Chapter 78: 78
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The first prick of pain as his fangs slide sensuously into me is overwhelmed by the pleasure that surges through my body, consuming my whole being in the hot flush of arousal. Soren hadn't lied about what a vampires bite can do- I have never felt so good in my life. In one singular second my world has been turned upside down by the tyrant prince of the vampires, my mind overrun with one unprecedented thought: more.
A shudder runs through the Scarlet as my blood spills onto his tongue, his body thrusting into mine in perfect synchronisation with each gulp of blood he draws from my veins. The soft wet sounds of his cock plunging further, deeper into my wet pussy only serve to arouse me further, and it would seem Soren feels the same as he lifts his bloodied lips from my breasts and whispers:
"Fuck,"
And just like that my body explodes around him. Cum leaks from my pussy as I continue riding him through my orgasm, my head tipped back in ecstasy, moans so loud that half the palace might have heard my pleasure. But I don't care now. Nothing matters anymore, nothing except Soren.
"Nghhh, I don't know which is better, your fangs or your cock," I moan softly. Soren's eyes twinkle, and he reaches up a hand to draw my face down to his, pressing his lips tenderly against my skin despite the passion of his thrusts. My mouth fills with the taste of my own blood.
"Is that you or the chemicals speaking?" he laughs softly, his voice a husky growl that sends a fresh wave of tremors down my spine. It is almost as if there is nothing he can't do that would trigger my arousal.
I swoon into him, deepening our kiss with a pleasurable moan.
"Both," comes my murmured reply against his lips, groaning a little when Soren's tongue flickers over my lower lip. And then he breaks away, surveying me through lust filled eyes, as if deciding where exactly he should move to next, what part of my body he would so delight in pleasuring. I squirm under his gaze. The red in his eyes darken correspondingly.
"Soren…" I sigh breathily, arching my body towards him out of instinctive anticipation. He raises an eyebrow mockingly.
"What is it, little dove? What do you want?" he asks, a cruel grin growing on his face as he reaches out a hand to stroke down the side of my cheek, face contorted in fake sympathy as he slows his thrusts inside me, leaving me aching for more. I squirm again, drowning in sensations.
"You know what I want," I pout, trailing my finger over the wintry skin of his chest morosely. Soren's smirk widens.
"Oh yes, I know," he affirms, pausing for a moment to place a tap on my chest, over my heart. "Your desires are as clear as day, but I want to hear you say them."
A moment's hesitation, then:
"I want you to bite me again, bite me and pound into me until I am moaning your name," I whisper, my breath bated, as if fearing he might decline, the vulgar words slipping from my mouth as smoothly as rain slides down a window pain. The chemicals have surely taken a hold of my brain, but I find as Soren begins thrusting deep inside me again, filling my body up with the sizeable length of him, I do not care one bit.
"Now that wasn't so hard, was it, little dove?" he coos, snaking one hand down my body to the junction of our bodies to circle my clit, the other to tilt my head to the side, allowing his lips to rest on the tender skin of my neck. His fingers begin to circle, causing me to buck my hips as pleasure overwhelms my senses and floods my nerves.
"I thought you said you only bit the neck of your prey," I tease, unwilling to admit the anticipation brewing inside me at the thought of his bite, and the pleasure it would bring. Soren pauses an inch before my neck, his hot breath dissipating over my skin.
"Don't worry, little dove, by the time I am finished with you, there won't be a scrap of your beautiful body left untouched, neck included. But I think you might like this as much as I am going to," he muses, and without a second thought his fangs puncture my neck, and my body melts into his in sheer ecstasy as he laps up the blood from my veins, and then draws his fangs out to flick his tongue over the puncture marks, sealing them back over. I shudder uncontrollably.
"Keep that up and there won't be any blood left in me," I tease, throwing my head back as his cock penetrates particularly deep inside of me, throwing my body into a twitching mess of pleasure as my juices begin to seep down my thighs, spilling out of my body. I groan his name. Soren, in the classically vampiric, devilish way that he often does, only chuckles and tilts my head towards him, capturing my lips with his with a tender and slightly surprising softness.
