Chapter 25 Christine #3
I spot a tremor of ingrained fear in Raoul’s eyes—the soul scars of a lifetime. But there’s courage in his gaze, too, and his voice is steady as he tells the Angel, “I do.”
“You will seal that vow with us tonight,” murmurs the Angel, sliding both hands along Raoul’s waist beneath his open shirt. “You will come inside her while I come inside you.”
Raoul shivers, his cheeks scarlet. “Yes.”
“Good boy.” With his hand in the auburn waves, the Angel pulls Raoul’s head back for a long, passionate kiss.
My body is on fire, every inch of my skin glowing with violent need for them both.
I watch the Angel disrobe Raoul, and then Raoul climbs onto the bed with me while the Angel discards his own clothing.
Before he joins us, he takes his phone from his pants and opens a playlist of romantic instrumental music.
The unfurling melody changes the entire mood of the room, turns it into a place of sweet intimacy, adds a deeper layer of meaning and beauty to what we’re doing. I’ve always loved how music can alter reality like that.
The Angel adjusts the volume, then turns to me and Raoul. He licks his lips and hesitates a moment before saying, “You can call me Erik. If you like.”
He looks strangely, adorably nervous. Not at all like a monstrous, mythical figure with a capacity for the most diabolical of plans but a lonely soul, still unsure, still not convinced that he will ever be accepted completely or cherished entirely.
He doesn’t yet believe that we love him.
“Erik,” I repeat softly. “Come here.”
He approaches, his body rigid. We pull him onto the creaking motel bed with us, into the symphony of our kisses and our naked bodies.
We writhe and shift and breathe, finding our places, our rhythm.
I’m on my back, and Raoul’s lovely cock has slipped inside my soaked pussy.
Erik teases Raoul’s asshole with his vibrating tongue for a few moments while Raoul pants heavily against me and I hold him tight, delighting in the expression of tortured bliss on his pretty face.
Then Erik applies the lube and eases himself inside Raoul, a little at a time, while I kiss Raoul’s mouth and murmur encouraging words to him.
We move with the swell of the music, pleasure rippling through our joined bodies. There’s a blissful anguish in our blended melody, in Raoul’s faint moans and my whimpering pleas and Erik’s shattered groans.
Raoul comes first, driven to the peak by the stimulation of my pussy and Erik’s cock.
He cries out, sobbing “Fuck” again and again while shivers run over his skin.
The sensation of him throbbing inside me is more than I can take.
I touch my clit while I surge against him, and I come in a rush of languid pleasure, like a warm tide foaming through my body.
We both feel it when Erik comes. It’s violent, powerful, shaking all three of us, sending tremors through the bed, the room, maybe the entire motel. I have a momentary vision of the aftershocks thrumming through the realm of the dead, all the way into the deepest hollows of the universe.
Raoul collapses forward on me, his body still full of Erik, my body still full of him. He presses my face into the curve of his neck and whispers, “Drink.”
At the invitation, my fangs emerge before I can think twice about it.
I press the pointed tips against his hot flesh, puncture the skin, penetrate the muscle.
His blood pumps into my mouth, hot and salty, rich and wild.
I can taste the wolf, its ferocity and its loyalty, and I know, with a certainty beyond words, that Raoul’s monster understands mine.
Raoul groans when Erik pulls out, a note of pain in the sound. I withdraw my fangs and lick the puncture wounds on his throat.
“Face down on the bed,” I tell him. “Ass up.”
Moments later, we’re rearranged, with Erik cradling Raoul’s head in his lap while I tend to the sore flesh between the cheeks of Raoul’s perfect ass.
I take long licks of the Angel’s cum, which is slipping from Raoul’s puckered hole, and then I press my tongue deep into Raoul so my vampire’s saliva will soothe any lingering pain.
He breathes easier, relaxing, and I move alongside him so both our heads are in Erik’s lap. When Erik grows hard again, Raoul and I take turns sucking on him until his cock is wet and glistening, swollen with need. Then we run our mouths along the length of it together until he comes.
Over and over, we pleasure each other, and between orgasms, I feed from them both until I’m so thoroughly sated I can’t move. When we’re straining for climax, we snarl the most wickedly erotic curses, and in the delirium of the afterglow, we murmur the most poetically ridiculous words of love.
I’ve never been happier. And this time, the sex is underpinned by confidence, by the commitment we each made tonight.
Erik has given us his whole self, unmasked.
Raoul has broken free of his past.
And I have embraced the family I never wanted—the family I desperately needed. The two people who know my secrets and love me recklessly, obsessively, worshipfully.
This time, I don’t have to hide any part of myself, no matter how dark or unpalatable it may seem to me, because they accept it all, and I accept them in return.
It’s the most naked, monstrous, indestructible kind of love.