Page 36 of Victory for Vampires

A quarter hour later, I push through the front door of our apartment above Higher Grounds. The scent of blood calls me, Pietro and Alé teasing me through our bond. It’s not their blood, though. No, it’s my elf’s.

Smiling, I toss my bag onto the counter and walk down the hall to the playroom. When I enter, I find Diavolo hung from the ceiling by a series of ropes, his cock dripping precum onto the floor as Alé laps fervently at his sack.

“Hello, boys,” I greet them as I kick off my shoes.

Pietro rises from a chair and comes to me, pulling me into his arms for a kiss that steals my breath. When we part, he spins me to face Diavolo, whose face is scrunched up as he pants and cries out, begging for relief.

“You’re home,” he croaks. “Gods, please let me come. They said I could come when you got home.”

Pietro moves to my back, piling my hair on top of my head. He brings his mouth to my neck and bites. Orgasm hits me, and I thrash in his arms, liquid heat soaking my panties as I come hard enough for my knees to buckle. My mate holds me steady, the rock keeping me safe and secure as bliss barrels through me.

“Please,” Diavolo begs again. “Let me out of these ropes. I need you.”

“Join me, mate,” Alé offers before returning his focus to Diavolo’s cock and balls.

“Let him down,” I command. “I need a ‘welcome home’ kiss.”

With a beleaguered sigh, Alé pulls a few bits of rope, releasing Diavolo carefully to the ground.

In moments, the dark elf is on his feet, crossing the short distance between us. He grips my throat and pushes me hard against Pietro, hovering his lips over mine with a soft snarl. “They’ve been torturing me for hours, Valentina. Hours.”

I reach up and stroke my knuckles along his sharp jawline, eyes locked to his as he breathes hard, chest heaving.

“My poor, needy elf,” I croon. “Do you need relief, my sweet?”

“Yes,” he moans. “But I want to give you something first.” He looks over his shoulder at Alé, then back at Pietro and me. “Something I’ve wanted to give you for a while.”

He drops his grip on my throat and takes a few steps away from us as Alé joins Pietro and me.

My beautiful mate plants a kiss on my shoulder. “Welcome home, by the way.”

I smile as we stand together, staring at Diavolo. The elf’s expression is serious—more serious than I’ve ever seen it in the months we’ve known him.

“Dia, are you okay?” I start forward just as I hear the first crack of bone. Shocked at the loud noise, I rush to him.

He pulls my hands to his chest. His skin is scorching hot. Another crack rends the air, followed by another. Before my eyes, Diavolo’s body grows. His arms, legs, and torso grow longer. His horns flex and thicken.

“My gods,” Alé whispers.

“Are you sure?” I look into pitch-black eyes, and what I see there is something more than the playful relationship we’ve developed with the dark elf. I see commitment. I see desire. I see…adoration.

“I’m sure.” He holds my hands on his body as he grows and grows until he’s nearly ten feet tall. His beautiful black horns easily add another three or four feet to his height.

“I’ve never seen a dark elf in their true form,” I whisper.

He smiles at me. “I’ve never shown anyone my true form. Not a single time in my entire life.” He looks around as my mates join us. “But I wanted to show the three of you. I want you to drink from me like this.”

Pietro gasps. “Are you sure, Diavolo? This is a gift beyond measure.”

Dark elf blood is priceless, more valuable than gold and gems all together, due to its ability to strengthen any type of magic and heal any illness or wound. Thousands of years ago, they were hunted for that very reason. But some smart ancestor devised a way to bind their blood with magic. Now, its magical properties only work when the blood is freely given.

“I want to share this with you, all of you,” he repeats. “It would be a great honor for you to drink from me.”

“Of course, my sweet,” I whisper, the first tear spilling down my cheek. “How would you like us to take you?”

He moans, reaching down to pull me up into his arms. His lips brush against mine. “Violently. Over and over. Take me any way you want to, Val.”

I love his nickname for me. Both of my mates call me Valentina, and I love the way they say it. But with Diavolo, we’re Val and Dia. It’s different.

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