Chapter 38
The moment he pulled himself from her, he saw her leaking his cum and it was probably the most ethereal sight he’d ever seen.
He wanted more. He needed more. It didn’t matter that he already finished. It didn’t matter that he stretched her as far as she’d go. Nothing mattered—but pleasing her, and taming the monster within.
And the monster still wanted more of her.
Lila squeaked as Ambrose flew from the room. He already tainted Hektor’s bed, the memories that came with it. He had seen her memories of this place, how haunted she was by each room, and it twisted his gut to think of the torment and pain she went through. Lila deserved so much more than the hand she’d been dealt, and he wanted to make sure she was given a life worthy of her.
A tall order, indeed.
He didn’t know how he ever doubted that she could love him. It was written in her soul. Part of him wondered if they were made for each other, if that sort of thing existed. She had been through so much, her trauma matching his in a way he never thought anyone could relate. Different, of course, but similar.
She loved the monster, loved him with no qualms, loved him with no fear. And he knew he could give it to her—be that with her.
Ambrose took her to the main hall, where Lila was paralyzed and forced between Drusilla and Hektor, where she saw a bloodbath. He knew she still thought about the faces she saw then, about the woman Hektor fucked to death.
He bristled at the thought of the vile bastard. He couldn’t wait to rip his head off.
But this wasn’t about him. In fact, it would never be about him—everything was about her.
Lila stiffened as he flew through the doors, he could feel her spine straighten against where his palm held her. The last time she was in here was right before she killed so many vampires, right before she was whipped and beaten, right before she was collared into oblivion.
Don’t be afraid, love, he said gently through the Concord. He was quite the gentle monster—at least, when it came to her. Lila gripped his shoulder tighter.
I’m here, and I’m not leaving. We’re rewriting your history here, so whenever you think of this place, you will only remember how good I made you feel. How loved and worshiped you were. How my tongue felt against your clit.
She stiffened again, but by the smell of her, he knew it was from something else. Warmth reignited around her, warming him as well. Lords, he loved how that felt.
Walking up to the dais, Ambrose carefully put her down on the upper-most level. She looked like a queen, and he was ready to bow for her.
“Tell me what you want,” he breathed, taking the few steps down to the main level and dropping to his knees before her.
Lila’s perfect lips were parted, confused by his sudden position. He felt it shimmer off her, but just as confused as she was, there was also a magenta tendril of curiosity swirling around her, a sliver of boldness.
“I’ve told you once, I would beg on my knees for you. Tell me to beg, Lila. Because if you don’t, I don’t know if I’ll survive. If you don’t, I’ll have to go over there, and take what I want.”
Lila smirked, and leaned back on the dais, propping herself up on her elbows. “And what, my love, will you be begging for?” Her eyebrow arched, and she spread her legs, just a little wider for him to see her perfect little pussy, still covered in him.
Ambrose stared there, knowing what his glare did to her, knowing how it’d warm that needy swollen clit, that entrance dripping with their combined come. A shuddering breath escaped his lips as he saw her cunt glisten with new wetness.
“We want the same thing, love.”
“And how,” her hands slowly trailed down her body, “do you know what I want?”
Her thin fingers slipped between her thighs, between the plump lips, and circled her swollen clit. A breathy moan nearly had Ambrose lunging.
With her eyes still on him, Lila stuck a singular finger into her pussy.
The corner of Ambrose’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Tell me, Little Crow, how does one of your tiny fingers compare to my cock?”
Her finger halted, drawing his attention between her thighs once more. As she watched, he slowly, purposefully, licked his lips.
Lila gave a breathy laugh. “If you want me to admit this is nothing in comparison, fine. But, Ambrose Draven, if you want to touch me again—if you want me to come again—then you’ll have to work for it. If not, I might just have to do it myself. Maybe, if you’re a good boy, I’ll even let you watch.” She slipped her finger out, and circled her clit again, the she-devil.
