40. Chapter Forty - Breathless Weight #2
Without a word, he lifted me off the table and into his lap.
My legs dangled open, still twitching, far too sensitive as they brushed against his thighs.
My head spun as I settled there, exposed and utterly spent, while he reached for a napkin and wiped his face with slow, deliberate movements, as if this had all been another part of breakfast.
Across from us, Rupert raised a forkful of fruit in a mock toast, his grin sharp and knowing.
“Thank you for the meal,” Culver murmured, his voice smooth and devilish, as if he’d just finished savoring the finest wine.
I blinked, my mouth falling open as my mind struggled to catch up with my body. A breath stuttered out of me, heat flooding my face so quickly it made my ears ring.
“B-but—” I started, the words tangling uselessly in my throat. “They saw—oh my God—I’m so sorry y’all saw that—”
The humiliation hit late, rushing through me all at once as reality settled back into place.
My legs were still parted. My body still tingled.
I was still sitting in Culver’s lap, half-naked and flushed, and they had seen everything.
Not just strangers passing through, but inhuman creatures I had to mingle with for years to come.
My stomach churned, shame curling tight and low even as my body still hummed with the delicious, treacherous echo of pleasure.
Rupert waited until I finally ran out of air before speaking, his tone infuriatingly calm.
“So what?” he said, twirling a spoon lazily between his fingers. “What’s a little pleasure here and there? My dear brother is in the comforts of his home with his beloved, so there should be no need for secrecy or discreet fucking.”
The way he said it, smooth and poetic, without even a hint of tension or judgment, left me staring at him in stunned silence, my mouth hanging open with nothing coming out.
I just couldn’t wrap my head around a place where all of it felt so everyday, where nobody batted an eye or acted like we’d crossed some huge line that needed fixing.
I’d done reckless things before, like that one time at a party where I had sex in front of people amid all the haze of drugs and loose edges.
But this was different. They weren’t random faces in the crowd.
They were people I actually knew. They were family in a way that stuck with me, the kind who’d carry the memory long after and who’d seen every moan, every shudder, and every slick, shameless part of me laid bare.
Did it count as incest on Culver’s part?
The thought slithered into my mind uninvited, absurd and unsettling, and I shook it off quickly.
No. It wasn’t that.
But it was something else entirely, something I didn’t yet have the words or understanding for.
“My beautiful lamb,” Culver murmured against my temple, his voice soft, as if none of it had rattled him in the slightest. He lifted a single grape, holding it to my lips between two fingers, his gaze glowing low with heat. “Eat your breakfast.”
I stared at him for a long second, my mind still fogged from everything, my body still humming with lingering aftershocks that hadn’t quite faded.
And there he was, looking so effortlessly put together, like the light just favored him.
Now he was feeding me as though it were some quiet ritual, turning what should have felt wrong into an oddly profound, intimate connection.
Something in my chest tightened, not with fear, but with the strange, raw intimacy.
Instead of looking away, instead of shrinking back into myself, I leaned into the moment.
I stuck out my tongue slowly, curling it around the grape and drawing it into my mouth without breaking eye contact.
The skin burst between my teeth, sweet juice flooding my tongue.
Before pulling back, I let my lips linger around his finger, suckling lightly, then bit down fully on the grape and chewed with exaggerated ease, savoring the taste of him along with it.
His pupils darkened, and desire slid back into his gaze as if it had never truly left, a slow, hungry flame rekindling.
“So…” I said, my voice still breathless as I tilted my head, finally finding my footing again. “Vampires just… fuck in front of each other?”
The question slipped out, half-teasing, half-genuine, curiosity threading through the lingering haze of embarrassment.
I really wanted to understand the world I’d stumbled into, to figure out if there were any boundaries at all or if they just didn’t apply.
And honestly, a small, secret part of me was surprised to realize I wasn’t totally against it.
