Page 45 of Death Comes for Her
“I can’t hold back. Please.” Tears laced with glittering flecks spilled from my eyes. A keening wail erupted from me as the blistering inferno in my belly raged to new heights.
“That’s it, let go. Come on, Sierra,” Simon encouraged.
“Come for us, pet. Let us know how much you love vampire cock, and come,” Dante echoed the tone of his brother’s command.
My body seized, gripped by world shattering pleasure. I shook beneath Simon, quaking against him as ripples of divine bliss cascaded from my belly through my limbs. The sudden grip of my pussy flexing on his cock sent him spiraling over the edge with me. His movement stuttered as he climaxed with me.
“Oh, gods, yes!” Dante fucked us both through the wild trembling of our orgasms. The friction of the dark-haired vampire rocking caused a delicious friction from Simon’s cock as I milked him. Though we were still, almost limp, Dante chased the edge of his release until he finally came undone.
“See, I’ll take care of you. You feel so good. You did so good for us, sweet pet,” Simon mumbled between lazy, affectionate kisses. He nuzzled his nose into mine and the tender intimacy made something alive and vibrant flutter in my stomach.
“Fuck, that was—” Dante started.
“—Amazing,” Simon finished.
Basking in the golden glow of that frantic carnal energy, blissed out of my mind with the most erotic sexual encounter of my life, I couldn’t help but agree with them.
Chapter 15
Dulcet moans spilled past my lips, dripping into the air. My hips rocked back and forth, and a scruff, short beard tickled the insides of my thighs. I spread my fingers on his broad and hard chest, head tossed back as Dante tongue-fucked me, lapping at my dripping center.
The past two days had passed in a heated blur of wanton flesh and animalistic joining. I slept, tangled between two vampires and physically sated into exhaustion. Waking moments were spent entwined, long hours of time stretched, measured as moans instead of seconds and cries of pleasure instead of minutes.
Something dreadful loomed ahead. Responsibilities raced at our newfound trio that didn’t involve legs wrapped around hips and heads buried between thighs. Despite that, I chose to live in throes of passion instead of crippling fear with the time we had.
So many positions in so many rooms of the manor. Our hungry, greedy trio had grabbed and fucked through as many places as possible until we collapsed in hallways, on couches, on rugs, and on a bed. Food came for me at random intervals, times where Simon encouraged me to drink water. He washed my body and soaped my hair when I bathed, and Dante watched.
I’d ridden Simon in the bath while Dante stood outside of the tub with his cock in my mouth.
On my hands and knees in the hallway, Dante held my hips carefully, pounding into me from behind until I gushed and trembled on his length. Simon had kneeled in front of me, his perfectly beautiful cock gliding over my tongue with my drool dripping down my chin.
The day before, Dante sat on the couch as I bounced on his cock, facing forward. Simon kneeled between our legs, tongue feverishly lapping at my clit until my body seized from the pleasure.
During a late midnight meal, Dante licked my slick pussy under the table. His wide tongue slipped through my sensitive folds, assaulting my clit until I forgot about the food and nearly vibrated in the chair. Simon took that moment to rip open my dress, spill my wine in dark red rivulets over my breasts and peaked pink nipples. He lapped at them in time with Dante’s wicked tongue, suckling on my breasts until I came with a shrill cry.
On a couch in the library, I rode Simon’s face while Dante pounded into him. I’d bowed over Simon’s pale, lean body and sucked his cock into my mouth. Dante had held my hair with a delicate touch, keeping it out of my face and gazing down at me, sucking cock with lust-filled wonder.
Last night I’d laid on my side in bed, Simon slowly impaling my ass from behind. He had an arm around my ribs, fondling and teasing my breasts. Dante climbed up onto the mattress, parted my knees to make room for his shoulders, and sucked my clit while fingering my drenched cunt. He’d eventually twisted upright, facing me. He held my hip, slipping his cock into my cunt while Simon took me from behind.
Our movements slowed, lying comfortably entwined in one another in the safe confines of bed. Kisses from cool lips pressed into my neck and shoulders. A rough beard tickled my face as a harsh mouth claimed my lips. It was sensual and deliciouslyslow. It was hot breaths, warm hands, and eyes glazed with awe, amazement, and carnal need.
It was frighteningly intimate and heart-breakingly sensual.
And we talked. In between the wanton moans, grunts, and whimpers, we exchanged words. Meaningful words that held significance, even if they meant nothing on the surface.
Dante regaled us with stories of the past; the world a hundred years ago, the people he knew, the places he traveled, and the battles he fought. How he got into the business of hunting werewolves after fighting in a savage war he barely remembered the details of.
Simon shared memories of a youth spent taking etiquette lessons with his siblings, and how manners and education were beaten into every fiber of his being. He vaguely recalled his time at university, his quick marriage to a wife he tolerated for his family’s sake, and his brief, fleeting excitement at becoming a father before he lost everything.
The dark-haired vampire had taken to his transformation and their Maker, Craven, right away. He’d already spent over thirty years as a loud, wild man—adding bloodlust to his nature only exacerbated his character.
And the usually reserved, cold vampire finally opened up about how grateful he’d been all those years ago to have Dante as a brother, introducing him to the vampire world at a time when their Maker was busy elsewhere.
Craven had turned Simon and initiated him into the Ambrose coven as an asset because of his magical prowess. They admitted to me that the plan for vampires to manipulate magic into stealing the sun from the sky had been a plot hundreds of years in the making.
The admission made the anguish of my world falling apart feel inevitable. It was my misfortune that Sanctus consuming the sun happened in my adolescence. Fair folk stop aging, becomeimmortal, and I never got to experience a first love, marriage, marvelous adventures, or a family of my own.
I’d lived eighteen short years in the lap of luxury—albeit strained as the war ramped up—until my eventual servitude with humans and capture by vampires.