"Then," he breathes, pulling away to trail his lips to a particularly tender spot on my neck, flicking his tongue over the skin, pupils wide, lust filled, his face flushed with fresh blood to the point that under the darkened light of the room, for the brevity of little more than a second, he looks almost mortal. "I suppose I will have to be extra careful, won't I?"
***
The next morning I stumble back to my room, back to Ithuriel, as quickly as my drugged mind will let me. My body craves to go back to Soren's room- the place where I spent the remainder of my night, and sink back into that devilish bliss and ecstasy of having Soren's fangs buried into my skin, or his hands roaming over me and his body pounding into mine. All these things seem so much more inviting than the cold room I am inevitably going to face- as well as the onslaught of questions from Ithuriel, but logic (the greater of my two judgements) refuses to bend it's sullen will.
Yawning and bleary eyed, I bundle myself into the room, and am about to exclaim my welcome to Ithuriel, only to find him curled up on an armchair beside the fire, Soren's diary splayed over his lap, the letter neatly folded and placed on the coffee table beside him.
I immediately quieten myself. Letting out a slow and contented breath, I fetch a blanket from the adjacent bedroom and sling it over Ithuriel's sleeping form, tucking it under his chin to keep out the bitter cold.
I smile to myself. He looks so peaceful when he is sleeping- his face smooth, soft, no longer creased with the hard lines of worry that set deep into his face throughout the day. Gone is that discontented frown and the shifting notion of brotherly concern that flits across his face and catches in the depths of his eyes like a meteor as it crosses the sky, replaced by only a tranquil calm and a low, rumbling hum. Perhaps it is better this way.
It is hard to ignore the aching longing in my chest as I change into my new attire, a simple blouse and trousers that sufficiently cover all the new bite marks covering my body, nothing too fanciful on a day like today- the day I am going to find Fangorn. I sheath my trusty sword at my hip, and begin to fix myself breakfast from the supplies in the cabinets- supplies which over the past few weeks have become dangerously low. Sooner or later I am going to have to be attending the banquets in the dining hall, or stealing food from the kitchen, neither of which sound particularly preferable to me. The only way I see it ending is with an angry mob of vampires and a dead body. And that dead body surely won't be mine.
"Serena?" groans Ithuriel from behind me, and I whip round, just in time to see Ithuriel raise his head from under the blanket, drawing himself inward against the icy cold of the room as he looks around blankly for me, scanning the room through half closed eyes.
"I'm here, don't worry," I laugh lightly, grabbing the bread I have acquired from the cabinets and bring myself round to him, allowing myself to recline back against the wall next to the fireplace, soaking in the much needed warmth- though from a night of passion, I hardly need it. The aching in my body pursues. I find myself barely even acknowledging my disappointment at the staleness of the bread over the constant nagging in the back of my head, throbbing in unison with the bite marks adorned all over my body like the jewels encrusted on a crown. Soren was right. I am addicted- but not just to his bite, no, to him.
In light of recent events, I should have really seen it coming.
Ithuriel, bleak and bleary eyed, takes one look at my attire and immediately realises what is going on.
"You are leaving? Without me?" he asks, crestfallen. I purse my lips, handing him over a piece of bread and a cup of jasmine tea, which he cups gratefully in his hands, warming them against the cold.
"Time is running out, Ithuriel, I have less than two weeks now before Soren…" I trail off, swallowing down my apprehension. Ithuriel takes a long, thoughtful sip of his tea, finishing the sentence I have neither the strength nor the will to finish.
"Before Soren holds the mating ritual, yes."
Nervously, I finish off gnawing the last stale crumbs of my bread.
I hadn't given it much thought after Azrael had so brazenly announced it the other day. Perhaps my mind had decided to shut out the idea, or maybe I had simply been too distracted to give it enough thought, but either way my fate is inevitable. I am to be married to the Scarlet Prince by the end of the month- less than two weeks time, flame found or not. After that, it would be impossible to deliver the flame back to my people- I would never be allowed to cross their borders again. The council would kill me if I tried.
I chew on my lip absently, fighting back the overwhelming amount of possibilities that could go wrong with my plan, and what the council would do if they found out.
