Page 42 of The Sanguine Selection
It’s Jasper who calls, jolting me from the abyss that longs to consume me. My chest heaves as I'm ripped away from the memory, and my eyes snap open to the chilling reality of the present. The tantalizing aroma of fresh blood dances in the air, stoking my dormant hunger into an inferno of need.
Beside me, lies Mikhail, and I gape in shock at his transformation. No longer is he an unrecognizable creature, aged from centuries of rot and decay. My twin is nearly completely restored to his former glory—and not a moment too soon. Neither of us can afford to appear any weaker with usurpers lurking around every corner of our castle, waiting to dethrone us.
“Jasper, look at him.”
“Yes, my lord. The Blood Slave has proven to be most restorative for your brother. I’m excited to see how her essence heals you.”
The Blood Slave—the one who woke Mikhail and me. She’s special, different, but neither my twin nor I can ever acknowledge this beyond making it a statement. Her status will be elevated, her role as a slave more meaningful because of her blood, but she will never be anything to either Mikahil or me.
She can’t be.
I sit up as Jasper assists me into a wheelchair. My body shakes, slick and clammy with sweat, partly from my nightmares and partly from my need for sustenance. The memory of Larissa's death lingers bitterly, but the hunger gnawing at my insides demands my attention more.
As my Jasper wheels me into a dimly lit room, my senses sharpen, and the hunger within me roars to the surface. He positions me near a row of women, each bound and exposed, their spread thighs bearing the marks of those before me.
Blood drips from their cunts into precious crystal bowls beneath them. That, coupled with the sounds of their cries, creates a beautiful symphony of emotion to thrum within me. But none please me as much as the hoarse whimpers coming from the woman on the other end of the room.
The Blood Slave.
Licking my lips, I ignore the other women as well as Jasper’s urges for me to drink from them. The more blood I consume, the quicker I will heal, but the only taste I want in my mouth ishers. The little human’s eyes are round with fear the closer I approach, and the twisted darkness inside of me delights in her terror.
Once I’m positioned squarely between her thighs, Jasper backs away. The Blood Slave’s scent beckons me forward, and I brush my nose against her clit while inhaling. She smells like divinity, and for a small moment, I let myself go, awash in her perfection. But I quickly rein it in. I can never lose my head over a woman again—never.
The tiny creature trembles before me, as everyone should, but her fright mingles with something else. Curiosity. It amuses me that the little lamb is brave enough to see past her fear. Around her, the other women writhe in equal parts of ecstasy and agony, but the Blood Slave lacks their coyness. She isn’t trying to seduce me. Where others throw themselves at my feet, she would gladly run away.
But that will change.
With a wicked grin, I snake my tongue out to lick the inside of her parted legs. The Blood Slave shivers at the contact, turning her head from the monster before her. I tsk and nip at the tender flesh with my fangs until her head whips back to me. Even without words, I know she understands what I want—eyes on me.I won’t let her escape into the recesses of her mind.
For a small eternity, I tease her, watching the fire gather in her gaze. Beyond her fear is a seething rage, growing as I toy with her. Unlike the other women in Sintara, this one doesn’t want me to touch her, but she will soon learn her only job is to please her kings. And while I would normally see her fiery nature as loathsome, I find it entertaining.
It will make it so much more enjoyable when I finally break her.
As I lap at her core, a rush of desire surges through me. My cock springs to life, pulsing with need. Nearby, Jasper hums at the sight, but whether it’s from his happiness that I’m well enough to get hard or his own arousal, I don’t know. Unfortunately, I’m too weak to do anything about it and must choose between sating my thirst or my lust.
I choose the former, licking around the Blood Slave’s pussy, even though there’s no blood. My brother would never leave anything so precious. To get what I want, I must remove the gold finger that acts as a stopper, catching and holding the delicious red elixir these human females expel every month when the moon is full.
With gnarled hands, I pop the finger free, and instantly, a river of crimson floods out into my open mouth. My eyes flutter shut at the taste coating my tongue.
Perfection.
Only one other has ever tasted this good, but I shut down before my mind can go to her. I won’t think of Larissa while feeding from this nameless—meaningless—Blood Slave. Her essence might remind me of what happened a lifetime ago, but this fragile creature spread before me is a reminder of what can never happen again.
She mewls like a kitten every time my nose bumps her clit, and I want to tease her further, but I’m lost in the sensation of my body regenerating. I can feel my skin knit back together, the rot replaced by something far more sinister and powerful. Soon, I won’t look like a monster, but I’ll always be one.
Who knows how long I feast, growing stronger with every passing second, but when I finally pull back, my bloodlust no longer hammers in my skull like a death bell tolling. Instead, another hunger bombards my body—the lust from before. With the Blood Slave’s pussy glistening with my saliva, it’s easy to envision her wet from other things.
Namely her juices and mine.
But fucking the tiny female isn’t only foolish, it’s dangerous. There are hundreds of other women who can service me that don’t make me think of my past, whose lives would be inconsequential should I go too far. Snapping my fingers, Jasper comes over and I whisper in his ear what I want. He nods eagerly, always ready to do my bidding. He is truly the only one my brother and I can trust in our court.
He scurries off and returns shortly with a dark-skinned woman. The Blood Slave eyes her warily while I grin at her unease. Still seated in my wheelchair, it’s easy to take out my cock and seat the other woman atop me, her back pressed into my chest. She slides down, her hot cunt sheathing my cock as she bounces up and down along my length.
But I pay her no heed. Instead, my gaze is locked with the Blood Slave. Her eyes are wide, and beyond her fear, I scent what I’ve been waiting for—her arousal. Although she doesn’t want to be, she’s turned on by the sight of me fucking another before her very eyes. My smirk curls into something crueler, and she scowls.
There’s that fire.
For someone so timid, our Blood Slaves hides a bratty side that I can’t wait to punish out of her. But for now, I’ll have to be content fucking the other slave. She moans and pants, nearly bringing herself to climax, but she knows better than to come without permission. Sweat dots her brow as she tries to hold off, ensuring that I explode first, but I’m the master of my body.
