Page 1 of The Sanguine Selection
Marek
Late nineteenth century
I tapmy leg in time to the seconds ticking by, willing them to go faster. Only five more minutes, and then she’s mine again. Five endless minutes, three hundred eternal seconds. When you’re immortal, time drags on even more, and I despise it for keeping me from what I crave.
I’m like an addict. I can’t get enough of her blood, of her sweet pussy. She consumes my every thought, both waking and unconscious, for it’s her face that haunts my dreams and invades my darkest nightmares. If I try, I can taste the metallic flavor of her on my tongue, but it’s not enough.
At the two-minute mark, I rise from my chair and charge into the room. Normally, I wait longer since the sight of my twin fucking our delectable blood-slave deteriorates my self-control, but I have no patience today. Besides, I need to ensure he doesn’t take too much.
Humans are such fragile creatures. We only drink a couple times a day each from our slave, but luckily, her tight cunt is always available to slake our other thirst. In between feedings, we give her a blood tonic, meant to replenish her precious life-force as well as strengthen her.
My brother and I are not gentle lovers, and we’ve broken our toys in the past, but not this one. This one is special. There’s something about her—the taste of her, the feel of her—I would burn the world to nothing but smoldering ashes to have her.
It’s not love. I’m too old, too jaded, for such a trite emotion. It’s obsession, plain and simple. She’s a madness in my brain, an infection in my blood, that I have no hope of curing—not that I’d want to. My singular desire is to drown in her essence, only to be revived and do it again.
Mikhail fucks our slave from behind, his teeth buried even deeper in her neck than his dick in her pussy. Her breathy moans echo around us, and my balls tighten in anticipation. A tingle skids down my spine, and I know my twin is close.
Over the centuries, our emotions entwined to the point where I sometimes wonder who is truly experiencing what, but in this case, I know. I’ve sunk myself between her legs, and the shadow of pleasure I sense from my brother is a fraction of what I taste when I’m inside of our blood-slave.
“Your time is up.” My twin’s eyes flash at my words and he growls, his hips never slowing, fangs sinking farther into our slave’s flesh. “Mikhail, stop! We have The Claiming in a few hours, and she mustn’t be depleted.”
Mikhail’s brows snap together and he retracts his teeth, but not his cock. He knew I only meant for him to stop drinking. He reaches around our slave’s petite form, curling tighter around her as he cups her luscious tits in his hands.
Her moans turn into airy pants as he fucks them both over the edge before they collapse onto the bed together, still joined. Neither moves, and my jaw ticks as I force myself to remain passive. My brother punishes me for interrupting him, but he knows he would do the same.
Like me, thishumanwoman wormed her way under his skin. Nothing has come between my twin and me since our creation, but this one little human might be our undoing. There’s a tension blooming amid the three of us that I can no longer ignore.
“Mikhail, we must talk. Precious, I’ll leave you to rest for a bit.”
My brother’s ruby-red eyes snap open, acknowledging the importance of what I want to say that keeps me away from our perfect plaything. She doesn’t stir, worn from the constant attention my twin and I lavish on her body.
I step back outside of the room and summon a servant to bring me her tonic. Since she’s sleeping, I inject it directly into her bloodstream. With The Claiming so close, I don’t want her weakened before we take from her.
Tossing the needle aside for someone else to clean, I motion for Mikhail to follow me. I slip through two doors before reaching our private library next to our sleeping quarters. We each have a chamber on either side of our slave but spend most of the time in her room.
Mikhail licks his red lips stained with our slave’s blood. “Are we going to war?”
My twin’s question takes me off guard. “No.”
A subtle shudder passes through him as his throat works to swallow the last bit of her down. He blinks, holding my gaze without wavering as no one else can, his eyes darkening. “We better be. It’s the singular reason I’d allow you to pull me away from her so abruptly without ripping you to shreds.”
I heave a sigh. “Our lands are safe and our rule undisputed. I want to talk about…her.”
Mikhail’s eyes narrow, still blazing crimson from his recent feed. “What about her?”
“That—that’s what I want to talk about. The possessive growl.”
“You mean the same one you have whenever you mention our slave?”
“Yes.” My quiet admittance stymies him. “Brother, she’s coming between us, and that is dangerous. A divide in our rule means a divide in our crown. We have too many enemies, let alone fawning admirers, who would happily take advantage. They will try to steal our slave and throne—”
A feral hiss escapes Mikhail’s lips. “They can try. We will rip them apart until there’s nothing left but marrow and gristle.”
I smile without humor. “Indeed, but why get to that point?”
“What do you propose?”
“You and I must become a united front again—and not just in appearance. This girl…she’s becoming a divide.”
