My belt unbuckled and my zipper undone, I pulled out my cock and prodded the head against her entrance, then lowered it slightly to tease her clit again. “You’ll come again for me, won’t you?”
“Always,” she replied, her voice husky in post-bite bliss.
I nudged my cock in an inch, enjoying the way she pushed against me, desperate for more, and happily obliged.
Jen was no omega, but for a human she was almost perfect. That was part of the reason I wanted to bring her to the club with me tonight. I was hoping to find a new master for her. Even if I couldn’t keep her, I’d trained her well enough that some other vampyr could reap the rewards.
Every thrust brought me slightly more inside her tight cunt, and she moaned in response. “Harder! Fuck me until it hurts!”
Who could argue with that? I grabbed her hips and thrust all the way to the hilt, my balls slapping violently against her wet skin.
Her gasp and grimace told me I’d succeeded in bringing her the pain she craved. I was about to pull out and go again when the bathroom door opened.
“Hey, you’re getting started without me?”
My dick softened a touch at the grating sound of her voice, but before I could respond Jen turned to look at her and yelled. “Shut the fuck up Grace, this isn’t for you!”
Grace’s face turned red and she mumbled something under her breath, retreating to lick her wounds.
“Mike,” Jen whimpered, her fingers gripping the bedspread. “Please, don’t stop.”
I fucked her until she cried.
Jen’s outburst had effectively shamed Grace until we were finished.
After showering, I let Grace know very clearly that I was in no mood for her mindless chit chat and reminded her that, as the lowest ranking member of my servaglio, she was expected to be humble, demure, and above all – silent.
Her apology was quiet, but when she reached for my crotch, I twisted her wrist until it almost snapped. How did she still not understand?
“You’ll get my cock when you’ve earned it. Donotembarrass me tonight.”
I had told them to pack for a night out, and at least I could trust the both of them on that. Grace wore a skintight, black dress with cutouts along her stomach and a high slit in the skirt. A large bracelet attempted to hide the bruises from our earlier conversation.
Jen had chosen a navy halter jumpsuit made of velvet, with silver pumps and large hoop earrings.
And they both matched my simple black suit and maroon shirt. I had skipped the tie, leaving the top button opened. Hiding your neck was a sign of weakness among vampyrs, and I needed to display my strength that evening.
“You know what’s expected of you,” I reminded them from the front seat of the Uber. “Elder Sable wants to know about Marlowe, so we’re mostly going to talk about her. As my servaglio, you need to be in agreement with anything I say. Any hint of discord reflects poorly on me and my ability to choose women appropriately. That could mean the revocation of the Council’s warriors.”
I turned around and faced Grace directly, scowling. “Can I trust you to keep your mouth shut and face neutral?”
“Yes, master,” she whispered, her eyes focusing on the purse on her lap.
“If you ruin this for me, Grace, I swear to the Moon, I will kill you. Slowly and painfully.”
The Uber driver side-eyed us nervously, and I shifted in my seat to face him. “We’re just joking.”
His eyes darkened. “Yes, you were just joking.”
The car dropped us off in front of an empty alley in the French Quarter, and we followed the ivy-covered brick walls until we arrived at a small, nondescript red door. I knocked, and a pair of violet eyes glared at us from the peephole.
“Password?”
I bared my fangs in response, the peephole sliding shut as the heavy locks were lifted and the door opened.
“Enjoy your evening.”
I nodded at the doorman and headed down the long hallway, following the din of voices and jazz music, the smell of iron-rich blood and aged bourbon heavy in the air. At the end were a set of heavy curtains, and I pushed them aside, holding them open behind me for Jen and Grace.