Chapte 166

Chapte 166
Aeron
Vlad's donor room is low-ceilinged and warm, lit only by a single iron chandelier dripping with black candles. Like every other room, this one is draped in velvet and tapestris. The air is thick with the scent of blood and beeswax. Vlad’s taste for the theatrical never disappoints.
Isla sits on the edge of the wide chaise, legs crossed, the silk robe the familiars supplies slipped down her shoulder. The human girl - twenty-something, dark-haired, eyes wide with that delicious mix of fear and lust - kneels between Isla’s thighs, throat bared, pulse fluttering like a trapped bird.
I lean against the doorframe, arms folded, and watch.
My bride is finding herself. Experimenting with who she is. And who am I to interfere with that?
Isla’s fangs extend slowly, deliberately. She brushes the girl’s hair back with surprising gentleness, then sinks in. The human gasps, body arching, fingers clutching Isla’s knees. A low moan escapes her lips as the pleasure venom hits her bloodstream. Isla instinctinvely used it for the first time.
My cock jumpst to attention, so hard that I can barely think. Or breathe. All I can do is see, and watch my bride as she seduces the human. Isla drinks in measured pulls, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed. She is beautiful like this - predatory and soft at once, the goddess and the girl intertwined.
When she’s had enough, she licks the punctures closed and pulls back. The girl sways, dazed, pupils blown.
Isla’s gaze finds mine across the room. There’s a spark there - mischief, need, something daring.
She smiles, slow and wicked.
“Come here,” she says to the girl, voice husky from the feed.
The human obeys without hesitation, crawling forward on the chaise until she’s straddling Isla’s lap. Isla cups her face, kisses her, soft at first, then deeper, letting the girl taste her own blood on Isla’s tongue. The human whimpers and melts into it.
Isla breaks the kiss and looks at me again.
“I want more,” she says and waves me over.
My blood heats instantly. This is new. Isla has never taken the lead like this, never invited another into our bed. But the way she says it - confident, utterly in control -makes it clear this is her game tonight.
I push off the doorframe and cross the room in three strides.
“Whatever my queen desires,” I murmur.
Isla’s smile widens. She guides the girl’s mouth to her neck again, but this time the human only kisses and licks, no bite. Isla’s hands slide under the girl’s thin dress, pushing it up and off in one smooth motion. Pale skin, small breasts, nipples already hard. The girl shivers as Isla’s fingers trace lazy circles around them.
I strip behind them, shirt and trousers discarded without ceremony. My cock is aching by the time I reach the chaise.
Isla looks over her shoulder at me, eyes dark with lust.
“On your back,” she orders me.
I obey, stretching out on the wide chaise. She pushes the girl forward until she’s straddling my hips, facing me. Isla settles behind her, hands sliding around to cup the girl’s breasts, thumbs teasing nipples while she kisses the back of her neck.
The human moans, grinding down against me instinctively. I grip her hips, guiding her until she sinks onto my cock in one slow, wet slide. She’s tight, hot, trembling. I groan, head falling back.
Isla leans over the girl’s shoulder, watching my face with possessive satisfaction.
“Feel him,” she whispers to the human. “All of him. He's fucking magnificent.”
She reaches down between the girl’s legs, fingers finding her clit and rubbing in tight circles while I thrust up slow and deep. The girl cries out, body clenching around me.
Isla kisses her - hard, demanding - before pulling back and meeting my eyes.
“Harder,” she commands me.
I obey. Grip tightening, hips snapping up, driving into the girl with deliberate force. She sobs with pleasure, head falling back against Isla’s shoulder.
Isla’s free hand slides between her own leg, I can hear how wet she is, smell her lust, drown in the soft sounds as she touches herself while watching me fuck the human she chose.
The sight nearly undoes me.
The girl comes first, body locking, crying out into Isla’s neck. I follow seconds later, spilling deep with a guttural groan.
Isla isn’t finished.
She pushes the dazed human aside gently, climbs over me, and sinks down onto my still-hard cock in one smooth motion. Her eyes never leave mine.
“This part,” she says, voice low and fierce, “is only us.”
She rides me slow and deliberate, hands braced on my chest, hips rolling in a rhythm that’s pure possession. The human watches from the side, touching herself lazily, but this moment belongs to us alone, the humand might as well not exist at all right now.
Isla leans down, lips brushing mine. “You’re still mine,” she whispers.
I flip us in one swift move, pinning her beneath me, driving into her hard enough to make the chaise creak.
The human moans softly. I can hear her pleasuring herself, smell the scent of her pussy, but she fades into the background.
For me at least.
“And you’re mine,” I growl back.
We come together, her name on my lips, mine on hers, the rest of the world forgotten.
When it’s over, the human curls up at the foot of the chaise, completely spent.
Isla nestles into my side, head on my chest.
“Thank you,” she murmurs. “For letting me choose.”
I kiss her hair.
“Anything you want, love. Always.”
The night stretches on outside, deep and endless, the way it should for creatures like us.
After what feels like hours, I gently push Isla aside and kindly thank the human, then ask her to leave. I haven't fed yet and right now I don't have such a big desire to feed from a living donor. A blood bag will do.
Except that Vladimir doesn't believe in them and doesn't have any.
I allowed Isla to control every move we made tonight, and instinctively I know I also have to let her do the next thing. "Will you find me a donor?" I ask. "I am hungry."
She nods, and still lazy, still half-asleep, gets up to pick someone.
It's a remarkable thing, watching someone find themselves.
I can't wait to see what Isla will do next.