Or perhaps they have already found out their Queen is a traitor.
Perhaps, they already want me dead.
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The first prick of pain as his fangs slide sensuously into me is overwhelmed by the pleasure that surges through my body, consuming my whole being in the hot flush of arousal. Soren hadn't lied about what a vampires bite can do- I have never felt so good in my life. In one singular second my world has been turned upside down by the tyrant prince of the vampires, my mind overrun with one unprecedented thought: more.
A shudder runs through the Scarlet as my blood spills onto his tongue, his body thrusting into mine in perfect synchronisation with each gulp of blood he draws from my veins. The soft wet sounds of his cock plunging further, deeper into my wet pussy only serve to arouse me further, and it would seem Soren feels the same as he lifts his bloodied lips from my breasts and whispers:
"Fuck,"
And just like that my body explodes around him. Cum leaks from my pussy as I continue riding him through my orgasm, my head tipped back in ecstasy, moans so loud that half the palace might have heard my pleasure. But I don't care now. Nothing matters anymore, nothing except Soren.
"Nghhh, I don't know which is better, your fangs or your cock," I moan softly. Soren's eyes twinkle, and he reaches up a hand to draw my face down to his, pressing his lips tenderly against my skin despite the passion of his thrusts. My mouth fills with the taste of my own blood.
"Is that you or the chemicals speaking?" he laughs softly, his voice a husky growl that sends a fresh wave of tremors down my spine. It is almost as if there is nothing he can't do that would trigger my arousal.
I swoon into him, deepening our kiss with a pleasurable moan.
"Both," comes my murmured reply against his lips, groaning a little when Soren's tongue flickers over my lower lip. And then he breaks away, surveying me through lust filled eyes, as if deciding where exactly he should move to next, what part of my body he would so delight in pleasuring. I squirm under his gaze. The red in his eyes darken correspondingly.
"Soren…" I sigh breathily, arching my body towards him out of instinctive anticipation. He raises an eyebrow mockingly.
"What is it, little dove? What do you want?" he asks, a cruel grin growing on his face as he reaches out a hand to stroke down the side of my cheek, face contorted in fake sympathy as he slows his thrusts inside me, leaving me aching for more. I squirm again, drowning in sensations.
"You know what I want," I pout, trailing my finger over the wintry skin of his chest morosely. Soren's smirk widens.
"Oh yes, I know," he affirms, pausing for a moment to place a tap on my chest, over my heart. "Your desires are as clear as day, but I want to hear you say them."
A moment's hesitation, then:
"I want you to bite me again, bite me and pound into me until I am moaning your name," I whisper, my breath bated, as if fearing he might decline, the vulgar words slipping from my mouth as smoothly as rain slides down a window pain. The chemicals have surely taken a hold of my brain, but I find as Soren begins thrusting deep inside me again, filling my body up with the sizeable length of him, I do not care one bit.
"Now that wasn't so hard, was it, little dove?" he coos, snaking one hand down my body to the junction of our bodies to circle my clit, the other to tilt my head to the side, allowing his lips to rest on the tender skin of my neck. His fingers begin to circle, causing me to buck my hips as pleasure overwhelms my senses and floods my nerves.
"I thought you said you only bit the neck of your prey," I tease, unwilling to admit the anticipation brewing inside me at the thought of his bite, and the pleasure it would bring. Soren pauses an inch before my neck, his hot breath dissipating over my skin.
"Don't worry, little dove, by the time I am finished with you, there won't be a scrap of your beautiful body left untouched, neck included. But I think you might like this as much as I am going to," he muses, and without a second thought his fangs puncture my neck, and my body melts into his in sheer ecstasy as he laps up the blood from my veins, and then draws his fangs out to flick his tongue over the puncture marks, sealing them back over. I shudder uncontrollably.
"Keep that up and there won't be any blood left in me," I tease, throwing my head back as his cock penetrates particularly deep inside of me, throwing my body into a twitching mess of pleasure as my juices begin to seep down my thighs, spilling out of my body. I groan his name. Soren, in the classically vampiric, devilish way that he often does, only chuckles and tilts my head towards him, capturing my lips with his with a tender and slightly surprising softness.
