If only the waffles on her oval plate could whimper, it has long gone whining for her fork’s delicate touch.
Rozelyn can no longer manage to eat properly.
How could she when Cyrill kept on staring at her?
Or is he peering at her pristine rounded breasts?
Well, this was her plan anyway—to encaged Cyrill’s gaze within her figure only.
But now, she seems uncomfortable and agonizing.
‘For hell’s sake, what the hell is going on with me!’
Rozelyn’s internal screaming was bouncing at the walls of her mind.
Since the moment she opened her eyes this morning, her entire self was already surging with frenziness and venereal madness.
Hemera has already told her at the lavish gazebo that this party is for camaraderie and reunion.
Frankly, Rozelyn was somehow debating if Hemera’s context of reunion was the common definition, or was the wine-red-haired vampire referring to the carnal manner of reunion.
Either way, she privately mumbled that all of the people here would somehow be flooded with a great amount of ‘release’ sooner or later.
There is a great possibility that she’ll end up having a bare-skinned tango to any of them.
And she wished that her partner would be Cyrill.
‘Calm down Rozelyn! It’s just Cyrill, remember?’
She reminded herself slowly and keenly.
On the other hand, Avril already managed to stand from the table and went to his Luna, leaving only Cyrill and Rozelyn quietly preying on each other’s stare.
“Hello darling…” Avril then caressed Anaztasia before kissing her bare smooth and milky white shoulders.
Anaztasia, who’s wearing an off-shoulder sangria lace dress, looked at him and grimaced.
“You left the two again on their own?”
Avril shrugged his shoulders before giving his lover a wolfish smile.
“Why not? The anticipated disrobed tango will happen later anyway?”
His masculine rosewood and vanilla scent engulfed Ana’s nose for a heartbeat.
She leaned closer, as if her alpha was a natural magnet for women like her.
This made Avril more aroused and excited, as his lover gave him a gentle kiss on his right cheek before whispering at him.
“Care for a dance at my boudoir?”
And before anyone could blink, the alpha and the luna are already sauntering at Anaztasia’s private room.
***
It was heaven.
Anaztasia felt like she was descending at the abyss of eternal euphoria.
The black-out curtains are the only one that hinders anyone from witnessing their magnificent slow-paced dance.
He thrusted inside her in a missionary position. Her arms are freely situated above her head. Her maven lips are already wet due to Avril's repetitive kisses.
The two azure-colored cotton pillows are the only thing that elevates both her head and the lower part of her body.
The sweet moan of them serves as the only music guiding their every movement.
It was intricate and well-executed. As if the two have all the time in the world to savour this sensual convergence.
They are not in a rush. But they are not too slow either.
Swift but uplifting—that is how Anaztasia remark their private tango.
A few minutes later, they switched positions.
Anaztasia is the one dominating the dance this time.
Her movement was a rhythmic oscillation, as if she was just dancing a tango on the dance floor—with Avril’s sexy moan serving as the background music.
Her flawless complexion was covered with sweat and ‘release’. Her bare breasts shimmers by the tawny light of the bedside lamp, making Avril even more ferociously aroused.
She rocked harder and faster, as if she was mounting a Cadillac.
Anaztasia was definitely not guilty for choosing the man as her lover and partner for the party’s naked tango later on.
Avril caressed her nape before moving down to her waist.
He holds her hips firmly as he pounded solely this time.
And Anaztasia’s bawling—courtesy of the immense pleasure—escaped from her lovely mouth, before Avril silenced her with his intense French kiss.
***
“Will Hemera be somehow angry at us? I mean we're the first one to have bedded at eight in the morning and the orgy was supposed to be later at exactly noon,” Anaztasia asked Avril, who was obviously busy drilling her inside.
They’re currently on their second round of the tango. It took a few thrusts before the werewolf responded.
He was panting. Then, the two rose from their current position into a sitting posture. Their nakedness seemed to stare at each other while the two faced one another.
“Hemera is the one in charge of this year’s Housewarming. She already knew I was a carnal Alpha already. Aside from that, we do not engage in this activity just because we're thirsty. For the two of us, our love is much more the one that has been guiding us ever since, rather than just raw lust and sensual needs…”
Avril gave Anaztasia an unyielding erotic gaze. The female werewolf was somehow flabbergasted by the genuine reply of her lover.
‘Well, you have an exact point anyway. It doesn’t mean we’re a bloodsucking vampire, we no longer have a right to love. Everyone has a heart—either literally or figuratively. Even an earthworm has five hearts, how much more us who were cursed by the mighty Ambrosia.’
Anaztasia muttered to him telepathically.
Without further ado, they resumed their enticing coitus…until they reached the summit of their venereal mountain.
***
The place was filled with revelry and chattering of the attendees. Male and female vampires are in sexy bloody red beach outfits while the werewolves are in royal blue.
‘Ana and Avril have somehow disappeared into the thin air for three hours already…’
Cyrill Clarke thought while soaking in the crystal waters of the infinity pool.
His topless body glistens in the natural light of the sun, making Rozelyn even more passionately lunatic.
The bad news is, it’s not only Rozelyn seriously staring at him.
The Yorkshire and Elemental Vesta was also giving him repetitive glances.
‘Great! Now, I’m becoming a best-seller amongst the ladies here…’
Cyrill privately interjected within himself. His velvet-wrapped steel has gone outrageous again, as seen in the bump of his cycling shorts.
He just jolted away his body and pretended that he’s just relishing his pina colada beverage.
***
The shimmering colorless water seems to be empty if not for Cyrill’s masculine presence. Most people are already in their private cottages and cabana—partnered in two.
It was just half an hour ago when Hemera lit the red and blue candle, signalling the beginning of their anticipated immaculate disrobed tango.
The only two left in the pool are him and the raven-haired Rozelyn, who’s silently reading E. L. James’ Fifty Shades of Grey.
‘She’s really reading that under the mid-noon’s sun, huh?’
He thought as he took a spoon of lemon sorbet.
In a second, he accidentally spilled the melting dessert in his topless body—making it look like a woman’s juice as it slid down in his smoking hot body, down to the serpent hidden beneath his shorts.
Embarrassed, he felt a hardening sensation in his groin again—causing his red cheeks to be wholly visible.
As he looked at the other side of the pool, Rozelyn was no longer reading that sexually-suggestive novel.
A manicured hand then touched his bare back, causing him to abruptly turn around.
Her sparkling emerald green eyes, full of thirst and longing, beckon him—making Cyrill do what most gentlemen would wittingly do.