by Liza James
Again, I haven’t come. Worked closer and closer to an orgasm without release. I can feel a wild storm of emotions and energy unsettling inside of my body and mind. Frustration, anger, the need for escape, desire, lust, tension.
I spread my fingers wide on the ground below, squeezing my eyes tightly shut as I try to calm the inner chaos. “You’re going to kill me,” I speak the words on a hushed whisper, unsure if I even want a response from her. I don’t think I do.
“You’re right,” she replies absently, as if it means nothing to her. I mean nothing to her.
God, I swear I’m experiencing whiplash. One second I think she feels something for me, for what she’s doing, for my blood. The next moment I’m harshly reminded that this is all just a process for her. I’m simply one of a dozen projects she’s had to break in order to take care of her sisters.
I’m a number. A blood bag. A meal.
Nothing of importance, and suddenly, dreadfully, my heart feels as though it cracks down the center. A flood of memories with K and Ruby and Rowan and my family come to drown my mind in excruciating pain.
I was supposed to write my own story here. I was supposed to create something of myself, show all of those people I don’t fucking need them or their validation.
How quickly that was stripped of me permanently.
Without warning, I feel Na’amah’s arms slip around my back and under my thighs. She lifts me easily, the frozen exterior she carries envelopes me in nothing comforting. Where I had been growing familiar to this chill, I now loathe it, and the ache settling in my skin and muscles no longer lights me on fire in lust, but extinguishes my curiosity.
I remain silent as she slowly steps us out of the room and into the hallway. Exhaustion overcomes me and I while I want to remain stiff and detached, I find my head falling against her shoulder as she walks us through the castle. I keep my hands tucked tightly between my thighs and my mind throbbing with a migraine that matches the discomfort of my flesh.
She doesn’t say a word, even when she finally reaches the common area and enters my personal bedroom. She simply walks me to my bed, lays me down against the soft mattress and turns on her heels. As she moves back toward my door, my heart hammers wildly and disappointment stings my eyes while I watch her departing frame.
“Tomorrow morning, you’ll arrive for meals with the other girls. Follow their lead, pay attention, they’ll show you how it is to be done. I will meet you there and we’ll continue training in the evening.” She instructs me without any tone of expectations or excitement. Of course not; the words are flat and monotone, a literal manuscript of verbiage meant to do nothing but educate me.
And then she shuts the door behind her without another word, leaving me in the darkness and pain of what my life has become.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
What do I need right now? Anything, fucking anything. I need to feed, I need to fuck, I need to taste her blood.
Her blood.
Skilla’s.
It’s magnetic. I try to play it off so easily as if she means nothing to me. Because she doesn’t—she can’t. She’s exactly like every other girl I’ve broken before. She fucking has to be.
But everything feels differently this time. Each caress she leaves on my skin, every mark I stain hers with. Shit, even the sound of her tiny breaths as she gasps and cries out when I touch her.
It’s as if every single aspect of her entire being was designed for me. And it’s only been what, 48 hours since I met her in that club? Two goddamn days and I’m already feeling this out of control? I should have never touched her like I did in her room, I shouldn’t of done it tonight when I caught her sneaking around the Throne Room either. Her punishments have nothing to do with sex at the moment, and yet that’s tied into the fucking air I breathe when I’m around her.
“Brielle,” I whisper the word knowing I shouldn’t succumb to this. But I can’t help it, I need to eat, because it’s the only logical reason I can explain the ways I’m so out of control with Skilla. I’m just hungry, that’s all. Brielle shouldn’t be the girl I go to, but as I shut the door to Skilla’s room behind me, my body is instantly drawn to Brielle.
I can feel how restless she is, it’s in her blood.
With each girl I train, I build a connection to. I’m in tune with their emotional state, their needs, I can sense their blood easily and when it comes to water, I can breach their thoughts for the most part.
I can’t read minds, not like Aggie. But water carries memory, and while my abilities lie in frost and ice, they are based in water. I can at least draw very specific, detailed intentions on thoughts and emotions.