"Then," he breathes, pulling away to trail his lips to a particularly tender spot on my neck, flicking his tongue over the skin, pupils wide, lust filled, his face flushed with fresh blood to the point that under the darkened light of the room, for the brevity of little more than a second, he looks almost mortal. "I suppose I will have to be extra careful, won't I?"
***
The next morning I stumble back to my room, back to Ithuriel, as quickly as my drugged mind will let me. My body craves to go back to Soren's room- the place where I spent the remainder of my night, and sink back into that devilish bliss and ecstasy of having Soren's fangs buried into my skin, or his hands roaming over me and his body pounding into mine. All these things seem so much more inviting than the cold room I am inevitably going to face- as well as the onslaught of questions from Ithuriel, but logic (the greater of my two judgements) refuses to bend it's sullen will.
Yawning and bleary eyed, I bundle myself into the room, and am about to exclaim my welcome to Ithuriel, only to find him curled up on an armchair beside the fire, Soren's diary splayed over his lap, the letter neatly folded and placed on the coffee table beside him.
I immediately quieten myself. Letting out a slow and contented breath, I fetch a blanket from the adjacent bedroom and sling it over Ithuriel's sleeping form, tucking it under his chin to keep out the bitter cold.
I smile to myself. He looks so peaceful when he is sleeping- his face smooth, soft, no longer creased with the hard lines of worry that set deep into his face throughout the day. Gone is that discontented frown and the shifting notion of brotherly concern that flits across his face and catches in the depths of his eyes like a meteor as it crosses the sky, replaced by only a tranquil calm and a low, rumbling hum. Perhaps it is better this way.
It is hard to ignore the aching longing in my chest as I change into my new attire, a simple blouse and trousers that sufficiently cover all the new bite marks covering my body, nothing too fanciful on a day like today- the day I am going to find Fangorn. I sheath my trusty sword at my hip, and begin to fix myself breakfast from the supplies in the cabinets- supplies which over the past few weeks have become dangerously low. Sooner or later I am going to have to be attending the banquets in the dining hall, or stealing food from the kitchen, neither of which sound particularly preferable to me. The only way I see it ending is with an angry mob of vampires and a dead body. And that dead body surely won't be mine.
"Serena?" groans Ithuriel from behind me, and I whip round, just in time to see Ithuriel raise his head from under the blanket, drawing himself inward against the icy cold of the room as he looks around blankly for me, scanning the room through half closed eyes.
"I'm here, don't worry," I laugh lightly, grabbing the bread I have acquired from the cabinets and bring myself round to him, allowing myself to recline back against the wall next to the fireplace, soaking in the much needed warmth- though from a night of passion, I hardly need it. The aching in my body pursues. I find myself barely even acknowledging my disappointment at the staleness of the bread over the constant nagging in the back of my head, throbbing in unison with the bite marks adorned all over my body like the jewels encrusted on a crown. Soren was right. I am addicted- but not just to his bite, no, to him.
In light of recent events, I should have really seen it coming.
Ithuriel, bleak and bleary eyed, takes one look at my attire and immediately realises what is going on.
"You are leaving? Without me?" he asks, crestfallen. I purse my lips, handing him over a piece of bread and a cup of jasmine tea, which he cups gratefully in his hands, warming them against the cold.
"Time is running out, Ithuriel, I have less than two weeks now before Soren…" I trail off, swallowing down my apprehension. Ithuriel takes a long, thoughtful sip of his tea, finishing the sentence I have neither the strength nor the will to finish.
"Before Soren holds the mating ritual, yes."
Nervously, I finish off gnawing the last stale crumbs of my bread.
I hadn't given it much thought after Azrael had so brazenly announced it the other day. Perhaps my mind had decided to shut out the idea, or maybe I had simply been too distracted to give it enough thought, but either way my fate is inevitable. I am to be married to the Scarlet Prince by the end of the month- less than two weeks time, flame found or not. After that, it would be impossible to deliver the flame back to my people- I would never be allowed to cross their borders again. The council would kill me if I tried.
I chew on my lip absently, fighting back the overwhelming amount of possibilities that could go wrong with my plan, and what the council would do if they found out.
