Page 18 of Death Comes for Her
My cunt clenched around nothing, woefully empty. I curled my fingers lower, shoving two of them inside me. Weeks of denying myself relief to spite the venom-induced desire had built up, burning under the surface like a bubbling volcano. Catching them fucking like mad beasts became the catalyst I didn’t know I needed. I curled my fingers against my g-spotwhile grinding my palm into my clit, chasing the eruption my body vibrated for.
Simon sucked in a gasp before venting a drawn-out groan. His frenzied motion froze, leaving his hips jerking. Two more passes of his hand over his cock and creamy white ropes sprayed over the dark wood of the credenza.
I licked my lips at the sight, mouth watering for a taste of his cum. I’d wished he’d come across my tongue or deep inside of me. The mental image and the echoing of Dante’s increasing grunts sent me hurtling over the edge of ecstasy. Pleasure snapped through me, unleashing a white-hot inferno. My thighs tensed, body shaking, moans muffled against my palm as I gushed around my fingers.
Half melted against the wall, I noticed the change in Simon’s expression seconds before Dante roared with his release. His hips stilled with his cock buried deep in Simon’s ass, hands still possessively holding the pale vampire in place. But Simon’s features twisted into an ice-cold flurry until his lips peeled back to reveal his fangs.
“Get the fuck off me,” he snapped, elbowing Dante away. He shoved his softening cock back into his trousers. His shoulders rose and fell in heavy breaths as he laced himself up and straightened his rumpled shirt.
The vampire stumbled back, dripping cock yanked from its warm sheath. The dark thatch of hair at the base of his thick cock almost distracted me. I focused on his bemused scoff instead.
“Don’t take that attitude with me now that you’ve come!” Dante barked. He fixed his own clothing, glaring at the pale vampire. “You’re the one who approached me and pulled me in here. Now you’re mad that I’ve fucked you when that’s exactly what you wanted?”
Simon whirled around, struggling to smooth his pinched brow and scrunched nose. “I needed a release, and you were conveniently close. Don’t treat this as something it’s not.”
“Because we’re not ‘like that anymore’, right?” he scoffed, adding a dramatic eye roll for effect.
“Exactly. Not for a long time. I just slipped up. It means nothing.”
Dante crossed his arms over his wide chest. He narrowed his glowering hazel eyes. “You fed from her this morning, didn’t you?”
I straightened up as ice shards jolted through my blood. Every muscle fiber under my skin tensed to flee.
Simon carded his fingers through disheveled white hair. His shoulders sank, and he faced away from Dante. He nodded, wordlessly admitting what the other already knew.
“Don’t use me when it’s her you want.” The weight of Dante’s words slammed into the back of my head like a fist. I doubted the validity of his statement as soon as they floated into existence. He had to be wrong. But he continued. “Gods know I want the same thing, brother. If we keep fighting it, we’ll end up tearing each other apart to…”
I didn’t stay to listen further.
Simon had turned toward the door, intent on leaving Dante behind. My feet propelled me down the hall as if I were being hunted for sport. I slipped into a side corridor and tucked myself into a dark alcove as the door slammed, rattling the paintings on the walls through the second floor. I stayed hidden until my heart slowed, my blood cooled, and the house went silent again.
Chapter 6
Another week passed without a successful visit to the library. I contended myself by exploring my reserved wing of the manor. Outside of my suite, I located an abandoned office, a vacant sitting room with lavish chairs, and a forgotten smoking lounge. Newfound courage from my unhindered daily voyages provided the fuel for longer walks and extended absences from my room.
My days flitting through opulent manor halls carried more freedom than my time indentured on the farm. I recognized the difference in trading one cage for another, and admittedly, I preferred the new one. Despite the increasing tension with the vampire lords, I’d pick staying there against going back to any semblance of what I’d lived through the past decade.
But the one thing I missed more than anything: my access to the outdoors. At the farm I’d practically lived outside, day in and out. It gave me time to climb atop the highest peak of the barn, throw my arms and pretend I still had my wings. I could feel the air tickling my skin, the phantom fluttering on my back, and imagine days long gone where I’d commanded the sky.
Without the sun and stars, without the sky, without the wind, my nightmares grew in intensity. All variations of memories, returning to haunt me night after night. In the morning I often woke drenched in sweat, twisting with agony and wondering why I’d lived when the others hadn’t. Feelings of being unworthyof my survival chained me to the bed, where I wallowed in misery.
I’d eat and bathe and dress. Then I’d wander the empty halls around my room like a golden phantom, coasting along on winds of isolation. I was always back in my room when the vampires returned to feed and indulge in my blood.
Simon came in the mid-mornings, always punctual for whatever schedule he’d set for himself. So, it surprised me when he never arrived during the past seven days. It dawned on me that I hadn’t seen him since his last feeding… the day I’d witnessed him and Dante fucking.
I’d refused myself a second to wonder over what they’d said. It wasn’t important to me, and I repeatedly told myself I didn’t care what they thought. Any time those memories roused in my mind, I slammed them back down and locked them behind a mental wall.
The pale, frigid bastard was either avoiding me or wasn’t at the manor. It didn’t sting if it was the first option, but I still hoped it was the second. My pride, I thought, refused to believe that anyone who looked at me the way Simon often did could avoid me. His frosty glares were reserved, but they were latent with something akin to forbidden wanting—
No. I wouldn’t think about it.
Missing a day of vampire venom affected me adversely. The underlying itch to experience that toxic rush hounded me. I longed for the euphoric, mind-numbing release and the heated storm in my loins that their venom provided. It was a sickening, growing addiction that left me sweating and feeling as if there were ants crawling under my skin.
I hated myself for surviving when my people were slaughtered. I hated myself for enjoying the scant luxuries of life in a big house with constant food. I hated myself for wanting the vampires to bite me again and again. And I fucking hatedthat dreams of being tangled up between the two of them were infiltrating my nightmares.
Dante arrived on his usual day of the week, preferring to feed in the afternoon. Part of me considered asking him about Simon’s absence when he first entered the room. That thought quickly died as he crashed into me, walking me backwards to the couch, and promptly sank his fangs into my neck. The overwhelming pain of the sudden, urgent bite throttled all thoughts from my head.
A terrific wave of euphoria washed through me, ceasing the stinging pain in my neck and replacing it with intoxicated bliss. I coasted, dazed and aroused through his visit, hardly aware that his wandering hand traveled further, and his groping became more wolfish. He drank and pawed at me like an animal, and I, high on venom, arched and moaned into him.
