Chapter 21
Finally, a tall, pale vampire stopped in front of her cage, then stepped to the side and unlatched the door.
Emmy stepped forward, heart hammering with need more than fear.
His hand closed around her wrist, cool and unyielding, pulling her through the heat and sound toward a line of low, steel-framed platforms.
The equipment here was plain: steel horizontal bars set for food to be stretched over. A convenient way for vampires to fuck and bite their food. Function over spectacle.
The vampire shoved her over a bar, metal biting into her hips, his hand between her shoulder blades pressing her flat. She grabbed the second bar to keep her body horizontal, and noted she could feel the beat stronger here, and her pulse matched up with it, her clit throbbing along with it.
The air vibrated with moans, the sharp crack of whips from another platform, a chorus of pain and pleasure blurred together.
He didn’t speak. Didn’t tease. Just lined up and drove into her ass with one savage thrust.
The stretch and friction, the violence of it, made her scream. Pain flashed, bright and white, then melted into the deeper ache she’d been craving for hours.
The vampire’s cold hands gripped her hips, and he pulled out and forced his way back in. He fucked her with brutal, unrelenting strokes that rocked her palms against the bar with a violence that made her have to focus on holding onto it.
Every thrust was vicious, but still, she wanted more. The feeding stations are designed to keep the food still, so she couldn’t push back without letting go of the bar, couldn’t even arch her back to give him a different angle.
She whimpered in frustration, adding to the rest of the sounds in the room, the other bodies being used.
She didn’t remember her wrists being chained to the bar. Someone must’ve done that while he was fucking her, because the vampire had not. Even if she wanted to rise, or to push back, she couldn’t.
No, she was forced to take it, forced to feel every inch of him. The ache built fast, her muscles fluttering, cunt throbbing while she was filled and fucked, nothing but flesh and heat and hunger.
And then he slowed, brushed her hair all over to her left side, leaned over, and the vampire’s fangs sank into the side of her neck.
Emmy froze, a gasp caught halfway in her throat as fire shot through her veins and the venom twisted her frustrations into molten pleasure.
The orgasm hit without warning, detonating from deep inside and tearing through her like a storm.
Her cry became a guttural sound, half scream, half sob, as her body spasmed around him, muscles clenching in rhythmic waves.
He groaned against her skin, still buried to the hilt.
He pulled his fangs from her neck, licked the holes, and then stood and fucked her harder and faster than ever.
Each thrust pulled another spasm from her, another pulse of heat and need.
The venom kept firing, kept stoking every nerve until she was shaking uncontrollably, tears hot on her cheeks, the world reduced to sensation — metal and flesh, cock and asshole, pulse and power.
She didn’t come all the way down from her first orgasm when another hit, ripping through her harder than the first, dragging a cry from her throat.
Her body locked around him, her ass squeezing his cock as if she could milk him dry, and he shuddered with a guttural moan that vibrated against her shoulder.
For a few long seconds, there was nothing but the rhythm, the music’s slow beat, her heartbeat racing, his hips grinding — and then he stilled, pulled out, and left without a word.
But then another cock was behind her, this one in her pussy, pressing in, invading and conquering.
Fangs between her shoulder blades this time, the sharp pain gone in seconds, but the pressure unrelenting while he injected more venom into her, his cock moving slowly in her pussy while he filled her, took a sip, and then withdrew.
She shuddered at the coolness of his tongue licking the holes, and then he jackhammered her pussy hard and fast — and much too deep.
At her sharp cry, he backed off a little, not in speed, but in depth.
But this time, the ache inside her, the pulse of need, refused to crest, and it didn’t take her long to realize he’d injected the denial venom. Her muscles fluttered with every movement, her pulse trapped between wanting and never quite reaching.
He used her with the violence and speed only an old one can manage, driving her closer to the edge, holding her there until it fucking hurt, knowing how badly she needed release, and uncaring that she’d never find it.
When he finally pulled away she was trembling and desperate, her pulse racing, her clit throbbing, and teetering on the edge of a climax she couldn’t quite reach.
