewhat empty platitude, especially since the small village never truly seems to wake up. It’s a quintessentially quaint, sleepy little settlement carved within the picturesque English countryside.
There’s no pulse here, nothing vibrant, the tranquil beauty offered there the very draw to life in Little Norton, yet what you can feel at your back as you continue on past the pub has not only a pulse, but teeth.
It’s a sharp light splitting through the night air, yet cloaked and drawn back, and while it might be able to conceal itself from sight, it’s the energy of it that thrums out, bleeds into you like a watercolour. It seeps into your skin and coils around your bones, but the sensation of it is never warm. In bizarre juxtapose, it isn’t cold or foreboding, either.
It’s just there, and it’s been just there for months. What makes it even more curious a sensation is that it didn’t begin right there in your home village either.
The first instance of feeling as if you were being viewed from concealed eyes happened back in May, while you were on holiday in Tokyo. The presumption you held in mind at the time was that the energy, the vibe of the bustling metropolis was what you could sense as you trawled the streets during the night hours.
You never expected for it to pick back up again a mere two months after your arrival home, but put it to the back of your mind, dismissed it as simple paranoia and nothing more. The way it’s strengthened of late, though, you aren’t altogether sure if it truly is something solely located within the recesses of your own imagination.
It’s been five months, and still it persists.
“I know you’re there,” you breathe, your breath clouding white through the cold air surrounding you, your cottage around the bend in the road coming into sight. “I always know when you are. Whatever the fuck you are. Mightn't even be an actual thing. Maybe you’re a ghost? I dunno.”
A gentle breeze skims through the darkness, barren trees swaying from side to side as it dances with them, the huge, rolling fields flanking the lane dotted with the faintest outlines of the fluffy fleeced sheep who graze within them. The occasional baa breaks the silence, an owl hooting nearby, the night quiet other than the sounds of nature.
Rummaging in your bag for your keys, that ever-present feeling at your back intensifies, so much you that you gasp suddenly, your skin prickling, turning rapidly. Of course, there’s nothing there, not a soul, but the feeling lingers, unable to be shook, pouring and pooling over you thickly like tar. It clings, and you feel your heartbeat accelerating, finally retrieving your keys from under the hiding place of your makeup bag and turning.
That’s when you see him.
Your path is blocked by the enormity of him, your eyes widening, a shrill scream ripping through your throat. Can Jack even hear you from here, your last vestige of safety? Will the kindly, pipe smoking man rally a few of the other villagers and run to your aid after hearing your terrified shriek? Your housemate will be no use to you, likely with his earbuds jammed in, listening to a podcast.
Stepping backwards, you attempt to look away from the being, the creature, whatever the hell he is who's suddenly blocking your path. Quivering all over, you jam your keys between your fingers, thrusting your fist forward.
“G-get away f-f-from m-me.”
He makes no move towards you, simply standing rocklike there in the middle of the narrow pavement. Your eyes flit over him, picking out the details quickly, mind in a whir as it attempts to process them. He, it, whatever he is, is not attired like a regular person.
A long, black robe adorns him, hood pulled up over his head, an intricate mask hiding half of his face. Flashes of gold decorate him, necklaces that hang low over his well-defined chest, his rings catching the twinkle from the pale light of the moon.
He remains motionless, stiller than an ancient statue, his bare chest as well as any other revealed flesh pitch black as the night that surrounds you, not even trembling in the cold. Not even breathing.
Oh, god.
You blink, and in the space of it, he’s no longer a few feet in front of you. He’s so close, the deadness in him bleeds into you, that swirling mass of nothing within the vessel of what used to carry the essence of a human so palpably radiant, you understand now why you always felt him there so strongly. It’s confirmed to you, and the horror of realising who and what he is clutches at your heart like the grip of an iron fist.
Trembling, you attempt to put space between you, stumbling, feeling yourself about to trip and land on your back. He moves, swifter than your eyes can detect, a gentle grasp around your upper arm preventing your tumble. He stares at you, his eyes concealed behind the intricacy of the mask, waiting until you regain your footing before he lets you go.
You almost feel like he’s gazing through you, attempting to see straight into your depths, and you feel yourself blush, your heart crashing in wild palpitations against your ribs. He leans close, and you see them through the thick, black gauze. Red eyes, glowing vermilion, unblinking yet not unkind. Not predatory either; yet studying you with the same intensity and curiosity all the same.
Something in you slackens, a feeling of unclenching, realising that if he meant you harm it would have likely befallen you by now. You know exactly what he is, and they do not toy. Not if they’re hunting. Not if they’re hungry. Instead, you experience a bizarre sensation, a feeling of ease floating over you, soothing the nervousness coiling tight inside your tummy like a venomous snake; one you are still not a hundred percent sure is going to strike you or not.
He leans closer, and his scent is enchanting, his aura matching, pulsing with a radiance that echoes into your skin. You hear the whir of air, and realise he’s breathing in, something quite unnecessary for a creature who doesn’t need to, his closeness making every hair on your arms stand on end.
Straightening, he looks down upon you, and with a slow, deliberate, creepy tilt of his head, he smiles. God, he’s beautiful. Every better judgement within screams at you in jaggedly shrill cries not to notice it, that the captivating beauty of him is likely his trap, one which you could tumble so easily into the jaws of.
You wait for it, wincing, your fingers wringing around your keys.
He lifts his chin. “Omega.”
In a blink, you’re alone again, that prickling feeling at your back eased entirely. Letting out the breath you weren’t consciously holding, you feel your vision open up once more, the night broadening back now he isn’t demanding your gaze.
Your eyebrows knit, shaking your head. Omega? What in the world does omega mean? Well, you know the actual meaning of the word, omega being the end, but why in the name of all things sensical did he speak it to you? Turning, you search the blackness for him, finding no sign.
A heavy sigh forces from between your lips. “Fucking vampires!”
Did you enjoy what you just read? If so, please help your author out by commenting/reblogging. If you want to be added to the taglist, please do let me know, too!
Well, with work being slow at the moment, you guys get to benefit from my having stacks of spare time to write in! Enjoy, my iii lovelies!
Words - 3,130
Warnings - iii/Virgin!reader, use of asterisks instead of his real name, smut (obvs.) below the cut, minors DNI!
It was the way he made you laugh when you first met him that sealed it. Well, that and the fact he was tall and cute, too. And forward, but in the sweetest, most non-threatening way.
“Don’t mind me,” he spoke, seating himself next to you where you waited in a bar for your friends to turn up. You looked up in surprise, following his nod. “I don’t like the way those guys over there are looking at you. Girl on her own and all that? Nope. Don’t like it.”
He then offered his hand and his name, and you were wary for a few minutes before you worked out that chivalry really wasn’t dead. Especially when he said he wanted to buy you a drink, but didn’t want you to worry that he was some dodgy, drink spiking prick, as he worded it, so slid his card across the table and told you to go and get whatever you wanted, and a pint of Coke for him.
“Oh, don’t you drink?” you inquired, being met by a cheeky grin.
“Yeah, yeah I do, but not before work.” He then jerked his head backwards. “My job involves being in there in a bit, actually.”
The direction? The music venue just across the way from Cafe Rouge, where you were both sitting at the time. You then sat and chatted with him, finding that he was more of a listener than anything else, remaining a little vague about himself. Still, what he did say was laced in self-deprecating humour and the kind of comedic anecdotes that had you legitimately howling with laughter.
Your friends turned up, and he was lovely to them, too, excusing himself and telling you it had been nice to meet you. He then arrived back after fifteen minutes with a handful of wristbands that got you backstage. After thanking him profusely, he said he’d catch up with you later that evening, and that somebody would tell you where to go when you arrived and showed them you had such privileges.
“Does he work for the band or something?” you best friend had asked you.
You shrugged, sealing down the sticky section of the wrist band. “I have no idea! I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?”
When you did, though, oh...
You’d been ushered to the side of the stage to watch, tucked away from where the crew were all systems go, having a wonderful vantage point for the show. When Sleep Token finally came out, you’d given up hope of seeing the nice guy who you’d enjoyed having a little chat and flirt with so much, the tall fella with the lovely eyes nowhere to be seen.
Until, that was, iii broke away from where he was standing, strode right on up to you, lifted his mask and kissed your cheek.
Oh. There he was.
“Ello!”
You nearly died on the spot.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried, watching him beaming a massive grin.
“Because the look on your face right now is priceless!” he laughed, lowering his mask again. “Shut your mouth, you’ll catch flies. Or wasps. Wasps would be bad. Or bees!”
Again, you were in hysterics, giving him a little hug before he moved away, ready to climb up on the stage. At the end of that night, you exchanged numbers, numbers and the kind of kisses that left your knees virtually knocking together.
That was two months ago, and you’ve been dating him since. All the while harbouring a little secret of your own that truly, you need to get around to revealing.
When you actually do, it’s his face that’s a picture.
“Really?”
“Yes,” you confirm, watching his mouth fall open and close a few times, his brain attempting to process the information.
It doesn’t really land. “But seriously, though. Never?”
“No, never.”
“And you’re sure you want me to be your first?”
“Absolutely sure.”
He makes a noise of dread, hiding his face in his hands for a second. “Oh, Jesus. No pressure or anything. Arrrgh!” You snort a laugh, shaking your head, resting it against his shoulder. “What?” he demands lightly.
“I’m the virgin and you’re the one panicking about it!” you cry, feeling him put his arms around you and pull you into one of his lovely cuddles.
“Yeah, because I want it to be amazing for you, and me? I’m a bit of flid, aren’t I?”
Again, you’re shaking with laughter, stroking the nape of his neck, fingertips brushing over the shortly shaved hairs. “You’re lovely, is what you are.”
“No, you’re lovely,” he corrects, “I’m a disaster on giraffe legs!”
This man and his humour. You’ve never met anyone like him, him and his long, giraffe legs.
Moving to sit astride him, you stroke the side of his neck, leaning in for a kiss. “A disaster I happen to really like.” More kisses follow, your hands moving to tentatively grasp his hoodie and begin to push it down his arms.
Oh. Oh, you want him to be your first right now? His brain engages again then, standing up with you clung on around him, more than happy to oblige. In the back of his mind, though, he’s still panicking a little, never actually having taken someone’s virginity before, at least as far as he knows.
Lying you down on his bed, he pauses, hands bracketing your waist as a small frown creases between his brows. “Are you sure?” You nod, but he can see it in your eyes, a little slither of nervousness. “Completely sure? Because you’re about to see me naked and I have to confess, I’m not even a man underneath the clothes. Really, I’m a midget and six otters all sitting on each other’s shoulders.”
That does the trick, and he smiles, seeing you relax into giggles, iii pulling off his t shirt and folding at the waist to kiss you. You’re not entirely chilled out, though, and he can tell, having to part your legs with his hands to comfortably slot himself between them. “This all goes at your pace, okay?” he murmurs, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you want to stop, or don’t like anything I’m doing, you tell me, alright?”
God, he’s the sweetest. You nod, and he kisses you again, resting his weight a little more atop you. To feel a man’s body against yours like this for the first time has something pleasant blooming through your tummy, a little flock of butterflies taking flight, your hands moving to explore him. His skin, oh! It’s about the softest skin you’ve ever felt, your fingers gliding over his back, his breath shuddering against the honey-sweet kisses that suddenly gain a lot more intensity
It’s alien to you entirely, a true case of never been touched, but it all feels so shiny and new, a path you’re glad you waited to tread upon until you found the right person. He most definitely is. You can physically feel it, the excitement of the moment cording through his lithe form, his breath hitching as your hands grasp his bum, pulling him against you, a swollen bulge in the front of his jeans meeting with your apex.