For me, the connection I build with them is easily broken, quickly transferred to Lilith once she takes over in owning these girls. They all belong to her anyways, but I know Brielle has been her biggest struggle in finding a connection to. Because of this, her submissive tether hasn’t been fully transferred to Lilith yet.
I quietly step up to her door and knock, knowing full well she’s already awake and waiting for me. Turning the knob, I move inside, taking note of the lights being off and the silence in her space.
“I was hoping you’d come,” her soft voice whispers in the darkness, a plea of her pleasing nature woven into her tone. “I’ve missed you.”
I sigh, my heart sinking at her admission and yet my fangs drop at the familiarity of her near blood. “Brielle,” I reply, keeping my voice void of the commanding nature. I try not to step into that role immediately with her, reminding her that she no longer belongs to me.
“Please,” she begs, and the whimper in her voice raises every red flag inside of me. I shouldn’t be using her for this, I should choose someone else. But damn, she’s convenient, and I know how badly she wants this from me.
“You know we can’t do it like that,” I tell her, this time unable to hide the subtle tinge of authority in my words. I move closer to her and my eyes adjust immediately to the darkness, finding her exactly as I imagined she’d be.
On her knees, sitting back, her hands resting in her lap and her head tilted down so she isn’t looking at me.
Each one of them has a different variation of the same submissive pose. I change them slightly to fit each specific girl, in whichever way I feel is intimate to their nature.
Skilla keeps her hands laced behind her head because she needs to lose complete control in this environment. I have a feeling, when it comes to her step-brother, she is forced into a position of authority in ways she never wanted. The things he was making her say the night I found her, the ways he was forcing her touch him—being out of control will be the key to her submission.
Brielle is quiet as it is, but her attitude gets the best of her. If she’s cornered or feels like her territory is being stepped into—she snaps. A downward gaze and laced hands in her lap keeps her humble.
I crouch down in front of her, lifting my fingers to her chin and tilting her head up toward me. “Look at me,” I say, fully recognizing this is the second biggest mistake I’ve made tonight. “I need to feed.”
Her eyes widen with a sense of gratitude, I can feel it emanating from her frame. Her chest swells and she straightens her shoulders just a bit. “Always, Alca.” She immediately responds, tilting her head and lifting her hands to gather her long hair over one shoulder.
My eyes fall to the thick vein pulsing on the side of her throat. Fuck, she’s irresistible at this point. Her blood floods my senses like a drug. “Na’amah or Queen, remember? You cannot call me Alca any longer.” I try to remind her gently but fuck, the closer I am to her, the hungrier I become with her vein so readily available.
I need to slow down.
Gently, she sits up on her knees, leaning forward as the thin fabric of her camisole dips over her chest. My eyes fall to her round tits, swaying just slightly with the movement while her tight nipples peek through the light cotton. Her hands move to the back of my neck as she tugs me closer, and I try for a moment to slow u
s down in this way.
I just need to feed; we don’t have to fuck.
But I already know what The Bite elicits from humans. It’s such an intoxicating experience, one that completely enraptures every ounce of their identity. It’s addicting, the high you encounter as we taste their blood. My fangs sinking into her skin, the instant sharp pain flooded with a euphoric drug that makes her feel invincible.
Desired.
Wanted.
Transcendent.
You’re taken so wildly high, you never want to come down. Humans who do not carry celestial blood often die from the initial Bite, or become so addicted they get involved with the wrong Vampires and are sucked completely dry.
I lean in, my eyes focused on the sweet spot I’ve come to know she loves at the base of her throat. I lift my hand at first, sweeping my thumb along her soft creamy skin, imagining the initial pierce of my fangs when she gasps and grips me tightly. Then the flood of blood on my tongue. Fucking hot, sweet, with a lacing of individuality from Brielle herself. Each of them tastes slightly different, notes of their personalities woven into their DNA.
