A nobleblood’s essence is more potent than a commonblood’s, which is evident by their renewed fervor. Once they’re done with each other and I pull my arm away, I lean back in my seat, presenting myself.
Slowly, their eyes rove from each other to the hard column throbbing before their eyes. They lunge in unison like pack animals, feral after drinking from me. Sephania’s jaw pries apart to take my bulbous cockhead and Garroway laves his tongue across my heavy balls and the underside of my shaft. Together, they join their spit with my blood on their lips, wetting my length and preparing me for more enjoyment. They succumb to the orgiastic affair even though they are spent and aching.
The sounds of their soft, urgent ministrations carry through the study. I put my chin on my fist, staring down lazily as the duo pleasures me. It takes everything to hold back from the sweetness of their lips and beauty.
Alas, holding back is a lost cause. Their reinvigoration twists my mind with dark, lustful thoughts, and I know we won’t get anything productive done until my beasts are satiated.
With a pleased sigh, I stand from the chair, bringing them up to kneeling positions with me. “I suppose it can’t be helped, can it? Bare yourselves to me.”
Some time later, we’ve wasted half the evening frolicking in the study room and I’ve plastered Garroway and Sephania with enough cum and bliss to satiate them until dawn. It’s a vicious cycle: They’re panting again and I know they want more blood. This time, I won’t give it to them. “I’m going to draw you both a bath,” I say. “You need it.”
A line forms between Sephania’s smooth brow. “You are?”
Stuffing myself into my pants, heading for the door, I tilt my head and frown at her. “Well, an acolyte is. I’ll be overseeing.” I wag a stern finger at them both. “No fucking in the bath. We have work to do.”
I make the arrangements for three servants to bring heated water to the marble clawfoot tub on the second level of the manor. Then I call a messenger—another mute white-robe who does my errands—into one of the many conference rooms.
“Well?” I ask when the man shuffles in, his eyes darting with fear. I hold my hand out, not expecting a verbal response, of course.
The man taps his fingers onto my palm, drawing them in quick lines across my flesh. Once he’s finished hand-speaking, I nod. “Good, we have some time yet. Sixteen guests, you say?”
The mute nods fervently.
“Then you’d best get to work whipping up a late supper, eh?”
He hurries out, more worried than when he came in. Before he reaches the door, I call out, “Wait.” He pauses, turns. I smile smugly at him. “Go into the cellar and break out the Lusher brand from my stores. I’ll want our guests comfortable and relaxed for what I have to tell them.”
The Lusher brand is a pleasant vintage of aged blood I bottled up decades ago, named after the family who provided the extract. Their blood came to me unwillingly, and I may or may not have had everything to do with the family’s death.
They were a sweet-drinking lot, the Lushers. I’m not sure what the family’s actual surname was. I never bothered to learn.At least they’re providing me with something sweet, making them useful even decades after their demise.
That is the true legacy of many unfortunate, lowborn vampires in Olhav: donors to the deserved noblebloods like me.
I visit Sephania and Garroway in the wash chamber upstairs an hour later. In the ballroom below, the manor groans and rustles from servants hurrying to gather tables, making things look acceptable for what I have planned.
To my delight—and secret disappointment—my lovelorn beauties havenotbeen fucking in the bath. I’m happy about their obedience and annoyed they didn’t defy me.
Their bodies glisten with warm water, steam billowing as I enter the room. They’re half-submerged, and my eyes shamefully find Sephania’s heavy pale breasts before anything else, lurking just above the surface of the bubbly water. She sinks down a fraction to hide her tight pink nipples underwater, and frowns at me.
“Hiding from me now, little temptress?”
She wraps her arm across her chest to shield herself. “You didn’t want any shenanigans. That includes with you, Skar.”
“For shame,” I mumble, perching against the wall, crossing my arms to watch them. Garro reclines on the other side of the massive tub, with the water up to his chin and his head rolled back to stare blankly up at the peaked ceiling. I briefly wonder if I’ve broken the cub.
“I feel like I’m in a haze,” Sephania says, clearly for both of them since my cub looks nearly comatose. “Is your blood really so powerful?”
“The blood, the shadows, the sex—who can say for sure?”
Garroway clears his throat. “If I had to guess, some combination of the three.”
“Ah, the graybird lives.” I push off the wall. “Good. You are both needed soon.”
My thrall lowers his eyes from the ceiling, falling on me. Sephania gains a suspicious countenance.
“I called court,” I explain, “last night when you two did not show.” At Seph’s skeptic look, I wave vaguely in the air. “Thesethings typically take an evening to pan out. My subjects come from all the corners of Olhav.”
She tilts her head. “So you didn’t even need us last night? Why get angry with us for being late?”