Wow, that’s really, really hard. A little unnerving, too, but you know he’s going to take care of you. His mouth moves to your neck, tentative touches gliding, skilled fingertips stroking your bare arms, teasing the straps of your top down, his mouth following their path. All the while, he keeps looking back at you, silently checking in, asking permission. Those kisses flutter over the rise of each breast, iii lowering your top, his hand reaching beneath you to flick your bra undone.
One attempt and the clasp yields. Never let it be said that bassists don’t have precision quite literally at their fingertips.
Pulling your bra away, he’s left with the bunch of your top, shaking his head and cringing slightly. “Should’ve taken that the other way.” he whispers, laughing softly through his nose while you ease it over your head. His eyes then lower, focusing on your chest, fingers gently circling each nipple in turn. “Mmm, gorgeous tits.”
The path his fingertips took is followed by his tongue, and it makes it feel more real then, that first truly intimate touch, mouth sucking each nipple with hunger as you arch against him, hands grasping at his shoulders. A glow spreads from the pit of your groin, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, a stinging sensation you’re unfamiliar with prickling your insides and making you shift a little beneath him.
Immediately, he stops. “You okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just...” you trail off, feeling heat at your cheeks. “I feel weird. It’s stinging.” Your eyes cast downwards, iii nodding, kissing the tip of your nose.
“It’s meant to, lovely,” he assures you, “just your body responding as it should. Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll make it feel better for you, too.”
His assurances sets you at ease, pulling him to you, kissing you, silently thanking him for taking such amazing care of you when he knows you’re nervous, iii sinking from your grasp and beginning to leave a trail of descending kisses. His fingers move to your leggings, grasping them, pulling them down along with your underwear, not realising he’s as close as he is to the edge of the bed and comically taking a tumble to his knees.
“Told you I’m a flid!” he laughs, grasping your thighs and dragging your body with ease to the edge of the mattress. “One who’s good with his tongue, though, apparently.” He winks, and it sends a little flurry of excitement through you, but equally you’re apprehensive about him seeing you so up close.
He senses it, though, meeting resistance when he attempts to spread your thighs, hands stroking, lips pressing careful kisses against your knee. “Don’t be shy, baby. Let me see how pretty you are, because I bet you really fucking are.”
His voice is steadying, his words your anchor, a balm poured over your slightly jittery nerves, allowing his hands to part you. “Oh, yeah,” he murmurs, his voice thick with arousal as he views you. “Absolutely fucking beautiful.” His eyes close, long eyelashes casting sooty shadows beneath his eyelids as his tongue takes its first sweeping lick at you.
The invasion of your slit makes your eyes roll back in your head, the yearning for something more you’d been feeling gratified beyond comprehension as he repeats the action again. Your hips shake, trembles spreading through your body as you’re continuously licked at, iii flattening his tongue against you and sliding it over every last bit of your hot, pink flesh.
Every time he licks against your clit, you jolt keenly, biting your lip hard as your squirm against his mouth and whimper in bliss, scarcely able to believe anything could feel this good. His hands rest at your hips as his tongue starts to slowly circle your bud, relishing in how wet you’re getting for him.
He teases licks through your silky nectar, rolling soft, the taste of you divine. It flutters over your clit, settling there, the light contact sending little shocks skittering through you. The intimacy of his mouth being right there against your sex is so incredible, you can barely form thought other than how you don’t want him to stop.
“Good?”
He knows he’s good, but you appreciate the check in all the same. “So good!” you hiss, and he smiles against you, firming the contact, each lick placed in time with how your hips begin to gently sway from the bed. The sound of his tongue trawling over your wet petals fills the air, and he moans, sucking you, hands grasping firm upon your thighs.
“You taste fucking beautiful,” he groans, tongue beginning to beat with a little more pressure, his fingers easing their way into the soaking mess of your core. “And you’re so, so wet. Fuck! There’s a little puddle on my bed.”
“Oh, sorry!”
He laughs softly, your naivety making his heart skip. “Don’t be, it isn’t a bad thing!” Looking up, he can see you’ve started to blush, iii reaching to stroke your cheek. “Oi, don’t you dare be embarrassed. It’s gonna get a bit... squelchy, for lack of a better word. It’s meant to, though.”
He smiles at you again, thinking to himself how utterly lovely you are, kissing your folds a few times, a happy rumble sounding his throat. He continues then, giving you the most incredible pleasure you’ve felt, clever fingers circling in time with his tongue, stroking your cunt as he explores you. He seeks out little spots that have you making sweet exclamations of bliss for him, ebullience bursting against his fingertips.
Oh yes, bassists are a dextrous breed for sure.
Your slippery walls begin to flex around his fingers, his tongue continuing to coax ecstasy from you, your soft moans becoming louder, biting your lip as your back arches, being penetrated quicker. You can barely form thought, it feels so amazing, so utterly incredible, sizzling tingles spreading through you as waves begin to wash golden at the base of your spine.
It becomes warmer, tighter, everything intensifying as you pant, wailing abundantly as he absolutely assails you.
You become incoherent as the coil in your belly tightens, snapping, white hot glimmers exploding as you come against his tongue. Wow, so that’s what an orgasm given by someone else rather than yourself feels like, then, iii looking very pleased with himself as he emerges from between your thighs, tongue circling your navel as he sheds himself of his jeans and boxers.
His mouth returns to yours, body sinking into the cradle of your hips, his hard cock rubbing through the slick mess of your folds a few times, deep groans tumbling from his throat at feeling you, so wet and needy against him.
“Are you going to, ah, put on...”
“Yeah,” he assures you, “course, I will. I’ll be a good boy, just let me be bad for a few seconds because shit, you feel fucking amazing against my dick.”
He continues trawling through your folds, your post-orgasmic sensitivity stroked back to tingling little pulses as you get off on it, every ridge of his cock stroking the most perfect stimulation against you. Kissing you intensely, it’s a storm of keenness and longing, reaching beneath his bed and locating what he needs before sitting back on his heels, quickly pulling the condom on.
His gaze finds yours, eyes all lust blown and heavy lidded. “You sure?” he asks. “You can still say no. I won’t be pissed off, but I’ll have to go and have a wank and probably walk around with my bottom lip hanging out for the rest of the day, like.”
You giggle, pulling him to you. “You’d better fuck me good, honey.”
“Mm,” he hums, kissing you, easing himself into the clutch of your cunt, just enough to part your walls. “I will, beautiful.” His hips send him into you fully, a fluid push that opens you around him. You gasp, and he kisses it from your lips, your tongues swirling together with syrupy heat as he slowly drags back before arrowing into you again.
“That okay?”
“Yes,” you sigh, stroking his face, “you feel amazing!”
He nuzzles you, fingers stroking the sides of your neck. “Yeah, so do you.”
You thought the first time was supposed to hurt, but pain is the last thing you experience. It’s a strange but beautiful sensation, having someone inside of you, his body moving in sync with yours as you arch against him. He’s still holding back a little, and your hands tour down his back, gripping his bum to urge him forth.
His thrusts rut a little deeper, but he keeps it slow, his moans gritty as he kisses the side of your neck, basking in the divinity of finally being inside you.
“Fuck, yeah,” he pants, “ahhh, you feel so fucking good.”
Closing your eyes, you lose yourself to the moment completely, gasping and crying out as he fills and empties you at a steady rate, your neck and clavicles the focal point of his mouth. What he gives you is pure, unbridled ecstasy, your whole groin alight with the kind of sensations you’ve never felt before and never, ever want to stop feeling either.
“Please, ****. Harder,” you plead of him, watching him raise an eyebrow at you sexily, smirking before he leans down to kiss you.
“Need a damned good pounding, huh?” Your vigorous nod has him chuckling throatily, watching the fire in your eyes dancing. “Alright. I can do that.” Your jaw practically unhinges itself when he thrusts into you forcefully, wailing in bliss as he increases both pace and voracity, moving his weight off you as he sits up and pulls your legs over his shoulders.
It becomes unfettered, his gorgeous cock rapid within you, your hands gripping his arms as he starts to really fuck you hard, your screams filling the room as it truly lands with you that you’re a virgin no longer.
Everything is fervid, uncontained and magmatic, both of you spiralling headlong into the kind of release that has your moans and groans filling the air along with the sound of your skin smacking together, an undoing of burning brilliance charging through you and rendering you an absolute wreck beneath him.
He lies on top of you for what feels like a very long time, both of you kissing and stroking one another as the fiery pleasure ebbs away, your walls fluttering with little contractions around his cock as your breathing becomes steadier once more.
“I will move, eventually,” he speaks, looking down at you adoringly. “I just can’t right now. Brain go brrrrr.” He crosses his eyes, making you laugh softly, kissing him again. You enjoy the weight of him pressing you into the bed, iii eventually moving, disposing of the condom before moving to lie at your side.
“So, what else did you want to do today?” he asks, fingertips idly stroking your sternum.
“Erm, you? I’m good with doing you a few more times,” you purr.
He beams. “Cool. You might have to let me go out and buy supplies. I’ve only got three condoms left.”
Your eyebrows rise. “You’re planning on needing more than three?”
“Yeah,” he confirms, grinning wickedly as he moves to lie atop you again. “I should probably tell you now, I’m a bit of a sex fiend. Now you’ve lit my fuse, it isn’t gonna go out any time soon.”
That really isn’t a problem for you. Not with how much you enjoy being warmed by his fire.
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Happy New Year, guys! I hope you all had a lovely time over the festive period and didn't miss the story too much while I had a little posting break. We're back to it now, though, and this is the longest chapter to date, a 9k+ monster of a read! Enjoy :)
Summary - In the tranquil village of Little Norton, your life can be described as comfortable, quiet and idyllic. One night, though, it takes a dark turn when you finally come face to face with the eerie presence you’ve sensed watching you from afar for months, encountering a mysterious vampire on your way home. His arrival in your life sets off a chain of events that lead to you becoming inextricably tied to him and his family, learning of the complex dynamics within it, as well as the greater purpose you represent to them.
A proposition and a promise are offered, yet to agree will see life as you know it changed forever. Are you ready for such a commitment, or will you leave them beneath the dark shadow that has followed the four undead men for centuries?
Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One
Words - 9,104
Warnings - Vampire fic, mentions of blood and gore, plus lots of smut. 18+ content, minors DNI!
Tag list - In the comments, please DM/comment to be added/removed.
“Dad! What the... what the hell?”
The shock of your his actions makes a wave of freezing dread ladder your spine, your mouth falling open, stunned that he would be so brutish and immature that punching II rather than speaking was in any way a viable option.
It all seems to swirl in chaos, then, the three other vampires suddenly present behind you, your mother shouting, but perhaps the most worrying, the noise that comes from II as his eyes bleed red, fangs popping in instant reaction.
Oh god, no. The low, deadly rattle. It’s never, ever the noise you want to evoke in a vampire, that completely inhuman growl that’s usually the precursor to somebody sorely regretting evoking it.
The ancient power within him, that radiating menace that never left his being, one which men far and wide once feared stirring in the Viking king simmers just beneath the surface, directed now solely at your father as you feel his body virtually vibrate with rage.
Oh god, oh god!
“I cannot believe you!” you mum shouts, using her Michael Kors clutch as a weapon and smacking him twice in the chest with it. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, slugging him like that? Are you insane?!”
Pushing your hand into II’s chest, you lean to his ear. “Please, please don’t hurt him,” you beg, feeling his chest stiffened like rock. “I know he shouldn’t have done that, and I’m fucking livid that he did, but please. Please don’t.”