Or perhaps they have already found out their Queen is a traitor.
Perhaps, they already want me dead.
The first prick of pain as his fangs slide sensuously into me is overwhelmed by the pleasure that surges through my body, consuming my whole being in the hot flush of arousal. Soren hadn't lied about what a vampires bite can do- I have never felt so good in my life. In one singular second my world has been turned upside down by the tyrant prince of the vampires, my mind overrun with one unprecedented thought: more.A shudder runs through the Scarlet as my blood spills onto his tongue, his body thrusting into mine in perfect synchronisation with each gulp of blood he draws from my veins. The soft wet sounds of his cock plunging further, deeper into my wet pussy only serve to arouse me further, and it would seem Soren feels the same as he lifts his bloodied lips from my breasts and whispers:"Fuck,"And just like that my body explodes around him. Cum leaks from my pussy as I continue riding him through my orgasm, my head tipped back in ecstasy, moans so loud that half the palace might have heard my pleasure. But I don't care now. Nothing matters anymore, nothing except Soren."Nghhh, I don't know which is better, your fangs or your cock," I moan softly. Soren's eyes twinkle, and he reaches up a hand to draw my face down to his, pressing his lips tenderly against my skin despite the passion of his thrusts. My mouth fills with the taste of my own blood."Is that you or the chemicals speaking?" he laughs softly, his voice a husky growl that sends a fresh wave of tremors down my spine. It is almost as if there is nothing he can't do that would trigger my arousal. I swoon into him, deepening our kiss with a pleasurable moan."Both," comes my murmured reply against his lips, groaning a little when Soren's tongue flickers over my lower lip. And then he breaks away, surveying me through lust filled eyes, as if deciding where exactly he should move to next, what part of my body he would so delight in pleasuring. I squirm under his gaze. The red in his eyes darken correspondingly."Soren" I sigh breathily, arching my body towards him out of instinctive anticipation. He raises an eyebrow mockingly."What is it, little dove? What do you want?" he asks, a cruel grin growing on his face as he reaches out a hand to stroke down the side of my cheek, face contorted in fake sympathy as he slows his thrusts inside me, leaving me aching for more. I squirm again, drowning in sensations. "You know what I want," I pout, trailing my finger over the wintry skin of his chest morosely. Soren's smirk widens."Oh yes, I know," he affirms, pausing for a moment to place a tap on my chest, over my heart. "Your desires are as clear as day, but I want to hear you say them."A moment's hesitation, then:"I want you to bite me again, bite me and pound into me until I am moaning your name," I whisper, my breath bated, as if fearing he might decline, the vulgar words slipping from my mouth as smoothly as rain slides down a window pain. The chemicals have surely taken a hold of my brain, but I find as Soren begins thrusting deep inside me again, filling my body up with the sizeable length of him, I do not care one bit."Now that wasn't so hard, was it, little dove?" he coos, snaking one hand down my body to the junction of our bodies to circle my clit, the other to tilt my head to the side, allowing his lips to rest on the tender skin of my neck. His fingers begin to circle, causing me to buck my hips as pleasure overwhelms my senses and floods my nerves."I thought you said you only bit the neck of your prey," I tease, unwilling to admit the anticipation brewing inside me at the thought of his bite, and the pleasure it would bring. Soren pauses an inch before my neck, his hot breath dissipating over my skin."Don't worry, little dove, by the time I am finished with you, there won't be a scrap of your beautiful body left untouched, neck included. But I think you might like this as much as I am going to," he muses, and without a second thought his fangs puncture my neck, and my body melts into his in sheer ecstasy as he laps up the blood from my veins, and then draws his fangs out to flick his tongue over the puncture marks, sealing them back over. I shudder uncontrollably. "Keep that up and there won't be any blood left in me," I tease, throwing my head back as his cock penetrates particularly deep inside of me, throwing my body into a twitching mess of pleasure as my juices begin to seep down my thighs, spilling out of my body. I groan his name. Soren, in the classically vampiric, devilish way that he often does, only chuckles and tilts my head towards him, capturing my lips with his with a tender and slightly surprising softness."Then," he breathes, pulling away to trail his lips to a particularly tender spot on my neck, flicking his tongue over the skin, pupils wide, lust filled, his face flushed with fresh blood to the point that under the darkened light of the room, for the brevity of little more than a second, he looks almost mortal. "I suppose I will have to be extra careful, won't I?"