The next vampire was in her ass before she’d caught her breath, fat and thick, spreading her wide.
Five minutes in, his bite landed higher, at the junction of shoulder and neck, and the rush that followed was immediate, flooding her nerves and setting off the chain reaction the last had denied, and her orgasm took her to another universe, out of her body and back into it, over and over while he fucked her.
Climax after climax, it was too much and not enough, pleasure clawing through exhaustion, every sound and flicker of light in the room sharper, more alive.
Her body stopped belonging to her; it belonged to the rhythm, to the scene, to the dark tide of energy moving through the ballroom as she came again and again.
Vampires came and went, their mouths finding new places along her back and shoulders.
Each bite was a different drug: one sending her soaring, another stealing the strength from her limbs, another keeping her right on the edge so she could only gasp and beg.
The torches threw red light across sweat-slicked skin; screams and cries rose and fell in the distance.
Somewhere, a whip cracked, while someone laughed too loudly from the other direction, and all of it blurred together until the whole room felt like the inside of a heartbeat, and time lost its edges.
One of the black-suited monitors released her wrists, helped her stand, and asked her what twenty times twenty-five was. It took her a second to go through twenty squared at 400, plus five times twenty is a hundred, so, “Five hundred.”
The monitor nodded and left, and two vampires stepped in, hands holding her elbows, the press of bodies steering her toward a low, padded bondage table.
“Up.”
She didn’t know which vampire said it, but it didn’t matter. She climbed onto it, palms flat on the leather, muscles trembling from overload. Around her, the masquerade of hell carried on: demons feasting, screams echoing, chains rattling, moans melting into the low bass of the music.
Emmy’s knees pressed into the padded edge of the bondage table, her body bent forward, hips tilted up as the vampire behind her gripped her waist and his fingers dug into her skin.
The air was heavy with the scent of cum and sweat, the ballroom’s red glow painting everything in shades of crimson.
Her raw asshole throbbed as the vampire spread her cheeks and his cock pressed against the tender ring of muscle.
She gasped, the casual, proprietary handling igniting a spark of need despite the exhaustion pulling at her.
The other vampire went to his knees in front of her and stroked his thick length inches from her lips.
He didn’t bother telling her to open, just touched the head to her lips and assumed she would.
Which, of course, she did — and then her breath hitched when the vampire behind her shoved, ruthlessly filling and spreading her ass with a searing stretch that made her toes curl against the padded leather.
She was nothing but a warm, breathing play-toy between them as they found their rhythm — one thrusting into her mouth, the other deep in her ass, their movements synced to the ballroom’s primal bass.
Her body rocked between them, a vessel for their hunger, but her own desire was a wildfire that refused to die.
Her throat relaxed, taking the vampire’s cock deeper, saliva dripping down her chin as she moaned around him.
The one behind her growled, his thrusts steady but brutal, each one sending a jolt of painful pleasure that made her clit throb harder.
The ballroom’s sounds were a backdrop — whips cracking, moans rising, chains rattling.
The entire room was a symphony of excess, and Emmy surrendered to it.
And then the vampire behind her slowed a little, the one in front of her sat back on his heels, and one of them called out, “Zander! Care to share our bounty?”
His hand slid up Emmy’s spine, offering her up like a prize, and Emmy looked up to see Zander and those impossibly blue eyes.
His presence hit her like a shockwave, the massive black wings unfurled a tiny bit, his cock still hard, gleaming in the flickering firelight.
Emmy’s heart stuttered when his lips curved into a slow, wicked smile, and it looked like he would agree.
He stepped closer, wings casting a shadow over the table, and Emmy’s world narrowed to him.
Their gazes met, and the air crackled, electric and heavy, like a storm about to break.
His eyes caressed over her like the softest touch, but then came the flicker of recognition: the moment he realized it was her.
His jaw tightened, and her chest ached, knowing his decision had changed in that split second.
For several long seconds, neither looked away, the world around them fading to nothing, as if they were the only two in the room. Emmy’s body trembled, not just from the raw stretch in her ass, but from the weight of Zander’s stare, like he was seeing her soul laid bare.