Eventually, while your mother continues to berate him, you feel your vampire relax a smidgen, although as his eyes return to blue and his fangs recede, he still looks far from impressed. Your pinched insides slacken, knowing that truly, you would have had zero chance in holding onto him, should he have decided to retaliate.
“He has his hands on her!” your dad rages, pointing at II with a deep-set frown.
“Dad, he had his arm around me! For heaven’s sake!”
II snorts, eyes flitting over him, his jaw set. “Trust me, that was nothing comparatively.”
Fuck. What your dad does not need right now is to be baited, and of course, he jumps at it, surging forward. The tension in the air intensifies as he reacts exactly as feared, unable to resist the provocation. His temper, already frayed by the earlier confrontation, snaps further as he lunges ahead, making the situation even more precarious. Your heart pounds as you watch him act impulsively, his actions driven by a combination of pride and anger, escalating the conflict when calm was desperately needed.
“You fucking...” he begins, II moving forward briskly. You hang onto him for dear life, nails gripping like fishhooks against his chest.
“Me, what, human?” he snarls, that eerie growl gravelling his voice. “You can punch me once, I will let you have that, but you come to my fucking home, our fucking home, and you bring challenge? To me, of all vampires? Fucking imbecile! Have some dignity, behaving like this in front of your wife and daughter, what the fuck?”
Your mum heaves her hands against your dad’s chest with all her might, your own moving to rest upon II’s shoulders, squeezing the taut muscles.
“Please, Gary,” she presses, moving in front of him, “you have to bloody calm down and apologise! I’m beyond mortified!”
While your dad’s anger seems to be slightly dissipating, you can see why, turning back to see three sets of red eyes all fixed upon him. Oh, no. They don’t take kindly to one of their own being treated like that, even though II is more than capable of handling himself. Inside, though, you feel like you’d be elated if the ground opened up beneath your feet, giving you some much needed sanctuary.
“You haven’t gone about this well, Gary,” Ves begins smoothly, stepping forward. “If it were anyone else, the consequences of such would not be favourable, but you are Grace’s father. We will show you leniency for that, despite your obvious feelings towards us. Now, if you can promise no further violence, I would like to invite you in. Tanya, I am told you enjoy Stolichnaya. We have a plentiful supply; you’ll be pleased to hear.”
Your mum looks as if she could knock back the entire bottle. “You’re Ves, I take it?” His nod confirms. “Yes, I bloody could. I’m so, so sorry.” She then turns to her husband; her eyes fixed in a glower. “Do you need to go for a walk, or will you actually behave yourself?”
It’s probably best all round that your dad mutters the former, turning away, II reaching to lift her case and lean to greet her with a kiss on her cheek. Wow. You’re impressed at his grace there, his lack of chill in greeting her, but then again, your mother did nothing wrong at all.
“It’s nice to meet you, at least,” he speaks, “I’ll take this upstairs. Your room is around the first corner, go right, fourth door along.”
She presses a hand to his shoulder, her eyes sad, shame snaking its way through her insides. “You too, II. Thank you.”
Moving into the house, introductions are offered, your mother continually apologising.
“Hey, not your fault at all, Tanya!” III assures her, beaming his usual big grin. “But if your husband is gonna be an oaf, he can sleep in the pissing car!”
Deserved, but you still wince a little, moving to pour your mum a massive vodka and tonic she likely needs sorely. You place the glass in her hand as II arrives back with you, your mum turning to him, looking at him questioningly.
“I would have thought your eye would have gone red by now,” she speaks, showing her naivety regarding all things vampire.
“Nope,” he speaks, sitting down at the table, “we heal instantly from trauma and wounds.”
Sipping her drink, she seats herself opposite him. “I bet you wish you had that when you were human, don’t you?”
He snorts softly. “Would have been quite handy, yes.”
Her hand trembles slightly, ice jangling in the glass she grips, hiding her face with her other hand. “I know you told me not to be sorry, but bloody hell! I really am mortified by him,” she begins, her sigh deep and heavy. This was not how she anticipated the first meet with her daughter’s four boyfriends to go, although something tells her that perhaps it should have been expected.
“Grace has probably already said that I’m usually the one who gets worked up, and Gary the calmer of us. Since we were told about this, though, he’s been, well... winding himself up over it is about the only way I can describe it. In light of that, I’ve appropriated myself as the calm one, the one who wants to at least try and understand this very unique setup my daughter has entered with the four of you.”
“We see that,” Ves begins, the other three nodding, “and we appreciate you for it as we do understand that it’s a lot for someone to take in, the presence of not one, but four vampires romantically linked with your daughter.”
She looks a little bewildered, sipping her drink again. “I have so many questions!”
“Feel free to ask them,” II assures her, and you silently thank him with a squeeze to his thigh beneath the table for keeping his composure and being so polite with her. God, he could have completely allowed for his anger to spin itself off its axis, with him being very much the kind of vampire not to hold back when riled. You know with surety that it was only because of you that he didn’t.
“How does it work, with all four of you being with Grace at once? Is there no jealousy? I worry for you, babe, being in an environment that could become toxic, with... and I am sorry, but I can’t word it any other way, with being what you all are. Vampires. You are, as we have discovered since you outed yourselves, the most dangerous apex predators on earth.”
Her hand continues to shake, III leaning to gently grasp it when she sets her drink down. She looks unsure, perhaps a touch fearful but allows his attempt at reassurance. “We’re kinda above jealousy, really. We understand what it is, that the bond ties Grace with us equally, although we all – apart from IV – fell in love with her before it truly began.”
“Why apart from you?” she then asks, looking to IV. “I take it you’re IV, yes?”
There’s a moment of pause, the lesser friendly of the four not letting his eyes meet hers for a few moments, and once again, you feel your heart in your throat.
“I am,” he eventually speaks, folding his arms tightly, his chin touching his chest. “I have issues, though. None of them caused by your wonderful daughter, who’s helping me work through them.”
She makes an accepting face, nodding, while you clear your throat.
“It really is that simple, mum,” you then offer, turning to her. “I devote equal time to my relationships with them all, separately and together.”
Your mum’s eyes bulge immediately. “What, you don’t mean...” she trails off, her finger pointing around rapidly between you all. That rouses a few barked laughs from your vampires, while you feel yourself blush and wish you’d worn your hair down, so you could hide yourself in it.
“No, bloody hell, no!” III booms, squeezing her hand tighter in reassurance. “I might be a fucking deviant, but I have no desire to partake in group sex with my family. That’d be... yeah.” He pauses then, eyes flitting to his older sibling. “I mean, II and I have banged women together before, but...”
Immediately, II pinches the bridge of his nose, Ves closes his eyes slowly while looking pained, and a snorting IV digs him in the ribs with his elbow.
“Her mother don’t need to know that, mate.”
“I’m just being honest!” III cries with indignation.
II chimes in with similar words to IV. “The woman does not need such finer details revealed to her, regardless of them not including her daughter.” Pausing, he shakes his head, folding his arms and trying hard not to smile. He doesn’t quite manage it. “We can always trust you and your gigantic yap, can’t we?” He then shares a slightly exasperated look with Ves, who’s eyes move to your mum.
“I apologise for him, Tanya.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I’m not so old at fifty-four that I don’t understand these things happen. I’d just rather not think of them happening with my daughter.” Her stance is all too understandable, really, although you have to say, III’s statement piqued your interest, and you make a little mental note while she continues.
“I think that’s where my husband’s mind might be going, and driving him up the wall, thinking, well, you know. Preconceived notions of his daughter tied up in debauchery. Of the group sex kind.”
At her specific statement about being tied up, III gives you a little fleeting side eye, and it’s all you can do not to snort laughing.
“Trust us, that isn’t the case at all. I need not embellish further on anything of that nature. As Grace’s mother, there are things that you do not require to be detailed,” Ves interjects with, chuckling when your mum shakes her head rapidly.
“Oh no, no. Even though Grace and I have always had open discussions about sex, details can be spared! As I said, though, I think that’s what’s rattling around in Gary’s skull. To be honest, it was mine as well, wondering how other people would see Grace, what they’d think of her, being in a relationship with four people. The small-minded connotations,” she speaks candidly.
“Other people can piss off,” III scoffs, “we’re happy and so is she. Teddy couldn’t really grasp how effortless it all is until he sat and witnessed it with his own eyes, but now he’s fine with it. As we’re all hoping you will be, too.” He pauses then. “I think your husband might be a different story, though, if all he’s fixating on is that Grace has four fellas she’s sleeping with. Yeah, we might be highly sexual beings, but fuck, we have more to us than just shagging!”
“He’s right, mum,” you offer, smiling. “II and I have a deep love of reading and history, so we go out to museums and the like. III is currently teaching me how to carve marble, IV used to be a chef so he’s showing me how to cook properly to his standards, and Ves and I really enjoy art and music. What I have with them is just like any other relationship, except for the obvious that goes hand in hand with being a vampire.”
Much to your relief, she looks more accepting over this with every passing statement given to her by your vampires, continuing with her questioning. “I did read a little into vampires before I came, but I got a bit lost in it all, not knowing what was true or false. I did read, though, that you’re all infertile. How will that work, going forward? You always wanted kids, babe.”
“Well, that’s been a sticky point for me, too, in coming to my decision,” you confess, feeling II slide an arm around your shoulders. “It’s something II and I have tentatively discussed, adoption or donor sperm, all that. He told me he’d like to be a father again, the others not so much. It’s a future thought, though. I’m still young enough not to have to immediately worry about it.”
Your mum looks past you, catching his eye. “You had children, didn’t you? When we spoke on FaceTime, something you mentioned about a daughter alluded to it.”
“Mm, five of them,” he confirms, “and while I didn’t ever think I would want to enter fatherhood again, meeting your daughter has changed that for me. Like Grace states, though, it is a future thought.”
“I had two, too, when I was human,” III chips in with, your mum looking curious at such. “I wouldn’t want to be a father again, though, but I’d happily play uncle III to whatever little ones these two decided to have.”
“Well,” she breathes, straightening a little, “this all seems to be much, much easier to take on board than I was envisioning. It makes me wonder what the hell the catch is, though.”
“There isn’t always another shoe waiting to drop,” Ves advises sagely, rising to prepare himself a cup of tea. “None here exists for Grace. Although she does make routine complaints over how much we spoil her, and there’s the odd crossed word here and there, but all of that is normal, isn’t it?”
“Mmhmm, I suppose so, yes. And that’s pretty much Grace, even though she was an only child, she was never spoiled rotten, so doesn’t expect the princess treatment,” you mum comments. “Anyway, what I would really like is to learn more about the four of you, if you wouldn’t mind? II, I only know a tiny bit about you, being that you’re Viking, something my flippin’ sister hasn’t shut up about!”
He smiles, nodding. “I am Viking, yes. A farmer, turned Jarl, turned eventual warlord and then finally, the king of Jutland.”
Again, your mum’s eyes widen. “Blimey!”
He looks proud, mouth tilting. “I was good at what I did. Mostly battle, but of course I had to also be a shrewd negotiator as well.”
“And you didn’t retaliate against my husband for popping you one in the eye,” she marvels, shaking her head. “Which wouldn’t have been anything less than he deserved, to be frank, but still. For someone of your former standing, that must have took you a lot of restraint.”
His eyes move to you, hand clenching on your shoulder. “My respect for her prevented it. Plus, your daughter is the epitome of a fiery redhead when she’s angry, as you no doubt understand. Restraint versus her vexation and your husband not enduring a shattered face was the natural winner.”
“Thank you, love,” you coo, and he kisses your forehead with a hum of laughter.
