Oycher (25 page)

“Uhm,” she moaned, parting her legs further, wanting to be alone with her males without an audience looking on.

“They must be here until you transform to Volos’ declaration,” he whispered between kisses, reading her thoughts. He trailed his protracted claws over her breasts, gliding through the oil. She arched her back, breathing harshly. Terje flipped her stomach down, flat on the dais, the oil and glossy stone stroking her oversensitive skin. Oycher brought his cock to her lips again and she greedily sucked it, tasting the salty musk that was her male. Terje rubbed oil up the backs of her thighs, trailing over her buttocks. Then he reached inside her dark crevice with his fingers, parting her to his gaze, and threaded one straight through her anus.

“Oh,” she gasped around Oycher’s cock, licking the underside of his head as her anal intrusion continued with the addition of another finger.

Oycher slid from her mouth. Terje circled her puckered opening, pushed her to her knees, and slowly spread her anus with the length of a cool phallus. The sensation far different from the vibrator Oycher had used on her — this one was larger, so thick and long inside of her. Isla figured it was nearly the size of his cock. It took her a minute to adjust to the sensation, to relax around it.

“Breathe,” Oycher said roughly. “It’s no bigger than I am. And you look beautiful on your knees, gripping it with your clenched ass.”

But her pussy felt empty, the rippling of her walls starting as Oycher’s hot stare stayed between her legs, and his hand slowly worked up and down his length. Terje pressed his chest to her back and leaned over her, his hand slowly twisted the phallus, working it around. His opposite hand slid into the oil, going down her stomach until he reached her clitoris. He strummed it with deft fingertips, giving it no other choice but to swell and protrude. He stopped circling the phallus and moved it in and out, incremental movements. A half inch at first, before he drew down slowly, slowly, slowly, and moved up faster, faster, and faster. Right when she neared her orgasm, Terje stilled the phallus.

“I hate it when you do that,” she gasped, balling up her fists.

“Hush.” Oycher’s fingers found her oil-glazed nipples and pinched them between the backs of his claws. He dipped his head and flicked her nipples with his tongue, gliding his fangs back and forth to coax them to stand at attention. Latching onto one, he sucked the pink bud forcefully and bit down. When she screamed his name, he had the opposite nipple in his mouth, doing the same in vampiric speed. Terje resumed sliding the phallus in and out.

She came so roughly that Isla thought her spine would break from her internal detonation. “Argh!” Glittering dots pricked the backs of her eyelids, as they became heavy and lowered sleepily…dazed…sated.

“Dammit to hell,” Terje said from behind her. “She’s clamped down on the dildo.” He cupped her beneath her ass, lifting slightly, and licked all around her anus where the dildo was lodged. “You should see how she’s straining around this, Oycher. I can’t wait to claim her ass.”

“Mmm,” Oycher agreed. “She's slathered the dais.” He licked her mouth leisurely, nipping the corners of her lips, watching as she rode out her aftershocks.

“So beautiful and completely ours,” Terje said, his tone soothing while he rubbed her stomach with his big hands.

Her vampire groom repeated the expression he’d said earlier, from inside the infirmary, “Krv z mojej krvi sme sa vzali na vecnost.” The words flowed over her skin like warm honey and cream, coating her. “My blood for your blood,” he translated a portion, “say it.”

“My blood for your blood,” she echoed, and something shifted inside her.

“I smell your sex and blood.” He blinked slowly, his eyes moving up and down her possessively. “You fed me upstairs. You will drink from me here. My blood for your blood, we will complete the exchange. Right now.”

Oycher moved in front of her, slashing his throat with a single claw. Blood rushed from the wound, flowing over the dips and planes of his muscular chest. He pressed her face against the velvety skin at his throat, encouraging her to drink. “Do this for us,” he pleaded.

But she didn’t want to drink. Her body repelled by the thought of feeding on blood, Isla waged an immediate war against her human side so she could do this for her vampire. She inhaled deeply, trying to relax. Symbols erupted from the dancing shadows, crimson and bronze, and she could sense a spell washing over her and sinking into her skin. Volos’ smooth voice chanted, joined by the other Dynasty Vampyrs, and something dark rose from within her just as wave of hunger slammed into her body.

Oycher’s body rippled with the shadows, becoming opaque for a blurring moment, but he gripped her soundly. “Nevesta, feed from me.”