***The next morning I stumble back to my room, back to Ithuriel, as quickly as my drugged mind will let me. My body craves to go back to Soren's room- the place where I spent the remainder of my night, and sink back into that devilish bliss and ecstasy of having Soren's fangs buried into my skin, or his hands roaming over me and his body pounding into mine. All these things seem so much more inviting than the cold room I am inevitably going to face- as well as the onslaught of questions from Ithuriel, but logic the greater of my two judgements refuses to bend it's sullen will.Yawning and bleary eyed, I bundle myself into the room, and am about to exclaim my welcome to Ithuriel, only to find him curled up on an armchair beside the fire, Soren's diary splayed over his lap, the letter neatly folded and placed on the coffee table beside him.I immediately quieten myself. Letting out a slow and contented breath, I fetch a blanket from the adjacent bedroom and sling it over Ithuriel's sleeping form, tucking it under his chin to keep out the bitter cold.I smile to myself. He looks so peaceful when he is sleeping- his face smooth, soft, no longer creased with the hard lines of worry that set deep into his face throughout the day. Gone is that discontented frown and the shifting notion of brotherly concern that flits across his face and catches in the depths of his eyes like a meteor as it crosses the sky, replaced by only a tranquil calm and a low, rumbling hum. Perhaps it is better this way.It is hard to ignore the aching longing in my chest as I change into my new attire, a simple blouse and trousers that sufficiently cover all the new bite marks covering my body, nothing too fanciful on a day like today- the day I am going to find Fangorn. I sheath my trusty sword at my hip, and begin to fix myself breakfast from the supplies in the cabinets- supplies which over the past few weeks have become dangerously low. Sooner or later I am going to have to be attending the banquets in the dining hall, or stealing food from the kitchen, neither of which sound particularly preferable to me. The only way I see it ending is with an angry mob of vampires and a dead body. And that dead body surely won't be mine."Serena?" groans Ithuriel from behind me, and I whip round, just in time to see Ithuriel raise his head from under the blanket, drawing himself inward against the icy cold of the room as he looks around blankly for me, scanning the room through half closed eyes."I'm here, don't worry," I laugh lightly, grabbing the bread I have acquired from the cabinets and bring myself round to him, allowing myself to recline back against the wall next to the fireplace, soaking in the much needed warmth- though from a night of passion, I hardly need it. The aching in my body pursues. I find myself barely even acknowledging my disappointment at the staleness of the bread over the constant nagging in the back of my head, throbbing in unison with the bite marks adorned all over my body like the jewels encrusted on a crown. Soren was right. I am addicted- but not just to his bite, no, to him.In light of recent events, I should have really seen it coming. Ithuriel, bleak and bleary eyed, takes one look at my attire and immediately realises what is going on."You are leaving? Without me?" he asks, crestfallen. I purse my lips, handing him over a piece of bread and a cup of jasmine tea, which he cups gratefully in his hands, warming them against the cold."Time is running out, Ithuriel, I have less than two weeks now before Soren" I trail off, swallowing down my apprehension. Ithuriel takes a long, thoughtful sip of his tea, finishing the sentence I have neither the strength nor the will to finish."Before Soren holds the mating ritual, yes."Nervously, I finish off gnawing the last stale crumbs of my bread.I hadn't given it much thought after Azrael had so brazenly announced it the other day. Perhaps my mind had decided to shut out the idea, or maybe I had simply been too distracted to give it enough thought, but either way my fate is inevitable. I am to be married to the Scarlet Prince by the end of the month- less than two weeks time, flame found or not. After that, it would be impossible to deliver the flame back to my people- I would never be allowed to cross their borders again. The council would kill me if I tried. I chew on my lip absently, fighting back the overwhelming amount of possibilities that could go wrong with my plan, and what the council would do if they found out.Or perhaps they have already found out their Queen is a traitor.Perhaps, they already want me dead.