I hear her gasp as I brush my lips against her skin, aching deep inside to taste her blood and drink. It’s in my fucking bones, the desperation I have to feed right now. It’s like being around Skilla made me even hungrier, even more derailed mentally and physically than I usually am.
The craving need I have for blood draws me mentally toward Skilla though—she’s the one I want to indulge in right now.
But I’ll have to settle from this, and hopefully it quenches my thirst like I need it too.
My tongue slips out and across her heated flesh, moving over her collar bone as the onslaught of emotions and thoughts from Brielle whip through me. Sweat beads along her jaw line as she breathes in deeply, arching her back and pressing her chest against mine as my hands move over her body. One weaves into her hair, instinctually shifting her head and elongating her neck into a position that’s easiest for me to feed. The other grips her hip and pulls her onto my lap as I sit back on the floor of her room. She straddles my waist, her fingers shifting over the shaved sides of my head before slipping over the knotted portion of my hair.
She wants to pull it out, I already know. She’s tried to countless times before—but I never let her. I never let my hair down, it’s a piece of my vulnerability I’m unwilling to share with anyone. When it’s tied up, it’s a component of my armor, my walls. Pulled back tightly and secured on top of my head, it’s become an integral part of my appearance. I’m quick to grip her wrist and stop the action, and I don’t miss her disappointed sigh once I do it. The hunger inside of me grows restless, the beast in my blood awakening and impatient to be released.
She surrenders easily and I get the feeling that she’s settling just as I am. I’ll take what I can get from her, because I can’t get it from Skilla. And she’ll accept anything I’m willing to give, even though it’s not as much as she’d like. So, we dance along this line, toeing further and further while I distract myself with her blood, and she loses herself in my touch.
My hand slides up her spine, my fingers pressing into her hot skin and slipping under the thin nightgown she has on. I grip the fabric roughly, yanking it up her soft thighs and ass and pulling it over her head. I drop it to the ground, and she’s completely naked on top of me. Her long, golden hair has fallen around her shoulders, and I wrap it around my fist as I continue creating the most efficient space for me to feed. My nails scrape along her back and I feel her roll her hips against mine as she quickly begins unraveling.
I drag the tips of my fangs along her skin, tasting the salt and heat as it shifts to the surface. She’s absolutely soaked, I’m positive, and I can’t help but want to feel for myself as she grinds against me. So, I drop my hand for a quick moment, shifting it between us and sliding my knuckles through her pussy. My thumb slips up and over her clit for a moment, and the immediate moan falling from her lips is filled with relief and satisfaction.
She moves against my hand and I continue touching her, circling her clit and sliding down until I can push inside her tight pussy. She’s slick and needy, whimpering against the crease of my shoulder while she rolls into my touch. “No one touches me like you do,” she whispers against me, just as I slip inside and pull back out. Slow and deep, I move inside her, feeling her arousal slick my own fingers with every single thrust.
I fucking love it.
I’m eager to sink my fangs into her throat so I can feed and fuck her at the same time.
But her words trigger something inside of me as well, an alert I should be addressing in this moment instead of what I’m doing. I can’t stop this though, my own hunger and desire overriding my logical decisions tonight.
Her hands run over my chest, desperate to touch me more than she is in this moment. But I don’t allow anyone to fuck me, no one pleases me, no one undresses me. I am in control of every aspect of this, and it helps to break the bond once Lilith builds a true, emotional connection to them. Those relationships are reciprocal. They feed Lilith, but they make love in a far different way than I do.
Brielle wants more with me, and I will never give her what she truly needs.
“Slow down,” I tell her, pulling free of her cunt and gripping her wandering hands as they attempt lifting my shirt. “You know that’s not how this works.”
Her head falls to my shoulder in disappointment as I listen to her heavy breaths, her skin is flushed as my tongue presses against her vein. I thrive here, in this exact fucking moment, right before I give her the Bite, seconds before her blood floods my mouth and intoxicates me. I want to drown in these very instances, the anticipation is something else entirely, and I’m addicted to it just as much the blood itself.