She lapped at his neck, and it tasted…“Oh, yes!” Her laps turned into deep swallows as a waft of fog rose from the lair’s floor. Her back arched, her muscles going rigid. Terje placed a hand on her lower back, reassuring her, but she needed no reassurance.

She needed more blood.

Isla wrapped her hands around Oycher’s neck, roughly pulling him to her. Her swallows grew faster and faster, her legs twining around his hips. Blood was all she needed, blood and his magnificent body. Twin pains pierced her gums and a red haze filtered her vision. She hissed over his blood-drenched flesh, her lips quivering through the unknown sound.

“Do it, sweet vampiress,” Oycher groaned, angling his neck. She opened her mouth wide and bit into his butter-soft flesh, swallowing more and more and more. Isla gripped his hair, pulling as she clenched her thighs around his hips.

“That’s enough,” Terje cut in, pulling at her shoulders so she would release Oycher. “His heart is slowing.”

Oycher knew he was lost in the throes of her bite, though she could offer no endorphins yet. It was pain, but it was ecstasy finally to feed his mate, and he didn’t want it to end. He shuddered as she rolled her oiled body over his, smacking her pussy right against his stomach. No, he didn’t want this to end at all. He rubbed his hands up and down her back, encouraging her.

Terje intervened, pulling her back as Volos and the others looked on with approval. Isla started hissing and growling her displeasure at Terje, waving her arms as he gripped her by the waist and finally detached them. She knocked away from him, and would have fallen down the back steps of the dais, but she jumped backwards in a lithe move that impressed even Oycher.

Isla snapped her tiny fangs at Terje, but he kept coming at her. He wasn’t afraid of her temper, even in her new and stronger state. But the fog grew thicker, rolling off the floor, and she became agitated the closer Terje got to her.

Volos spoke from above, “Congratulations, Vojak, we bid you farewell. Oh, and I’m sure you know the only way to calm her.” They misted away, finally leaving them with privacy, and it couldn’t have come at a better time.

“Isladora,” Oycher said, trying not to move to the opposite side of Terje. Sure, his instinct was to do exactly what Volos implied, but he wanted her to be gentled, to come down from the transformation and find her mind. She hissed at Oycher, sounding like an angry kitten. He studied her. She’d been beautiful before, but this creature before him out shown any vampiress he’d ever seen. Her jet hair was untouched, but her skin had smoothed into the pore free consistency those who were born vampires exhibited. She was creamy marble, her cerulean eyes glowing even more than ever, her features more defined. Her cheeks were angled, stretching beneath her skin due to her anger, her eyebrows delicately arched ravens wings.

When she spat at him, her lips looked fuller, glistening the same as the rubies she wore. Most importantly for her, because Oycher knew many of her intimate thoughts, her scars were gone. And although scars meant nothing to him in the grande scheme of things, she would never have to face the mirror again and see what those rogue shapeshifters put her through. For that, she would breathe a sigh of relief. She just needed to get through the next few minutes. He glided to a table and snagged a thin pair of gold manacles. Isla moved to attack him, to feed from him once more.

“My mate.” Terje faked a jump and then caught her around the torso when she turned. She clawed frantically at his chest, hissing and baring her needle-like fangs. Terje flipped his eyes to Oycher in a state of near panic. “What the hell? I have no experience with this. She’s enraged!”

“She’s not enraged, but merely unsettled. I have to pin her, fuck her.” Oycher glided next to them, watching her nails tear at Terje’s flesh. He gripped one wrist in vampiric speed and she stayed right with him, fighting with all her might. But even with her new strength, she couldn’t keep up with him. He clipped her other wrist to the first. “She’ll sense her male inside her and come to her senses.” He lifted his chin and said calmly, “Let her go.”

Terje ducked her head butt. “You’re kidding.”

“No, she needs to run from me. It’s instinctual. She might even try to knock me out while I’m entering her, to disprove my dominance. We won’t know until she runs.”

“You are a weird breed,” Terje said in disdain.

“Complain all you want,” Oycher bent his knees, readying to sprint behind her. “You’ll benefit the rewards of vampire oddities in a few seconds.”