“You’re welcome.”
“Ves, what about you?” she then asks, thanking him when he attentively tops up her drink for her.
“For me, it’s null as I was never human.” Her confused expression is naturally followed up by further embellishment. “I am what is known as an alpha vampire. What we are is all we have ever been, the first of our kind who populated the earth. All vampires come directly from us, so this is all I’ve ever known.”
“Oh,” she breathes softly, her hand reaching for his forearm. “You’ve never seen the sunshine? That’s so sad.”
“I can now, through the invention of the glass panes within our windows,” he speaks, pointing behind himself, you mum turning to look. “You won’t see it now for the darkness but come the morning, you’ll notice it’s tinted a bluish colour. Shadow glass, as it’s known, allows illumination without the sunlight rays actually penetrating, meaning that if we choose to be awake in the daylight hours, we don’t burn up.”
“That’s absolutely fascinating,” she replies, marvelling at such information. “So, you can be awake in the daylight, if you choose to?”
“Yes,” he speaks, “we can force our waking by overfeeding. It’s the vampire equivalent of mainlining coffee. It’ll keep us awake until we allow ourselves to be pulled back into a rested state.”
The flow of the conversations runs with natural ease, her asking the others about their lives, too. As predicted, IV is brief, still sitting there physically closed in around himself, obviously uncomfortable but to his credit, making an effort to be polite. It’s while III is regaling your mum with stories from the operating table – and probably mildly horrifying her – that you receive a text.
“Can you come outside? Think we need a chat.”
“Dad’s back,” you speak, rising from your seat. “He asked me to talk to him.”
II reaches for you, hand pressing into your lower back. “Want me to come with?”
Hmm, probably not the best of ideas, although you appreciate his protectiveness. Shaking your head, you lean to kiss his cheek. “I think it’s best just I go.”
He nods, but he and the rest of your vampires definitely sit a little differently as you leave the kitchen, all bracing themselves on alert. Walking through the house, you wring your hands and fiddle with your ponytail, finally arriving at the front door and suddenly scoffing at yourself. You have nothing to feel nervous about. It’s your dad who is on the back foot here after behaving so disgracefully.
With that in mind, you open the front door calmly, your composure well rooted. Meeting your dad’s eyes, you still see some lingering defiance there, but the way his hands are shoved in his pockets as he rocks back and forth on his heels allude to a little regret over his actions, at least.
“I’m sorry.”
Folding your arms, you lean against the doorframe. “I appreciate that. You need to extend the same to II as well, though. And the others.”
He huffs, turning a circle, his breath clouding the cold, night air. “I know. I don’t want to, but I know I have to.”
“What?” you scoff, brows furrowing. “You don’t want to apologise to my boyfriend after you slugged him in the eye? Dad, that’s unacceptable, same as what you did in the first place!”
He scowls at your words, rubbing his jaw, heels further to be dug in, it seems. “I just can’t get my head around it, I can’t!” he exclaims. “They’re... fucking monsters, Grace, little more than animals wearing a human skin! I just can’t... the thought of you... with them... it’s turning my stomach!”
Taking a deep breath, you dig to your very bones for composure. “Then stop thinking about it! Dad, I’m a grown woman, with a sex life, of which I enjoy with them individually. It isn’t like I’m their sexual offering in some, some...” you trail off, feeling your temper rising up a smidgen, “...bloody vampiric gang bang situation, if that’s what you’re thinking! What I do with them behind a closed bedroom door is nobody else’s business, least of all yours.”
Looking visibly uncomfortable, he remains quiet and in the absence of his words, you continue with more of your own. “Vampires are different to us, but honestly, not so much that they’re - to use your words – little more than animals. That isn’t the case. It’s really insulting that you think of them like that.
“They were once human, all apart from Ves, which if you stopped sulking and pouting at the mercy of your temper, you could find out for yourself. Because he’d sit there and tell you about it, and then you’d learn something rather than steaming in, pissed off because of the preconceived notions you’ve been bloody winding yourself up with!”
You sigh, willing your dad to see beyond his prejudice, and soften just a fraction. “Give them a chance, Dad. If you talked to them properly, you’d see what I see every day; people who care deeply about me, not monsters. It’s not about changing your beliefs overnight, but about recognising you might be wrong. I know it’s a lot to take in, and I understand it’s difficult, but I’m asking you to keep an open mind and just try.”
He nods, lifting his head with a sigh, finally looking a little more accepting. “Okay, alright, ginge. Can you, erm, can you ask him to come out, II? And do I have to call him that? Feels weird.”
In a blink, the very vampire is at your side. “You can fucking call me Jack Nicolson if it means you’ll behave yourself and not descend into violence and shouting.”
“I’m sorry I punched you,” your dad begins, looking a little sheepish and maybe just a touch defiant, still. His ill ease isn’t likely to dissipate instantly, though, you reason. “I realise I shouldn’t have done it.”
The tension between them still simmers, but you receive a huge surprise in II offering his hand forth, eyebrows rising. “Truce. For her. And because you might just like me, if you want to bother getting to know me.”
Your insides finally unclench when your dad reaches to shake the hand offered, giving II a nod. “Alright, Jack. Fair enough.”
He finally smiles, II humming with a small chuckle, gesturing into the house.
Stepping in, your dad looks around, eyes widening. “Bloody hell. The last time I was in here, all this bit here didn’t even have a ceiling,” he speaks pointing upwards. “You could see right through the gaping hole in the roof to the sky, and there were little trees growing there by the staircase!”
Indeed, the ruins of Norton House were a playground for a couple of the generations of children who grew up in the village. “I can show you and your lovely wife around, if you like?”
“Yeah, yeah that’d be great.”
Thinking it’s safe to leave them alone for a few moments, you go and retrieve your mum, their guided tour starting around the bottom floor of the house firstly. They both marvel at every room, floored by the details of how contemporary meets originality, everything furnished so beautifully.
Throughout the duration of the tour, you can’t help but notice a lingering sense of frostiness emanating from II. Although he makes an effort to be civil, the tension is still evident, especially when he interacts with your dad. However, there is a subtle but noticeable shift in his demeanour when he converses with your mum; the chill seems to thaw, his tone softening as he engages with her.
When you all eventually return downstairs and re-join the rest of the group, it becomes clear that the earlier incident with your dad has left its mark. The others are not especially forthcoming in their welcoming of him. Ves is the most verbal as you go and fetch him a beer, your dad seating himself at your mum’s side, while two other sets of blue eyes focus upon him with sharp scrutiny.
“Listen,” he begins, placing his beer between his knees and holding his hands wide. “I have humble pie to eat, here, I know I do. That stare from you two especially signals it loud and clear.” He points between III and IV, the former draped over the arm of the chair the latter is sitting in. “It’s very unnerving, the way you’re both looking at me.”
“Deserved, some might say,” III drawls smoothly, his face not moving a flicker. “Can’t blame us for being on our guard around someone who favours his fists, innit?”
He nods at that statement. “I know, I understand that. Trust me when I tell you it isn’t what I usually lead with, though.” He looks back at the bottle he takes into his grasp once more, the silence pressing in on him. It’s abundantly clear that he’s the one who has to make the effort in engagement, not the other way around.
“So, who drives that gorgeous G Wagon out front?”
“I do, it’s mine,” you reply, smiling as your dad’s mouth widens in surprise.
“Blimey, ginge! What kind of pay rise have you bloody had, to be driving that kind of car?” he inquires, sipping his beer.
The subject of your job immediately sets you on edge, II resting a hand to your knee when he feels you stiffen. “None, Ves bought it for me for Christmas.”
He looks to the elder vampire at your side, his face a picture of surprise. “Nice choice. I’ve always preferred German engineering over most others.” He then looks to you again. “So, how is work going, love?”
Gulp. Just breathe, you might have to lie about your termination, but truly, honesty is not the best policy here. Not given the current circumstances. “That’s something I wanted to wait and tell you and mum in person. I’ve left L&B as of this week. I’ve decided to start my own business, still doing the same thing but running a lot of the events from here at home to begin with. As the company grows – hopefully – then I can begin to think about branching out and hiring people, running things on a larger scale.”
“And how on earth are you going to put together the kind of money that’ll take, eh?” your dad exclaims, mouth dropping open a touch.
Ves clears his throat, an eyebrow arching elegantly. “We are not exactly short of that, Gary. Trust me, Grace is poised and ready to start out on her own, with our financial help to back her new venture.”
They appear surprised at the news, your mum more pleasantly so, your dad the reserved of the two. Much later that night, once they’ve gone to bed, he reveals those concerns that he initially kept quiet, too.
“It feels like they’re segregating her from her life,” he speaks, pulling on his pyjamas, your mum lifting the duvet to climb into bed. “That ringleader one suggesting it and boom! Off she trots to give up her job and do as he tells her!”
Tanya frowns, her take on it completely different. “He has a name. Ves,” she begins, her husband scoffing as he climbs in beside her. “And referring to him as a ringleader is a little dramatic, as is the rest of your assessment. He made the suggestion that she could do well starting her own company and offered the use of their home as well as capitol for her to get started. Because it’s obvious he believes in her. Honestly, Gary, the more time I spend with them, the less I’ve been worried. They all clearly love Grace very much.”
Stretching, he folds his arms beneath his head. “I don’t know, Tan. Something just doesn’t sit right with me. The way those younger two sat there, staring me down all evening. Jesus! I apologised, and they still went out of their way to make me feel uncomfortable!”
“And yet II was the one you punched, and he tried at least to be polite,” she points out, continuing. “The younger ones were perfectly pleasant to me, III especially. IV is a bit more reserved, but as I understand he isn’t very people friendly. No idea why, and it’s none of my business.”
“It is our business,” he mutters, “she’s our only bloody daughter!”
“And a grown woman,” she reminds him sternly, “one who is capable of making decisions for herself, and this is what she’s chosen. Whether you like it or not, this is her choice.”
He shakes his head, brows starting to crease. “I don’t know. I just... I can’t get my head around it. Maybe if she was with one of them, but all four? And now this with her job? I feel like she’s being pulled into their world so strongly from all angles, she’ll forget who she is outside of it.”
“I think you’re talking rubbish, now,” she speaks, pointing downwards. “And they can hear every word you’re saying, too.”
He looks disbelieving. “Even from up here? We’re not exactly being loud.”
Truly, he’s done nothing to educate himself on vampires, and lord, how it shows. “We could be having this conversation out on Dark Lane and they’d still hear you.” She pauses a beat, turning onto her side. “While you were out walking, I learned a little about each of them, and Gary, they’re decent people. Yes, there’s reservations I had initially, but being in their company and forcing myself into enough open mindedness to hear them out, I feel reassured over Grace’s safety and happiness. If anything, she really couldn’t be bloody safer, with four immortal boyfriends acting bodyguard over her!”
“And you don’t think they’re the ones she needs protecting from, no?”
An exasperated sigh huffs from her lips. “No! Why would she? She’s up here of her own choice, they spend their time encouraging her, spoiling her to death, too! I mean come on, buying her a car that costs over two hundred and fifty grand? Doesn’t sound like she’s in any danger to me!”
Your dad continues in his protesting, all the while in the kitchen, two sets of ears tune in on it.
“I like your mum,” III begins, “she’s up there fighting our corner. Apparently, I was perfectly pleasant to her!”
“Your gold star is in the post,” II teases him with, leaning back when his younger sibling makes a swatting motion towards his face. He then reaches for your shoulder, thumb skimming over your clavicle. “Your dad is suspicious of us. States he thinks we’re segregating you from your life.”
Your eye roll could detach a retina. “He’s being such a twat about all of this!”
