SAORI’S WET DREAMS — Blood taste
tags: explicit sexual content (18+), vampire jinx, blood drinking, biting kink, cunnilingus, fingering, orgasm control, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, power play, begging, marking (bites), pet names
Jinx’s voice is low, the way she caresses each word sends chills down your spine, as if she licks every syllable before offering it to you, teasing you, torturing you. You count the seconds from the moment she approaches, hidden in the dimness of her studio. She crosses the room like she’s floating, almost gliding over the rug, and you shiver because you know what that half-smile on her lips means.
“Did you come to hear another story, little one?” she asks, never taking her eyes off you, too blue, too fixed.
You dare to nod. You don’t trust your voice, your tongue already feels thick, your legs weak from the memory of the last time. Three nights ago, you thought you might die from pleasure and terror. Tonight, you came back for more. You need more. You don’t know how or when it happened, but seeing Jinx’s fangs, feeling how she has to hold herself back from pouncing on you and sucking you dry, makes your panties soak and drives you desperate in ways you’ve never felt before.
She sits beside you on the divan, her thigh brushing yours, and begins telling you about ancient wars and mad empresses, about tasting a pharaoh’s blood and girls who existed only to feed her. Deep down, you know every story is a trap, Jinx never tells one without weaving in her desire to bite you.
But you listen anyway. You’ve been listening for a while now, letting her ramble for hours about memories from a hundred years ago, a hundred and fifty, more—this vampire never tires of having you close, and you never tire of her voice, knowing sooner or later it will lead you to a mind-blowing orgasm.
“You know what I want,” you say at last, unable to resist the knot tightening in your chest.
Jinx laughs softly and takes your chin in one hand. Her skin is cold, a sharp contrast to yours, sending a shiver from your head straight down to your clit.
“What do you want, darling? Say it nicely. You know I won’t deny you anything.”
You wet your lips, your eyes filling with sweet tears.
“I want you to bite me. I want you to make me cry.”
That’s enough. Jinx lunges, pinning your wrists against the back of the couch, her weight hovering over you, her knee pressing between your thighs. The strength is brutal but never breaking, she just opens you like you’re made of wax. You feel her breath at your neck, but nothing matters when she tears your blouse open in a rush, buttons popping, your breasts bouncing free against the cold air of the room. Jinx pauses to look at them, to touch them like she’s inspecting a prize.
“They’ve grown since last time,” she comments, licking her lips. “Are you sure you’re human?”
You don’t have time to answer. Her mouth closes around your left nipple, sucking with hunger, like she wants to bruise it, her tongue circling while her fangs press just enough to warn you what’s coming.
You don’t want it yet.
“No” you whimper, and Jinx bites down hard, just your nipple, just to make you scream.
That’s when the real game begins. She strips you fast, your panties torn down, your pants shoved aside with her foot, leaving you naked and shaking, your body marked with burning bites, the skin of your tits already starting to ache from the assault.
Jinx takes her time then, studying you, savoring the fear on your face, the tremble of your spread thighs and the shame of your cunt shining with need.
“Look at you, sweetheart. You haven’t stopped getting wet since you got here,” she whispers in your ear, sliding a finger between your folds. “Do you know how much I love your taste?”
A chill runs through you, you don’t know if she means your blood or your slick.
“Want me to eat you, doll?” she teases, pushing her finger deep into your cunt, like she’s measuring how much desperation fits inside.
You nod, and she thrusts in and out roughly, sometimes pulling her finger out just to show you the glossy shine. Jinx is fascinated by your fluids, she says humans, especially you, are sources of liquid sugar.
You have to beg. “Please, Jinx, don’t torture me. Suck me.”
She smiles and drops to her knees, spreading your legs and burying her face in your cunt. Her tongue is cold, vibrating, dragging across your clit in electric movements, like it was made just for this. You arch, your feet curling inward, grabbing her blue hair and pushing her deeper.
Jinx devours you shamelessly. She sucks, bites gently, spits and licks again, like a starving woman eating for the first time in ages, unwilling to leave anything behind. You feel overwhelmed, humiliated, but fiercely alive.
Your moans build into cries, echoing through the mansion walls, the sound embarrassing and thrilling all at once.
“Do you like that, sweetheart?” she asks between licks. “Do you like me eating you in front of all these ghosts?”
You don’t know what she means, but in your mind you see shadows behind the curtains, old portraits watching your nakedness.
The thought makes you shiver, and makes your cunt drip even more. You feel your slick sliding down your thighs, cold and sticky, but Jinx gathers every drop with her mouth and fingers, sometimes pushing two in at once, stretching you wider and wider.
“Almost there, almost there,” she purrs, and you know she can feel your orgasm building, ready to snap.
But she stops you. She always does, like she enjoys dragging you to the edge just to push you off with a single finger. “Don’t you want my bite first?” she mocks, and you cry in frustration.
“Yes, yes, please. Bite me.”
She cups your neck, massaging it with her thumbs, and when you feel her fangs press against your artery, it’s like something tears open inside your soul.
Jinx sinks her teeth in with surgical precision. The pain is sharp and brief, then melts into heat and euphoria. Your blood pounds in your temples and your clit, every nerve in your body turning into a single burning thread. Jinx sucks, and you convulse, the orgasm hitting like a shockwave, your legs kicking the air, your cunt pulsing release after release over your sweet vampire’s fingers.
She doesn’t stop. She works the wound slowly, alternating suction with soft touches to your nipples, now red and hard. Her fingers stay inside you, and every time her tongue moves at your neck, your cunt tightens and spills another wave of pleasure.
You come again, screaming her name this time, a raw, animal sound echoing through the hall.
When Jinx finally stops, she does it with the cruel elegance of someone with centuries of experience. She licks the blood from your collarbones, gathers the slick from your cunt, cleans the sweat from your forehead with her tongue. You collapse, your skin covered in red marks, your body trembling like after a fever.
Jinx sits beside you, wraps an arm around you from behind, and kisses your shoulder, now gentle.
“You’re mine, doll. My favorite,” she murmurs, and all you can do is nod, your mind empty of anything but the need to feel her again.
You don’t think about tomorrow, or the anemia, or whether you’ll ever be able to get turned on by anything other than Jinx’s hunger. Because she already taught you, you’re addicted to her bite, and you know it.
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