I feel her tense, the knowing she has in feeling my fangs tempt her flesh. She can sense it coming, and her fingers tighten their hold as she wraps her arm around the back of my neck and readies herself.
It all happens in an instant, quick and immediate when my own grip roughly stills her movements and my other hand cinches her to me by tightly wrapping around her waist. I launch forward, my hunger finally breaking free and exploding within me. My fangs drop even farther, my tongue slipping across their tips just before I sink them into her throat.
She gasps, her hold digging into my flesh for the briefest moment before she completely falls apart in my arms. Her blood is thick and heady, filling my mouth while my tongue presses her vein to encourage the easy flow. I suck, hard and fast while my hands roam over her body and release her hair. She’s moaning against me, high on the euphoric elation The Bite brings. I move my hand back down to her slick pussy, sliding through her until I push two fingers inside.
She cries out, grinding her core against my hand while I pull out and thrust back inside her, slow at first, until I’m picking up the pace and drinking her essence at the same time.
These feeding sessions never last long, it’s a fine line I tread while I drink. I have to pay attention to the rhythm of her pulse, and slow down when I feel the slightest hesitancy in her heartbeat. But I’m dying to take more of her, and the slightest change in her blood when someone comes is a facet I look forward to. It isn’t necessary, but I’m fucking her anyway and I’d love to taste that burst of sweetness inside her.
So, I flip us forward and drop her to the ground below. I’m hovering over her, my fangs still locked in her vein as I swallow everything she’s offering me. Her legs spread wide beneath me, her back arching off the ground as her tits move against mine. Her nipples are hard, and I let my hand roll one between my fingers as I work her closer to a release.
She’s begging to come in my ear, her words muffled and slow as she speaks through the drunken haze. God, she’s almost there, and I notice the quick change her pulse a moment later. I pick up my pace on her core, fucking her hard and fast as I do the opposite with my thirst. I slow down my hold on her vein, savoring the flavor of her blood while coming to the end of my f
eed.
“Come for me, Brielle,” I pull out of her throat momentarily and speak the command immediately, knowing she’s still lingering in the submissive space with me. My thumb works over her clit, circling and pressing down while my fingers continue pumping inside her. But I pierce my fangs in her once again, knowing what' I’m about to taste and craving that last bit of sweetness.
The permission is all she needs to break completely. She falls apart, her nails digging into my arms and clinging tightly as she rides out the orgasm whipping through her. The explosion flares through her blood, singing and dancing on my tongue in a wild fusion of pleasure. I lap it up, drowning myself in the satisfaction of feeding and savoring every ounce of her.
Finally, I sit back just slightly, pulling my slick fingers from her core and lifting them to my mouth. I drag my thumb along the edge of my lip, sweeping across the stained crimson and bringing it to my tongue. I taste her in so many ways, in her cum and in her blood on my flesh. I savor the remnants of her on my fangs before they ascend back into my mouth, tucked away now that my hunger has been satiated.
Brielle remains on the ground; her eyes have slipped shut and a sweet smile lingers on her lips. I move forward, pulling her into my arms and lifting her onto her bed. She’s absolutely entranced with the Bite and I know she’ll sleep this off until morning. But as soon as her head hits the pillow, her hand darts for my own, pulling me closer as she quickly presses her lips against mine.
I’m caught off guard initially, because I don’t ever kiss the girls after they’ve bonded to Lilith and I use my hands to gently push her back. She resists at first, but the hazy high she’s riding overthrows her need to fight this in the moment. “Alca…” she whispers as her eyes drift shut and her hands fall beside her head.
My heart sinks, my gut twisting in guilt as I pull the heavy blanket up and over her frame. I know she’s cold, even with the heat of her arousal and the Bite. I can’t help it. I carry a chill with me in every touch that no doubt radiates through the physical brush of my hand against her skin.