Ambrose was salivating, desperate. So he lowered himself farther, pressing his hands to the floor. “Please, love. Please let me touch you. No—let me taste you. I want you on my tongue. I want to lick and suck and kiss and feast on you. I want to cradle your swollen clit, and take care of your sore pussy with my tongue. I haven’t tasted you nearly enough, I’m starved, and I need more.”
Lila focused on her clit, another whimper he was desperate to devour.
“Please. Please,” he begged. He rubbed his hand over his hard length, each groove and bump desperate to pleasure her once more. Ambrose couldn’t take his eyes off those tricky little fingers, he wanted them, wanted to be them. Drool pooled on his lips, desperately salivating for just a taste. “Just . . . one little taste. Please, baby. I need to know what we taste like.”
“Get closer,” she moaned. “But don’t touch—just watch.” The fingers circled faster.
“Lila, please. Don’t come.”
She smirked wickedly. “You asked me what I wanted,” the fingers slid down her plump lips and disappeared into her waiting, desperate pussy. “I want you to watch.”
Ambrose hesitantly crawled up the first two steps, his face hovering above her thighs. If he lowered himself now, he could taste her. Maybe just one lick . . .
“Watch,” Lila whispered. She truly was testing his resolve to do anything for her and it was dawning on him more and more that where doing anything to her was easy, doing anything for her was the true difficulty.
A drop of his saliva dripped from his lips, and he watched as it slowly fell onto her clit, glistening as it trailed a hot path to where her fingers pushed in and out of her.
“Lila,” his voice was so gruff, it didn’t sound familiar to his own ears, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the drop. “Please let me taste. Please let me lick you, let me have you. I need you on my tongue” He was shaking, his limbs full of untamed, unkempt energy, desperate to release it on her. His tongue peeked out of his mouth, imagining he could already taste her.
Lila gasped and slid her fingers out. His eyes tracked them as she grazed her clit, as they passed her belly and her peaked nipples—begging to be sucked—and onto her lips. His eyes went wide as she sucked her fingers into her lips, tasting herself, tasting them. She moaned around her fingers.
“We taste so good,” she hummed.
Ambrose lost it, he lowered himself and pressed his face into her pussy, his lips already spreading her lips. But all he did was breathe her in. His tongue was desperate to lap her up, to lick from that tight little ass hole to her needy fucking clit.
“Let me lick you.” His voice was now all demand, all order. If she didn’t let him, he would punish her. Oh yes, he would punish her so well, it’ll be everything she was doing to him and more. He’ll suck her fucking clit for a week straight. He will feast on her dripping cunt till it’s swollen and bruised from his tongue, his lips. His teeth. Till she came over and over in his mouth, till she was sick of his tongue on her.
His breath brushed against her hot center, adding to the heat wave hitting his face.
“Please,” he begged once more.
Lila’s eyes were on him, and her hand tentatively tangled into his hair. She pushed down on his head, just the slightest, and it was all he needed.
Ambrose grabbed her hips, nails digging into her ass, and pulled her to his mouth, his tongue lapping like a starving animal, drinking in every bit of her, exploring every crevice of her pussy, sucking every swollen flesh from earlier. His tongue consumed her, driving into her cunt as she rocked her hips on him.
Ride my tongue, you beautiful thing. Ride my tongue till you come all over it.
It was so unlike the time under the stars. It was so much more raw, so much more animalistic. It was pure fucking need, it was messy, it wasn’t tactful like last time.
And clearly, Lila was loving it. She wrapped her legs around his shoulders, her ankles locking behind his neck. He took one of his hands and pressed his palm into her lower belly, and Lila bucked back, moaning. Her voice clouded his ears, it was all he needed to fuel him forward.
More more more more more more more more more more more.
He couldn’t stop begging through the Concord, and Lila’s hand in his hair held him exactly where she wanted him.