II gives you a tap, gesturing with a wiggle of his fingers for you to stand, seating himself and then pulling you down onto his lap. “He’s coming from a place of caring about his daughter, this I can say as I recognise it from my time being a father,” he begins.
“Me, too,” III chimes in with quickly, reaching to pull your legs up onto his lap, fingers idly beginning to trail the soles of your feet.
“However,” II continues, “he isn’t listening to reason whatsoever. He has a clearly formed bias against us he’s not willing to shake or listen to reason over.” Pausing, he continues to listen, a few seconds passing before he begins to growl low. “And still thinks us to be more animal than anything bordering on civilised in our nature.”
“Is he still banging on about my sex life with you all?” you ask, realising your verbal gaffe when II begins to chuckle lowly.
“Interesting choice of word, there.” Listening some more, he shakes his head. “Not for the moment, no. He has made mention of what isn’t any of his business, though.” He then begins to positively beam, more chuckling rumbling his throat. “I feel like giving him a huge middle fucking finger for his actions, from punching me to everything else he’s said, whether directly or not.”
His eyes move to III, who also begins to grin. “Innit? We should, you know. We should take his lovely daughter off to bed and spend hours defiling her, right under his fucking nose.”
“Yeah, about that,” you begin, laughter catching the edges of your voice, and you’re unsure whether it’s nervousness or excitement as four hands begin to roam. “Neither of you told me you had a penchant for sharing in that way.”
“Not every woman can handle two vampires at once,” II speaks, head dipping to kiss your neck, the lips of III pressing against your ankle sending a little flare through your blood as his hands slowly glide up your legs.
You smile, nails trailing over his scalp. “I’m not most women.”
III laughs against the kiss he presses against your knee. “Oh, we know that, sweetheart.”
“So, it’s just something you two have done, then,” you question, beginning to like where the moment is steadily headed. “Or have you included Ves and IV, too?”
“Just us,” II confirms. “Ves doesn’t like to share what’s his when he’s right there witnessing it, and IV has a tough time being around any erect cock other than his own. Because of, well, you know. The trauma of that fucking priest.” He pauses again, then, looking down upon you where he’s let you lean back against his arm, fingers trawling your jaw, hunger burning blue in his stare. “I’m not like III, though. I don’t swing both ways, so every single drop of our focus will be upon you.”
His mouth lands upon yours, his kiss filthily indulgent, III’s hand wandering right up beneath your dress to tease your inner thigh, lips pressing hot along your shin. Oh, your brain is short circuiting already at the feel of them teasing you. Not enough that you still don’t have questions, though.
“And are you doing this just so you can be smug in the knowledge you both did exactly what my dad is getting wound up about, while he was under the same roof, no less, or to simply give me a threesome experience since I’ve never had one before?”
III smirks, your dress gathered up in ruche at your thighs he’s so attentively stroking. “Bit of column A, bit of column B?” The mischief of it dances in his eyes, looking up at you questioningly. “We’re still waiting for you to agree though, Gracie.”
“Mm,” II hums, mouth trailing into your cleavage. “You know we’re all about the consent.”
You giggle softly, wrapping your arms around him. “Then you have my consent to take me to bed.”
In a blink, you’re in the lush confines of your bedroom, the air already warm for the fire gently flickering in the hearth for most of the night, the door shutting with a soft clunk before two newly naked vampires move to flank you, pushing you back upon the bed after removing your clothes deftly. You’re clueless as to know who to reach for first, but that decision is taken from you, III gently clasping your jaw as he kisses you with soft heat, mouth descending quickly.
His fangs scratch at your neck before receding, shifting so he’s above you, tongue running beneath the curve of your breast and around your navel. Your chest heaves, the brilliance of their touches sending flashes over your nerves, II kissing you sensually, his groans all smoke and grit. You mewl against his tongue at feeling the cool wet of III’s lips close around your clit, sucking on you softly, his fingers stroking paths of reverence over your thighs.
One alone is enough of a lover to have you breathless, but this, the sexual benediction of two, is almost intolerable. While III licks you to mindlessness, the tip of his tongue running slow and firm from your opening right to the crest of your sex, II has his attentions firmly attuned to your breasts and neck. His mouth lays heated kisses, hands touring every rise and curve of you, eyes opening every so often to watch you falling apart beneath that heated, mutual touch.
Every kiss is a silent prayer of worship upon you, the altar of their desire, III shifting as II’s kisses descend. His fingers find you first, toying with the soft, hot wet of your folds, III sucking on your fingers as his own patter down your arm, pressed kisses following until his mouth is on yours, his long form stretching out at your side.
A little jostling takes place then, III moving to stand at the side of the bed while you kneel at the very edge, II beneath you, scattering kisses up your inner thigh as your tongue entwines with III’s, your kisses all smouldering desire. Your hands glide up and down his chest, over his hips, feeling him shudder, his big cock bobbing against your stomach, begging for the caress of your hand.
Pushing him back a little, you fold neatly at the waist, a harder suck from II’s beautiful mouth around your folds stealing a gasp from you as you take III’s cock and bring it to your lips, teasing him with the tip of your tongue.
He emits a shuddered breath, hips jutting forward a little as your swallow him back, his hands losing themselves in your soft tresses, moaning around him when you feel your nipples being pinched by II, the firm slicks of his tongue over your clit evoking a soft moan. God, that vampire. He’s too good with his mouth, working you quickly into the kind of froth that begs for his cock, hands gliding over your skin as he sucks on you with greed.
You tilt forward a little, III supporting you by cupping your breasts and allowing you to lean into his hands as you continue to suck his rigid length, grumbling a little deliriously as II’s tongue begins to force moans of greater magnitude from your throat.
Your soft cries fill the air, adding to the deep, barbarous groans of your vampires, like bells tinkling over the beat of muffled drums. Releasing III’s cock from your mouth, you exclaim louder as you feel II envelop your bud and suck hungrily, shaking against his face as your hand pumps at the long shaft in your grasp, your tongue flicking against III’s hip crease.
Every precise lick of his keen tongue against your clit has you gasping and crying out, III’s gravelly groan galvanising you to returning his swollen cock to your mouth, moaning around him ceaselessly as the Viking beneath you has you in utter rapture.
Heat begins to prickle your abdomen, the fire almost ready to shoot up your spine as your bud is caressed at incredible speed, spurring your mouth on as you swallow the large cock occupying it over and over, until with a guttural groan he spills onto your tongue, his release sliding down your throat as you swallow it back.
The pleasure gathers, thick and heavy until the sudden suction of II’s lips on your clit invokes the crackles, the precursor to sparks shooting through you, white-hot and throbbing as you crest against his mouth, gripping III’s shoulders, nails grazing down his chest, moaning unrelentingly.
“Switch places,” II speaks, moving rapidly, lying back against the stack of pillows on your bed. “Yeah, I’m not standing up.”
“That’s only because Grace gives such good head, your knees’ll probably buckle,” III speaks, “and you’re vertically challenged enough as it is.”
He received a middle finger coupled with a snarl, III laughing as he moves to settle on his back beneath you. His mouth connects with your cunt, forcing a breath from your throat as your tongue glides up the line of dark blonde hair running the centre of II’s abs, your hand grasping his cock and giving it a squeeze.
He moans, a contented murmur as his long lashes shutter out the red fire of his eyes, arm muscles flexing as he folds his them above his head, eyes slowly opening again to watch as you make his hardness disappear in your mouth.
You sheath him in wet warmth while the same delights your pink folds, III’s tongue running from your opening to your clit, circling, nudging at you, dragging back and forth in a way that makes you glimmer strongly.
Your insides throb with want, the desire to feel one of them inside you escalating as your hands explore every rise and curve of the deliciously hard body before you while yours is grasped by the vampire beneath you, his big hands stroking the back of your thighs in a repetitive, sensual glide.
You then find yourself bereft of the vampire before you, II moving to kneel at your side before slowly licking a line down your spine, his hands gripping your bum cheeks before spreading the rounded orbs, his tongue finishing it’s long, sensuous lick at your puckered star. The moan such prompts from you is unlike anything you’ve ever heard come from your mouth.
“Think she liked that,” II comments, amused at your reaction.
“I think it’s fair to say she did, innit,” III speaks, chuckling deep as he wraps your bud in a hard suck, moaning around you as his tongue rubs and slicks over your little bundle of nerves.
“Mm,” II hums, “better check, though. Would you like me to do it again, love?”
All you’re capable of is a barely coherent moan as you pant and grip fistfuls of duvet.
“I think that was a yes,” III comments, the vampires sharing laughter.
“I think so, too. Mmmm, dirty girl.” II confirms, his hand smacking your cheeks in turn before his tongue glides between them again to continue. There is no tease to their fervent exploration in this, the first time you have ever encountered two mouths between your legs at once. Already, the sensations border on intolerable.
The sweeping flush of pleasure conjured by two talented tongues invokes judders throughout your muscles, blanketed in goose pimpled flesh stroked by four expert hands. The tongue at your clit rolls around, alternating between slow, featherlight licks and firmer quickening, the one at your anus beating strongly from side to side, sensations skittering up your spine as you mewl helplessly.
Their mouths evoke the most ardent of divinity, swells of heat prickling your groin, the air peppered with heavy groans of lust, III’s hands running under you to grasp your breasts, your nipples being pinched until they harden, pebbled and pink against his thorough touch.
They lick at you relentlessly, coaxing cusses from you as you repeatedly grit the word fuck over and over, your nails clawing at the covers as you’re pushed to your crest, the intrusion of III’s fingers into your molten heat the catalyst to your undoing, the flat licks of his tongue against your soaked folds searing your orgasm.
Tingles pulse through you, chased by two tongues and two fingers pounding your centre, leaving you utterly breathless, but craving more. “Please! Will one of you just fuck me!” You plead, making them chuckle richly. III takes the initiative first, moving from beneath you to spear your cunt, the intrusion of his hardness splitting you wide.
“Bring that gorgeous cock back up here.” You then instruct II, stroking his powerful arm and having him move back in front of you with no hesitation, enveloping his stiff shaft in the heat of your mouth as your walls are dragged by velvet encased iron, making you see sparks.
You’re arrowed again, III opening you with his thick, long cock, your moans plentiful as you’re filled at both ends, the slow withdrawal of the hardness only to be returned within your slick velvet in a forceful thrust, before once again, dragging back slowly.
The rhythm he then sets is slow, rolling and deep, every thick inch of his girth spreading you, your glistening wetness coating him as his fingers leave crescents at your hips, digging in as he steers your body back against each thrust.
While he delights your cunt, your mouth continues to caress the thick erection before you, forcing low moans and heavy breaths from II’s throat, his hips rising off the bed slightly in response to your repeated enveloping of him, your lips dragging his vein ridged shaft, tongue swirling the sensitive head of his cock.
Your mutual moans are like music hanging in the air, your bed the scene of the greatest sexual experience you’ve ever participated in, three bodies moving against each other in the most amazing sexual sync.
Your skin glows with beads of sweat, the heat of the room escalating along with the pleasure, which throbs unrelentingly for all of you. III’s hands move to bracket your waist as he assails you frantically, heavy balls slapping against your body as he drives into you with ferocity, your cunt beginning to flutter around him.
II is the first to be propelled to white hot heights, his hardness twitching in your mouth, abs juddering, breaths shallow and fast as his chest heaves with effort, his cock beginning to spurt into your throat.
You swallow back every cold jet of cum, your hands flexing upon his chest as you delight in the groans forced from his throat, shaking and panting in the aftermath. You take much pride whenever you render him such a spent state. Being a vampire, though, his refresh rate is of course instant.