“Off you go,” Terje released her with a concerned look. Instead of running away from Oycher, she ran to him, swinging her cuffed wrists and opening her mouth wide. He flipped her the second she landed on him, slamming most of his weight onto her back as they hit the floor. This didn’t seem to faze her new immortal body as she commenced to snarling. He gripped her cuffed wrists in one hand.  Then Oycher carefully placed one clawed finger inside her vagina, holding her thighs steady with his, and lightly scraped inside her. He needed a trickle of blood inside her sex to join a trickle of blood from his sex. When he pulled his finger out, he scraped the underside of his cock, and even part of his sack, to bring forth his blood. This was part of the vampire mating process, to connect them in all ways.  He lifted his arm to her head, holding her steady, and bit the side of her throat in an uncompromising pinning. Then he toed out her ankles and entered her in one rough stroke. The answering fullness of her dildo-stuffed ass took his breath, but nothing could compare to how she splintered around him instantly in a shattering orgasm.

Oycher was able to fuck her in vampire speed, something he hadn’t been able to do before, and it was mind numbing. The taste of her as she flowed in his mouth and the feel of her residual climax milking his dick brought his fantasies to life. With every slam of Oycher’s cock between the swollen lips of her sex, she simmered down, the fight leaving her body as the pleasure of her male’s dominance settled in. Terje also sensed her change, so Oycher reached between her ass cheeks and slowly removed the dildo as he eased back on his thrusts. When he popped it free. He lifted a relaxed and settled Isla over Terje’s body. Slowly she lowered on Terje's cock, her pussy swallowing his thick erection, and then settled her oily nakedness on his chest.

Oycher studied her wider anus, checking the dark opening to see if she could take him, and liking what he found. He stretched over her back and thrust in her ass, swiveling his hips to set off his circlet.

Terje groaned as he felt Oycher enter her rectum. He brought his hands to her breasts and his mouth to her ear. “We’re taking you together,” he breathed harshly. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Isla whispered, her voice scratchy from all the hissing, but she was with them now. “I feel…full perfect.”

Oycher’s heavy length pushed all the way through, throbbing within her tight ass. Terje pulled down, sliding against the thin membrane that separated them, yet brought them together as one.

“Everything is more sensitive this way,” Terje whispered. “I feel every ridge.” They fed off one another. When one moved, the others groaned in pleasure.

“You feel so perfect, Nevesta,” Oycher said, kissing his mark. She tensed with another orgasm, her body moving with them perfectly. She was stronger, yes, but still dainty between them. Oycher moved faster, harder, and she called out their names in exhausted bliss.

“Perfect,” Terje panted, his brows drawing, his body trying to stop what was coming.

“Together,” Oycher demanded, “she’s quivering around us and she’s been through enough.” They thrust to the top, Terje filling her pussy, Oycher filling her ass, and pressed their balls against her, releasing their seed.

Isla let go, her eyes glowing brightly, her face rubbing back and forth on Terje’s chest as her legs straightened. “Aaah!”

“Finally.” Oycher breathed a sigh of relief. “It is done.”

One week later, Captiva Island Florida

Isla sat in the backseat of her new Mercedes sedan. As far as misting went, Terje and Oycher could go wherever they wanted. But, for now, her abilities were limited to following their mists with her own. So wherever they went, Isla could follow. Oycher teased her relentlessly, calling her his little lamb. So she’d taken to calling him Mary, whistling to the tune of Mary had a Little Lamb, which he did not like at all. Just this morning, in a fit of masculine pride, he’d pulled out his cock and asked if it looked like anything a ‘Mary’ could have. Isla didn’t have a verbal comeback for that one, her mind too occupied on sudden possibilities. So, instead, she’d used her mouth in other ways besides verbal sparring.

This was why they were late meeting the realtor.

“Isladora, sweetheart,” Terje addressed her pleadingly, as he helped her out of the car. “This is the fourteenth house we’ve looked at in four days.”

She stepped onto the sandy drive. “It’s not my fault there was something wrong with the other thirteen.”

The setting sun glinted behind his halo of white-blonde hair. “I’ve never heard of a woman complaining that a house was too big before, unless price was figured into her contemplation.” He tapped her nose with a gentle finger. “Might I remind you that price isn’t a concern?”

Isla hadn’t once lived in a perfect, polished house. Sure, most of them had been clean, but the high-life most Captiva Islanders lived didn’t fit her. She tiptoed, waiting for Terje to lean down, so she could peck his lips. “You’re the most patient male I could’ve asked for.” Gripping the delectable biceps straining beneath the sleeves of his polo shirt, she explained, “You know I’ve never lived in a home for very long…I’m nervous about choosing one.”