“Ambrose,” she moaned, and with her free hand dug his thumb into her flesh just above the mound of her pussy. “Cut me, here. Drink.”
Are you sure?
More than anything. Drink my blood and my cum, I’m not going to last much longer.
The idea sent jolt to his cock. Months ago, before the night under the stars, before she was taken, there were a bout of days he could smell blood coming from her room and knew she must’ve been menstruating. They were still training then, and every night she joined him in the dungeon was torture. Every night, he wanted to rip the leathers from her ass, from her cunt, throw her on the mat, and shove his tongue into her bleeding pussy.
But back then, he’d been walking a line. Back then, she had priorities, she wanted to get strong. So, he stroked himself over and over, thinking of her cum and blood on his tongue, until the week passed.
But now, their love was open. He could have her whenever, and he would.
He drew his thumb into her flesh, just enough to draw a thin line of blood, and pushed on her pelvis to give her the ultimate satisfaction.
Lila’s blood trailed down onto her clit, and it was as though the world exploded around them.
“Fuck,” Ambrose cursed over Lila’s moans. “Delicious.”
He drank her, licked at all of her, sucking her blood-covered clit into his mouth, sucking it till its pink shade turned into a color closer to Lila’s hair.
“Ah, I’m going to come,” she moaned, her back arching into his touch.
“Not yet,” he growled, sucking her up, devouring her.
“I—I can’t hold out, I can’t.”
His tongue ran all over her, back and forth, up and down, flicking every sensitive bundle, every soaked spot.
His mouth closed on the small cut he made, sucking a mouthful of blood, and then driving his tongue far enough into her pussy, he felt her walls push against it.
So fucking delicious, he said again, unable to think of better words, unable to speak the wicked poetry he normally conjured.
All he could speak now was blunt truth. She was fucking delicious.
Lila bucked against him, screaming out, as a fresh gush of hot ecstasy bursts around his tongue. Ambrose gripped her ass again, and lapped at it all, drinking it all in, as Lila wormed and moaned and lifted herself up, hugging herself around his soft hair, trying to wiggle out from under him before it all was too much.
“Ah!” she screamed, just as Ambrose finally pulled up. His mouth was dripping with her and he wanted it there forever, wanted the reminder on his skin that he was hers. They owned each other like it was their right. Because it was. He had offered himself to her, and she had offered herself to him. Neither was slave, neither was murine. But they both were claimed.
Ambrose looked down at his sun, watching as she took deep, hungry breaths. Her eyes were glossy as they met his. Her limbs slackened, before going completely limp back on the dais.
Ambrose finally felt his form loosen, his muscles slacken. His wings were lazily hanging behind him, the monster inside of him . . . tamed. Calmed. Ambrose shifted into his human form, and took a deep breath like it was the first one he’d taken since he’d lost Lila on the battlefield.
Slowly, he crawled over her exhausted form, till his face was above hers and his long white hair tickled her cheeks.
“Are you okay?”
She smiled, cheeks red from afterglow, as her chest still rapidly rose and fell as she tried to catch her breath. “More than okay.”
He lowered his face, nuzzling her cheek. “There is still one more thing I’d like to do. And one more room I’d like to . . . cleanse. But only if you’re up for it.”
Lila pressed her forehead to his, breathing him in. “I need—to catch—my breath,” she exhaled. “But, yes. Anything.”
Ambrose smiled, and scooped his arms under her, pulling her up to press flush against him as he leaned up again on his knees. He rubbed her back, trying to help ease the oxygen back into her lungs. Then he guided her thighs around his waist, cupped her ass, and stood with her. Her head rested on his shoulder as he carried her from the main room of the Viper Morada, the room Ambrose had gotten on his knees for the love of his life, the room he gave her an orgasm so strong, she couldn’t breathe.
It was rewritten.
Ambrose kicked the last door open. He knew this would be his final stop of the night the moment the reenactment idea came to him.