Your fingertips circle his nipples, tongue exploring the ridges of muscle decorating his hips as you let him cool down, your sweet moans floating through the air as your wetness is stroked with long, hard thrusts. While feasting your mouth on the beautiful, scar and tattoo littered body before you, you return your mouth to his cock, and he hisses a groan, eyes fluttering shut. You watch him, and god, he’s so fucking handsome it kills you, your savage warlord, reduced to a shuddering wreck as his cock nudges the back of your throat and rapidly, he falls apart for you again.
The light of orgasm begins to shine at the edges of III’s pleasure as he sinks into you rapaciously, deliciously inhuman growls filling the air, his hand fisting in your hair and yanking you up to bury his fangs into your neck. He comes hard as your blood soaks his thirsty tongue, arms tightening around you, sealing your wound before he flops back.
“Play with II for a bit while I lie here and try to pretend like that didn’t fucking wreck me!” he chuckles, flopping onto his back at the foot of the bed.
You turn to him, reaching to tickle his arm. “Bit cunt drunk?”
He makes a small space between his thumb and forefinger, his slightly bloodied grin widening. “Little bit, Gracie.”
Turning back to II, he sits up more, pulling you close, fangs grazing your breast before biting down. It hurts like hell, but oh, the sweet burn of it as you guide him to your streaming hole, sinking down onto his cock with a little whimper.
Each roll of your hips ensnares every last inch of him, his hands running up your spine, one fisting your hair and pulling your head back, making you arch elegantly so he can fulfil his desire to introduce his tongue to your breasts, swirling across each rounded orb, each flushed, erect nipple before blowing on them, the little peaks furling further.
You grasp his strong arms as your body establishes a perfect sync with his, II returning to his back as you’re aware of a presence behind you, his hands kneading the soft flesh over your hips as III pulls you back against him where he kneels.
His hands move to grasp your breasts, rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers as you turn your head to receive magmatic kisses, his tongue swirling with yours, short beard prickling your lips.
Ebullience crackles through your bones as II bounces you steadily on his cock, III’s mouth moving to sear your neck, his teeth scraping where your pulse flutters wildly, tongue tasting your flesh, your damp back gliding effortlessly against his chest.
He shifts back, the lean you’re forced to make causing II’s cock to press more intensely against your utmost nerve rich spots, forcing wails from your lungs as III leans over your shoulder to begin sucking your nipple, fangs prickling your hardened bud.
He then delights you further by sliding his hand down your sweaty body to begin stroking your clit, his middle finger massaging back and forth over the slick, swollen bundle, a shaky breath leaving his mouth as his cock juts against your spine, desperate to be back within you once more.
The logistics which facilitate this are assisted by him moving at speed, raiding your bedside drawer for a bottle of lube, back behind you in an instant to begin pushing two very slick fingers in and out of your arsehole, readying your body to take him.
You grip onto II’s biceps, wincing in pain as you feel his fingers replaced, the head of his cock stretching you around its heft, inching in with care. Whimpering, you feel III kiss your neck, cool breath fanning over your skin. “Just relax sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Fuck, you feel so good.”
The way he moans, guttural and consumed by you, it makes your heart hammer wildly as his tongue circles your shoulder, slipping in a little further, your body completely alight with glimmers skittering over every nerve. The pleasure of it is sharp-toothed, biting into the marrow of you, feeling them both inside you together as their hands roam your skin.
To say you feel like your brain is breaking, crumbling like an ancient tower would be an understatement, experiencing the sensation of them both inside of you at the same time. It’s a tempest of heat ever whirling, consuming you, driving itself into your marrow as your entire body hums with ecstasy.
“You’re going to drown my cock. Fuck, you’re wet.” II then groans, hands bracketing your face as he sits up. He presses a kiss to your mouth, fangs prickling your tongue before they move to sink into your neck.
God, its heaven dripping in sin.
He fucks up into you deeply as III retreats, his teeth sharp at the back of your neck, biting you with a deep grunt. It feels relentless in its burn, like fire igniting holy oil, scorching you in their worship, your blood trickling from their bites, fang marks littering you like sacred brandings.
You then turn your head to grant III the same, his slippery cock expertly arrowing harder into your narrow passage, reaching back to fist his hair as you moan around his tongue, II’s talented mouth tantalising your throat with scattered kisses.
They move in perfect tandem with each other, one sliding in as the other exits, both groaning wantonly, almost crippled by arousal. Mewls, sobs and groans are drawn from you, your entire body enlivened by them, your nerves alight and throbbing as their bodies slide in a sumptuous duel against yours. It’s acerbic yet not frenzied, your ecstasy mounting, the thunder rumbling as the storm gathers.
The air is thick with the energy between the three of you, both of them entering and retreating you a little more forcefully, their moans drifting through the room as you gasp and shake, sweat pouring from your skin as you’re clasped tighter between them.
You’re licked, sucked, kissed, clasped and bitten as they drive on, waiting for the heat to burn them to home, yearning building to strike point as you begin to clench around them, milking their cocks, hungry for them to tip you into utter nirvana.
Your moans, almost helpless, utterly breathless are stolen from your lips as III turns your head, his lips searing yours in a blisteringly hot kiss, II’s mouth at the column of your neck, all ravenous beyond measure as you race furiously, ascending towards the storm clouds, the heat crackling.
The lightning finally strikes as II’s body grinds against your clit, toppling you, your muscles spasming hard as your shatter for them, the swell of your release thudding through you, taking III with you and then finally after a few more furiously delivered thrusts within your spasming chasm, II too.
The aftermath slows, all three of you sunk down deep in the belly of bliss as you lie between them, your blood streaked, sweat-soaked body tired and thrumming with pleasure still as they stroke you, whispering their love.
And to think, how hard you tried to convince the people three bedroom’s over that what you had with them wasn’t all carnal sin. Truly, it isn’t, but when it is... wow.
While you lie there one hundred percent cock drunk and snoring softly, they exit to leave you to your slumber, closing the door with a soft clunk. It’s there that II cannot help but allow a moment of immaturity, aiming two aggressively waved middle fingers in the direction of the room your parents are sleeping in.
“Yeah, fucking come in here and punch me, and that’s what you get,” he chuckles darkly with a slight snarl, “us defiling the shit out of your daughter thirty feet away from you!”
III is hissing with laughter, fangs popped while gripping his sibling’s shoulder as he doubles over in quiet fits. “You’re never gonna like him, are you?”
“Nah,” II confirms with a nonchalant sniff. “I’ll make nice for wifey’s sake, but he’s earned himself a black mark against his name forever.”
III expected that, naturally. He composes himself, head cocking, his eyes softening. “You like calling her that, don’t you?”
“I’ll like it even more, when she actually is our wife by bond. And there isn’t a fucking thing he can do about that either,” he grins, pressing a hand to III’s forearm. “Shall we go and finish the Christmas blood? I feel like getting lit.”
“Might as well drink to a job well done!” III speaks, both of them laughing their way back down the stairs.
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It's here, darlings! The chapter you've all been ferally waiting for. Enjoy :)
Summary - In the tranquil village of Little Norton, your life can be described as comfortable, quiet and idyllic. One night, though, it takes a dark turn when you finally come face to face with the eerie presence you’ve sensed watching you from afar for months, encountering a mysterious vampire on your way home. His arrival in your life sets off a chain of events that lead to you becoming inextricably tied to him and his family, learning of the complex dynamics within it, as well as the greater purpose you represent to them.
A proposition and a promise are offered, yet to agree will see life as you know it changed forever. Are you ready for such a commitment, or will you leave them beneath the dark shadow that has followed the four undead men for centuries?
Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen
Words - 5,767
Warnings - Vampire fic, mentions of blood and gore, plus lots of smut. 18+ content, minors DNI!
Tag list - In the comments, please DM/comment to be added/removed.
The grass is soddened beneath your back, tumbled to the ground with him, hands grasping with desperate tugs at soaking clothes, your kisses reaching a scorch of wildfire. The hunger grows like a beast unfed, prowling, a force not to be negotiated with, only sated.
It moves at a pace of its own, with you merely the passenger to your own raging, threshing desire, his hand literally tearing the last barrier parting you away, Ves throwing the torn remains of your underwear to his side as he slots himself between your thighs. The throb within you pulses hot, thighs widening to accommodate his lean bulk, yearning, craving, needing him to...
“Ahhh!”
He kisses the cry from your lips, his hands clutching you tightly as he sinks into you with a solid thrust, the size of him near unbearable to take. While you keened for it, you truly weren't ready to receive something so big cutting into you with blunt force, but your body provides, your walls beginning to slick against his humongous cock.
This isn’t about foreplay, or savouring, there’s no room there beneath the brunt of the storm for gentle explorations of sexual discovery. Its desperation unleashed, the need to be joined overriding anything else as there, lashed upon mercilessly by the unrelenting weather, you’re finally together.
The water streams over your bodies, rocking together, locked tight in urgency, cleansed of the mess that’s blighted you. It’s a baptism by storm, purified from the complexities of everything tying you together. You move in a rhythm that feels natural, like your body was always meant to one day find his. Two pieces of the same puzzle cast apart by the wages of time, finally melding together there, in this moment, beneath the pelting rain.
He’s heavy inside of you, so full of him that nothing outside of the press of his large body to yours exists, every ridge of his cock making your trickle, aroused tingles glimmering through your core with a sharp ache you’re in no hurry to cease experiencing.
It’s like he is gravity itself pressing into you, sinking down to your bones, your mouths not breaking apart once as he fucks himself into you with long, hard strokes, remaking you around him with every sinful roll of his hips, sending a cock almost too big to comprehend so deep, you feel rearranged around it.
Your nails claw down his back, virtually sobbing into the swirl of his tongue with yours as he grinds himself against you, your clit pulsing beneath the weight of him driving in hard, sparks crackling hot as they ascend your spine. Your shivers from the freezing cold rain meet head on with the quivering of lust roaring to flame within, crying out, your thighs tightening against him as he delivers each thrust with the kind of rapid precision that has both your brain and your cunt melting.
The throbbing desire tightens, every nerve singing a symphony conducted by the ministrations of his body, making you feel as if you’re both burning in water and drowning in fire as his cock hammers it through every fibre of your being, an undoing that has you literally crying with the force it charges though your body with.
Groans pour from him as he comes seconds after you, filling you with thick ropes of cum, his body soon beginning to slow. Finally, he lies still inside of you, not ceasing your kisses for a moment, a flash through the sky illuminating your pale bodies there entwined upon the ground, a rumble of thunder following.
Winter storms are a rarity. As is what you feel, lying vanquished beneath him, breathless and shaking from the overwhelming potency of your orgasm.
And probably, because you’re also freezing to death.
“Want me to take you somewhere warm, darling?”
You nod, being helped to your feet. “That warm place better be your gigantic bathtub.”
He laughs softly, leaning to kiss you. “I can make that happen.”
Firstly, you both dress again in your soaking clothes after giving them a bit of a wring out sheltered beneath the cover of your back porch, Ves lifting you into his arms and having you within the luxurious confines of his bathroom in seconds. His wet clothes are abandoned, plugging the tub and turning the tap while you strip off, wincing.
“I’ve hurt you, haven’t I?” he laments, reaching for your cheek. “I’m sorry. I confess to being caught headlong in such a moment.”
“I’m a little sore, yeah,” you agree, and he instantly drops fang, opening his finger before gently placing it inside you, letting it bleed into where you tender flesh stings. Immediately, you feel lightheaded, the force of ancient blood seeping into your skin so heady, your entire body hums as if it’s beginning to float. You feel weightless, boneless, like the fibres of your being have been kissed by the moon and stars themselves.