It was a room Lila was afraid of. Not like Hektor’s, that was filled with violence and sexual assault. Not the main hall, filled with its vampire debauchery, blood loss, and torment. But this room was filled with something else. It was filled with her enslavement. It was filled with death.
Ambrose nudged Ciro’s bedroom door open. He knew this room. Had seen it through the Concord when he helped Lila break Ciro’s thrall as he tried to force her to kiss him.
He knew that spot was where Ciro killed his parents, knew that was where he forced her to act against her will. He would replace those memories, so every time she thought of them, every time her thoughts turned ugly, or strayed to pain, she could remember this too. Remember the pleasure, the joy, the sensations of this. Of them.
As he walked past the threshold, he lifted his hand to her back, rubbing her slowly.
“Are you with me, love?”
She groaned into his shoulder, half in sleep.
“Would you rather sleep?”
“No,” she said, lifting her head. Suddenly, her body temperature rose, and he felt like he was standing in the sunlight once again, a warm blanket wrapped around him instead of the love of his life.
Lila pushed her body up, her arms on his shoulders helped her straighten.
The warmer she got, the more she moved.
She exhaled, and smirked at him. “Having these regenerative powers is proving to be . . . useful in more ways than I thought.”
Lila was glowing. And he wasn’t sure if it was still the afterglow of her orgasm or if it was the power of the Sun Child, but he felt mystified. Like he was in the presence of a goddess.
Ambrose carefully placed Lila on the floor, and then took a step back.
“So,” she said, putting her hands behind her back. Her breasts swelled with more excitement. “What did you have in mind?”
Surpassing a lump in his throat, Ambrose gulped. “I . . . I want to try again. I . . . think I can control myself this time. If you give me the chance.” His voice was low, almost shy. He hadn’t heard this tone in years. Not since he’s had nothing to fear.
Lila pressed her hand to his chest suddenly, a warmth spreading from her palm through his chest, past every nerve and muscle of his being.
“From behind, you mean?”
He clenched his jaw and nodded. “Only if you want.” He couldn’t meet her eyes. His heart was pounding, and his palms were oddly clammy. Ambrose was just desperate to rewrite the pain he caused her, so desperate to show her he could do it right, could prove that she’d like it.
But Lila never responded. At least, not in words.
She dropped to all fours and turned, spreading her cheeks for him to see that daringly tight little puckered hole.
“Are you sure?” his voice was dark. But he couldn’t take his eyes off the vision before him. Her cunt was like a painting, if the artist lost both hands and painted with a sopping paintbrush and his cock. Her thighs were a mess. Even the puckered hole he was desperate to be inside of was coated in their mixed juices.
In answering again, Lila drove her hand between her folds, shuddering at the sensation again, and smeared the wetness on the puckered hole.
Then, the fiery little goddess wiggled her ass at him, beckoning him over.
Ambrose dropped to his knees, and shifted forward till her hips were lined with his stiff cock. He was ready to come again, and this time, he’d fill her tight little ass after she milked his cock. He’d fill her so much, she would ooze his cum for days.
“Try to stay relaxed. It makes it feel better.”
Lila nodded and whispered, “Okay. Can you . . . talk me through it?”
Ambrose dropped over her, his arms on either side of hers, caging her under him. His index finger reached for her pinky, and interlocked. “Of course, love. Anything.” He kissed her cheek. “It’s going to feel a little uncomfortable at first, it’ll feel very full. But once you acclimate, I’ll be able to move in and out. There is a bundle of nerves within that you’ll feel in your pussy. If it feels good tell me where, and I’ll make sure you feel really good. If you need my hand to fuck you, just tell me.”
“I love you.”
The words caught him off guard. His eyebrows drew together, and a silly frown turned his lips.
“I just want you to know. You’re . . . so sweet. More than you realize, I think.” She kissed his cheek. “Now take me like a filthy animal, you monster.”