And you thought II’s blood made you feel high when you drank it. If you drank Ves’s, you doubt you’ve ever come back down if this is how it feels on mere contact alone. His arms slip around you, and he holds you against his thick chest while you still feel as if you’re swimming through the stars, eventually lifting you up.
“Yes, my blood is a little powerful, isn’t it?”
“A little?” you exclaim, and he laughs that deep, throaty, sexy chuckle as you lean to kiss him, legs locked tight around his waist. “When will I stop feeling like I’m floating?”
He nuzzles you, and your heart soars, a feeling that has nothing to do with the power of his blood sending bliss through your veins. “I’ll still make you feel that even when it abates.”
Once the bath is almost full, he places you down and climbs in before you take your place between his legs, settling against his chest. His arms slip around your waist with the ease and familiarity of someone who’s long since learned the contours of your body, although such a sweet discovery is yet to be fully undertaken.
The hushed quiet of the room, broken only by the gentle lapping of water and the soft cadence of your breathing, cocoons you both in a rare peace. His mouth finds the curve of your neck, tracing idle, lingering kisses that promise more, but for now, contentment settles over you like the steam, thick and comforting.
You lean back, letting your head rest against his shoulder, fingers entwining with his beneath the surface, and for a moment, it feels as though the world outside, the rain, the cold, the questions and worries have all been washed away, leaving only this quiet intimacy, rich and intoxicating.
You’d be dealing in untruths if you stated you hadn’t yearned for this with him.
“This is the second bath I’ve had today,” you note, watching the wisps of steam rising from your legs.
“Ahh, but you didn’t have me in the first one, did you?”
Indeed not. A big, sexy vampire is nothing but a welcome addition to the water. “I didn’t.” You pause, turning to look at him, humming happily when he presses his lips to yours. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” he whispers, hands stroking you with reverence. “I think that’s why I finally decided to stop being a twat and just, well...”
“Bang me into the lawn so hard, it probably left a body dent behind?”
He laughs, a loud burst that rings beautifully in your ears. “Yes, that’s it. In all honesty, though, I think I was grappling with a lot before. My own rising tide of envy, the very natural urge to be protective over you, truly not wanting to confuse you further by throwing myself into what must already be a very delicate balance for you to negotiate.” He kisses your head, a hand stroking fondly down your arm. “Some things are not created to be fought against, though.”
“No, they aren’t,” you reply, smiling happily. “I’m glad you gave in. I think it’s probably better you did. Before I make my decision, I need to get to know you, all of you, and that means you not hiding from me no matter your reasons.” He remains quiet, and you chase a droplet of water down his forearm with your fingernail. “I don’t know how well I’ll do with IV in getting to know him. He only drank my blood this morning because I forced him, took advantage of the fact that you vampires have a tough time passing up an open wound. This is literally the only reason I know what I do about him.”
His arms tighten around a fraction, and you know it’s him once again silently thanking you for your actions. “His life as a human was marred by such cruelty. I suppose now you understand his hostility is nothing personal. Humans were rarely good to him.”
“I do,” you sigh, remembering the way he’d trembled with the rage and shame of it, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I can’t imagine how frightened he must’ve been, being led off by the priest time after time, knowing exactly what would happen.”
“There is no sin as wicked, brutalising the innocence of children. It still brings me pleasure; to know he will never be released from his torment. Seven hundred metres he lies beneath the surface, never to be granted reprieve, until the end of all time. A fitting punishment, I thought.”
Turning your head, you kiss the crook of his forearm. “You were right to.”
A few more moments of contented silence pass between you, the cradle of hot water soothing, a question suddenly coming into your still blissed out brain. “Why did you choose them to be your offspring? And why so few, when you’ve been here for so long?”
“The curse is why so few,” he begins, and you realise you probably should have figured that out on your own. “As for them, they had unique qualities I admired. II was the most barbaric fighter I had ever witnessed, his power and skills unsurpassed. I found him dying in his camp, with what we now know to be sepsis set into a wound on his side. My blood couldn’t have cured that, it only works on wounds, not disease or infection. I offered him instead life eternal, to walk with me forever beneath the stars, allow him to continue being the great man he was.
“In III, I saw a doctor so misunderstood, cast aside by society when he should have been hailed for his vision. He still remains so brilliant, continues even now to study the medical profession, as he’s likely already shared with you. He could walk into a hospital again tomorrow and assist in saving lives, if only the pompous cunts who cast their rule over us would let him.
He pauses, his smile a touch fonder, something softening in his eyes. “Finally, in IV, I didn’t so much see greatness as I encountered a lost soul who reminded me of myself. He was truly all alone, had no understanding of family, of loving bonds. I’m glad I could give him that, prove to him that we could be trusted. The stories of our existences have been marked by different tragedies, but together in the eternity of our vampirism, we have woven something truly remarkable as a family.”
A family you find yourself drifting closer towards, your own threads tangling with theirs. Some intertwine with complexities, little knots that you realise will take much undoing, others knitted flawlessly. You’re a part of the tapestry now, but whether your woven scene will continue, or remain a mere flash of an image in their eternal lives is still to be contemplated.
You lie in comfortable conversation until your fingers begin to prune, climbing from the tub and drying off, moving into his bedroom. There, your bare skin is kissed by the warmth of the roaring fire, Ves standing before you, his hand reaching to remove the clip from your hair. It tumbles into his fingers, his lips finding yours, kisses of sensual, soft longing exchanged as he guides you down to his huge bed.
What you shared outside was driven by primal urgency, all need and fury. Now, though, with the entire evening ahead of you, the heat between you burns slow as you make time for acquaintance through exploration.
Your hands traverse him, enjoying the feel of hard, lithe muscles undulating beneath your palms, finally granting yourself the desire you kept locked deep in your thoughts from the very beginning; the desire to know what it is to touch him.
Whatever god or higher power created him, they crafted him into a being of deadly intent wrapped in sublime beauty, yet there is nothing dangerous in him as he maps paths over your skin with his fingertips, kissing your slow, his smooth chest beginning to steadily rise and fall beneath your hands.
The path his hands take are followed by his mouth, little skitters running like currents beneath your skin. He reads them, mapping each with kisses, wet trails from the tip of his tongue marking every judder. His touch is delicate yet precise, a hum of erotic divinity already winding tight in your core, your walls becoming dewy and pulsing with desire as his lips close around your nipples in turn.
Curling tendrils of warmth creep through you, watching as he flicks his tongue over one of those pink, pebbled peaks receiving the focus his mouth, a faint, aroused growl rattling in the back of his throat, eyes bled garnet. He leans to you, thumb dragging over your lower lip, the kiss he presses to your mouth evoking a deep crackle of heat.
“You are so impossibly beautiful, Grace,” he murmurs, nuzzling you softly. “I could live my time all over again and still scarcely comprehend such radiance.”
These creatures... between the sexual prowess and words of affirmation, they’ve ruined humans for you entirely. Nobody makes you feel quite as revered, or as alive, as the attentions bestowed upon you by living death.
Each of your breaths are pulled in shakily, his mouth once again wandering over you. Your neck, arms, chest and torso are worshipped, and you know there’s a tiny little bit of menace there beneath the veil of such a wholly considerate lover. He’s making you keen with the thought of where his mouth could go, and every sensation it’ll bestow once it arrives there.
Until then, your body bounces with the tiny lightning strikes the press of his lips and swirls of his tongue evoke, the thousands upon thousands of years learning exactly how to revere a woman’s body making you feel mindless from it; and he’s barely even begun. Your body sways, hips pushed back down by two big hands warmed from your skin, his tongue swirling at the juncture of your hip.
His hands tour your legs, pushing them to part wide, lips pressing kisses slowly up your inner thigh. From that first view of you spread before him, he’s transfixed, caught in the battle to tease you a little longer versus the need to sate his own desire by burying his mouth against the soft, dewy pink of your cunt.
He settles somewhere between the two, knowing he has you near out of your mind for his touch, tongue fluttering over a spot upon your thigh as he brings his fingers to you, stroking over your slit. Your hips buck, a mewl spilling over your lips like wine, jolting at the feel of him laying a soft bite to your flesh.
Transfixed at the sight of you, your pretty womanhood splayed before him, he gently teases your opening with his fingertips, groaning a deep rumble as he slides them into you fully. You flex with a soft clench of appreciation, feeling him moving them in circles over your front wall, widening, narrowing, his exploration pulling whines from you as your body begins to shake.
The intensity of his ministrations sends a glow of bliss tingling over your skin, fingers mapping every single nerve ending, pressing into them to send you on a breathless trajectory to the edges of heaven. You can feel yourself growing wetter, unable to believe he has you so mindless from the press of two fingers alone, those widening and tightening circles drawn so precisely, you feel yourself ascending already.
You lurch against his touch, and he gives you more, pressing firmer, eyes ruby dark as he watches you closely, peppering kisses against your inner thigh. Your walls spasm, thousands of tiny glimmers rushing over your nerves, barely able to believe he’s got you there with such little effort, your cunt streaming over his fingers as you begin to cry out on every soft pant.
“Mmm, that’s it, darling,” he murmurs, “come apart for me.”
It breaks over you cataclysmically, every muscle locking as you quiver hard, goosepimples flushing over your skin, the burst of pleasure shining over you like the bright of dawn. You shake violently, his free hand soothing you as it sweeps over your body, fingers gentling, lips kissing their way down your thigh.
You feel drunk on him entirely, head spinning, heart still pounding. “Oh, my god,” you pant, “what the hell did you just do to me?”
He chuckles, tongue flicking over your mound. “Blew your mind, apparently.” Oh, he’s smug with it, but he has every right to be. “And to think, I’ve only just begun.”
The tip of his tongue makes contact, your outer lips traced, fingers still gently moving in a wave within before widening, holding you spread, a softly flickered lick landing upon your opening. Tingles suffuse, your mind feeling syrupy and feverish at that first contact of his tongue licking at you, your gaping little hole tickled by cool wet.
His fingers leave you, Ves sucking them clean with a grunt, tongue returning to circle around your opening a few times before dragging, slow and firm right to the crest of your slit. You hiss with it, the first slicks of his tongue moving intently over your clit, hands fisting the pillow beneath your head, your back arching elegantly like a bow.
You’re losing your mind, panting hard, your moans rich and sinful. “Please, please don’t stop!”
He settles into a rhythm, eyes falling shut, hands curled around your thighs and grasping, holding you spread as his tongue whirls with light, then firm contact. The contrasting stimulation blacks out your brain for a moment, sends you fuzzy with it, pleasure fanning through you in warm waves.
Your hips move in soft little ruts against his mouth, and he knows you need more, tongue firming to flicker hard, sending you boneless, his lips closing over your bud to suck with a baritone rumble. Your pleasure comes sharp, his cheeks hollowed out, the epicentre radiating to meet the soft pulsing within your chest, tingles suffusing even further when he adds the pressure of a rolling tongue.
His mouth, warmed by the incessant gorging upon your slick sex, works you hard but with lazy heat, humming around you quietly. His fingers stroke over your thighs, reverent fingertips circling in time with his tongue, flint strikes crackling over your entire body. Closing your eyes, your fingers sink into the soft of his hair, and it hits you like a thousand tiny illuminations, the slick of your release flowing onto his tongue. But oh... he doesn’t stop.
The rolling of his tongue gentles, tracing the tip around your slit until you cool down a little, the crimson of his eyes almost bled to black from the inking of his pupils, lust blown and focusing on you intently.
“You taste so fucking sweet when you come.” he groans, gently dipping his tongue into you, the little nudge of his nose against your bud making you gasp. He eventually returns his mouth to it, soft licks building you again, hands traversing your sweat beaded body, the pleasure pooling syrupy and deep.
He makes you feel so good, it almost hurts, the throbbing ache within sated partially by his fingers slipping into you, two then three, trawling your depths, ecstasy blazing as he sucks on you again. It becomes too intense, winding tight, your tummy jumping as lightning starts to flicker, and he reads it, backing off the contact.
You’re held there in that torturous precipice, not quite allowed to tip over, your cries loudening as the fever within you burns like a forest fire. You’d curse the way these creatures can finely tune their touches to this level of skill... if it didn’t feel so criminally good.
You sob, your body jerking and trembling with it, your overly sensitive cunt trickling hot over his fingers, Ves working you to it, backing off, sending your thoughts to pure static. You’re floating through the garden of his pleasure, need pulsing strong to feel anchored to the moment again, that tethering delivered when he moves to kneel before you, letting your ascension finally reach its crest as he feeds his cock slowly into the soaking mess of you.
With every inch that slips in, you’re laddered higher and higher into your release, fluttering around him madly as he leans to you, hands bracketing your face, mouth pressing to yours. It feels like something torn from you, both broken from your soul and fused to it at the same time, Ves pulling from your mouth as his fangs snap.
Oh, how you crave for him to bite you, but you know even if he could, if your blood didn’t affect him badly, he wouldn’t. You do receive your wish granted for teeth, though, once his fangs have receded. Little bites crush sharp at your neck, his cock pressing thick and deep into you, as much as you can physically manage before he pulls back agonisingly slowly.
“Fuck...” he exhales on a shuddered breath, his chest beginning to rise and fall. “You feel, ahhh!” Moving, he pitches your legs over his shoulders, a couple more of his many inches sinking in, leaning to you once again to offer kisses steeped in sugared embers. Pushing back, he fills you again, and you have never felt so stretched, the sound of it lewd, sinful, your walls glossing him thickly at the wide heft of his shaft.
The heat of it is incandescent, an inferno unchecked, his hands everywhere as he gazes at you, inhuman growls echoing up through his throat. Your tummy clutches tight, feverish want feeling like it’s burning a hole within you, sparks scraped by the repetitive, deep spearing of his cock. Moving his thumb, he brings it to your clit, the little bud still oversensitive, his touch accommodating to that.
“You look so impossibly pretty, split so wide around my cock,” he virtually purrs, a little shift of his hips sending him at a different angle, making you cuss and whimper. “Mmm, yes. That’s it, my beauty. Let me hear every one of those sweet little moans.”
The rhythm of it sends ecstasy splicing through you, your spine alight with it, falling apart beneath him with a feral wail as you come for the... you’ve lost count. Fourth time? It matters not, Ves slipping your legs from your shoulder and hauling you up so you’re astride him, giving you no recovery time as he begins to bounce you upon his cock.
Glimmers race, tingles suffusing around the fissuring of him, and you feel it again, the current of bliss dragging at the edges of your focus. You clutch onto him, save going limp, but your arms feel like jelly. He tightens his hold, smiling widely when you mouth ‘oh my bloody god!’ at him, kisses soft.
“Told you I’d make you feel like you were floating.”
He wasn’t wrong, although the magic of his blood still casts its spells upon your consciousness, it’s the pleasure he gives taking centre stage here. It’s soul-rending magnificence, to share intimacy with a vampire who has had an eternity to utterly master it. The pleasure of it builds once again, but this time sinks into you rather than thudding out, a drawn-out wash of light glowing over your entire being, his hands slowly sliding down your glistening back.
Grasping your bum, he pulls you tighter against him, driving his hips up into the viscid clench of your cunt, his moans thickening as his chest heaves and he spills into you. His body shudders from it, forehead rested to yours, humming contentedly against your lips.
“I’d keep going, but I don’t want to split you in two.”
Entirely possible, being that he has a cock like a small arm holding onto a bloody apple!
“I’d appreciate a rest, yes,” you sigh with soft laughter, kissing him again. “You’re a lot of vampire to take!”
He hums a chuckle, leaning to move the duvet back and carefully place you beneath it, cock slipping from you with a very audible schlick. “I know. Some women haven’t been as brave in my past, but you likely do not want to hear about such.”
Your eyes widen a touch, reaching to poke his chest with your index finger. “I do if they’re funny stories.”
He tries to bite back his grin, but it doesn’t quite work. “Mm, some are, actually. Recently, there was a woman when I went away on business to Greece last year who fainted when she saw it. Then there was the woman in Florence seven years before, who screamed and ran out. II didn’t stop laughing about her for around half an hour, such was his entertainment at the situation.”
You find yourself giggling, although you understand the apprehension. If you’d seen it before being arrowed with it, you might have had a few reservations, being that it’s the hugest thing you’ve ever seen swing between someone’s legs. “Yeah, I sort of don’t blame them.” Your eyes flit down, then back to his face. “It feels amazing, though.”
He looks quietly smug. “Why, thank you."
“So, you mention business,” you venture, because you have wondered. “III said something about you having a lot of properties you rent out. Is that how you became so obscenely wealthy?”
He turns onto his back, pulling you near, and you rest your head against his shoulder. “In part, yes. Before then, I had amassed a huge wealth from the selling of ancient antiquities, although as far as inland revenue are concerned, that money doesn’t exist.”
You smile, tracing a circle around his nipple, watching it begin to peak against your fingertip. “You’re very shrewd, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he chirps, looking pleased with himself. “If you ever find yourself short of cash, too, you’ve only to come and ask. The vault was installed in the very last room at the end of the hallway, so I have an ample stack on hand. As I stated to you before, I have entirely too much money to know what to do with. It keeps my offspring very comfortable, so you should take advantage of that, too.”
It makes you feel a little uneasy, to hear such words, being that you’ve always very much been a proponent of finding your own way in life. The only real windfall you’ve ever had was being left your grandmother’s house. “That’s very generous of you, but I like being able to pay my own way.”
Those words, oh, you’re a tonic to him. He can spot them a mile away, women who only see him for his money. The last he had within that very bedroom, who he attempted to distract himself with while you were in the next room over with II, was very much that type of woman. He watched her mentally adding up his worth, dreaming of slotting herself into his world to become nothing but a spoiled, pampered girlfriend, should she be lucky enough.
He never saw her again.
Reaching to your face, he strokes your cheek, his smile warm. “You truly are a rare breed, Grace.”
“I don’t think I’m that rare,” you shrug. “Plenty of women out there enjoy providing for themselves without the cash of a man to fall back on. Perhaps you’ve been attracting the wrong type of woman?”
He chuckles softly, leaning to kiss your head. “You have absolutely no clue over your rarity. And yes, I think I probably have.” He studies you, finger gliding along your jaw, your own eyes focusing on him just as intently. He’s so beautiful to you, but not at all in the conventionally handsome way. High cheekbones, an unproud chin upon a nice jawline, pretty lips, a long neck and huge, blue eyes. “What?”
“Nothing,” you whisper softly, leaning to plant a kiss on those pretty lips. “I was just thinking how lovely you are to look at.” Shuffling closer, you press your mouth to his, turning him onto his back. “I think I’m rested plenty.”
He chuckles, and the sound is rich and velvety. “Oh, well far be it of me to stop where your mouth is going.”
In truth, you’re probably not rested enough, still aching between your legs, but part of that throb is gilded in want for the vampire whose chest you pepper hot, open-mouthed kisses across, descending to his abs. God, he’s so chiselled, like he’s been carved from alabaster, your tongue touring the dips and rises of his muscles, chasing licks over every shadow cast upon him, hand reaching down to grasp his cock.
Mmm, he’s still like iron, your grip pumping slowly upon him, staggered by the feel of it, the huge girth that narrows a little more as the base, feeling him twitch against your fingers as a soft grunt rends the air. That sound deepens considerably when you bring your mouth to him, fingers gently tugging his foreskin back to suck upon the nerve ending rich head concealed beneath.
Tentatively, you slip more of him into your mouth, relaxing your jaw, feeling the heft of him pressing onto your tongue. It’s a strain, trying to accommodate him, being mindful of teeth placement.
“Sorry, I’m trying, but... not to labour the point about you being a lot to take,” you say, pausing to flick your tongue over the head of him.
It sends the kind of bolts up his spine that render him mute for a few seconds. “I don’t expect you to break your jaw in attempt to, darling.” A few more flicks, a very aroused growl. “Doing what you’re doing right now... fuck. No words. Other than please, don’t stop.”
Hearing that little twang of desperation in his voice fuels your desire, turns it into a thing that runs on its own momentum, your tongue laying quick slicks all over the tip of his cock. You let a liberal trickle of saliva roll down his shaft, lubing him plentifully to the clutch of your hand, working him in time with your mouth.
Suck, flicker, squeeze, pull, moaning as you pleasure him, watching as his chest begins to softly rise and fall. It will never be something you tire of, rendering a creature capable of such barbarity to a brain-scrambled mess beneath your touch.
“Mmm, yeah. I love the way this beautiful cock feels when it pulses in my mouth,” you purr, dragging your nails over his abs with your free hand, his groans thickening, loudening, arousal amping sharply. “That’s it, oh wow. You’re so bloody hard. I can’t wait to feel you come right down my throat.”
Whether human or vampire, if there’s one thing males cannot get enough of, it’s being dirty talked to as they get close, Ves reaching that point a lot quicker than you anticipated, your tongue working him diligently, a cold jet of cum coating your tongue as he groans low. Swallowing, you move back up the bed, placing yourself astride his hips and sinking down onto his still twitching cock, bracing your hands against his chest.
Your mouth falls open, feeling him so, so deep inside you, his hands moving to your waist as you begin to ride him slow. Each sinfully sensual roll of your hips has his cock hitting you at every angle, every depth, his hands beginning to tour your skin, the mutual share of desire shared not wavering for a moment.
The rise and fall of your bodies, the intensity of your tryst plays out like a dance, sometimes languid, often fervid, right throughout the small hours. In fact, it borders on brutal shortly before the break of dawn, but oh, how you thrive.
To have him pounding into your soaking wet, ruined centre from behind, spanking your bum with hard strikes, with your hair wrapped around his fist as he holds your bent like a bow is erotic bliss in the extreme. The fact he’s growling low and predatory with his fangs bared as he does it does nothing but ramp up the already scorching heat.
You crest with a shrill cry, spine alight with nirvana itself, Ves pulling from you, yanking you around to face him, pushing his cock into your mouth and fucking you until you gag, but ultimately do not spill a drop as he comes deep in your throat.
Panting hard, you lick your way up the trail of hair leading to his navel, over his heaving chest, biting his neck as he recedes his fangs, your mouth crushing to his in kisses full of smoking embers.
“Again,” you demand, pulling him down atop you, feeding his cock back into the burning wet of your cunt.
He arches an eyebrow. “You’ll be sore come the evening,” he warns. “I can’t give you any more of my blood, you’ve probably had too much as it is.”
You have, and even with only the application of it to your skin, you’re high out of your mind and very, very horny. Of course, he knows that. “Don’t care,” you beam, biting his lower lip, tongue swirling with his. “I want you again.”
“Well, what the lady wants,” he begins, kissing you sensually, his mouth moving to your throat as he arrows into you fully. “The lady gets.” He then looks down upon you with a wink. “Eventually.”
Slipping from your heat, he kisses his way back down your body, the connection of a rolling lick over the pearl of your sex making you jolt. If that’s what you’re going to receive, then eventually is just fine.
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