I was drawn in by how unashamed it all seemed, how pleasure could just exist without the weight of hiding or feeling bad about it.
“I suppose it is a vampire thing,” Culver replied easily, shrugging as his fingers traced idle, tantalizing patterns along my thigh, each stroke sending faint sparks through my still-sensitive skin. “A human thing too, in the right settings. A plethora of humans host sanctum parties.”
“Sanctum parties?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as I reached for a fork and speared a piece of pastry. The normalcy of eating felt surreal, like grounding myself in something small and ordinary might keep me sane. “What are those?”
Soroush finally looked up from his phone, his expression calm, almost bored, though there was a spark of mischief just beneath the surface.
“Orgies,” he said plainly. “They’re basically rich orgies, Ira.”
My throat tightened mid-bite. I swallowed anyway.
A realization settled in my chest, slow and heavy, that maybe I had underestimated just how far over my head I’d gone.
The pastry crumbled warm and flaky on my tongue, a rich, buttery taste melting through me, but my mind kept pulling me deeper, so I just kept chewing steadily, drawing in breaths to hold onto the moment.
“Morning, by the way,” I added awkwardly, the words tumbling out a beat too late. “I’m so sorry. I was too… well, you know… to say that earlier.”
“Morning,” Rupert replied, his smirk unfading, as if it had been permanently etched onto his face.
Soroush’s gaze lingered on me a moment longer than necessary before he offered a gentle smile, something soft around the edges. “Good morning, Ira.”
I shifted slightly in Culver’s lap, my awareness of him sharpening into something electric, my thoughts drifting despite myself.
“So…” I said, clearing my throat as I tried to steer the conversation somewhere safer, lighter. “Cat’s outta the bag.” I gestured weakly around us, a half-laugh escaping before it fizzled out. “That you guys are vampires.”
“I’m not,” Soroush said quietly, shaking his head as his fingers toyed with the edge of his sleeve. “At least… not yet.”
Not yet.
The words landed with weight, clinking into the air like glass. There was something unresolved there, something waiting, and the sound of it made my stomach twist. It felt like a future being spoken into existence before he was ready for it.
“Yes, my Sun,” Rupert murmured, catching Soroush’s hand and lifting it to his mouth. He pressed a kiss to his knuckles, tender and possessive all at once. “So when are you planning on becoming one of us, pet?”
The nickname made my skin prickle. Everything about Rupert felt designed to provoke. His eyes flicked toward me as he said it, gauging my reaction, testing boundaries like he always did.
“She is clearly not ready for that.”
Culver’s voice cut through the moment with quiet authority.
It wasn’t raised. The finality of it settled into the room, heavy and undeniable, sinking into my still-sensitive flesh like a brand.
His gaze stayed fixed on his brother, emerald and unyielding, and something unspoken passed between them, something that made the air thicken with tension.
“A pity,” Rupert sighed, unbothered as ever. He leaned forward and plucked a grape from my plate, popping it into his mouth with deliberate slowness before flashing me a wink that made me want to shove his chair back.
I narrowed my eyes, irritation giving way to curiosity. “Another question.”
“Go on then,” Rupert hummed.
“Do you guys need to eat human food?”
“No,” he replied immediately. “It’s bland and flavorless. But it has a brilliant texture inside the mouth. Chewing it can be… satisfying.”
“Roo eats human food from time to time,” Soroush added quietly, a small smile tugging at his lips as he leaned closer to Rupert. “His favorite is Jell-O.”
Rupert placed one hand flat against the table, the other lifting dramatically like he was about to deliver a grand declaration.
“The texture is unreal.”
I blinked, stunned.
Immortal predators discussing their fondness for Jell-O while I sat half-naked, still sensitive, still sticky from being devoured on a dining table, my skin still humming with the memory of Culver’s mouth on me. The absurdity of it all was too overwhelming.
A laugh slipped out of me, light and breathless, bubbling up from somewhere deep as I shifted slightly in Culver’s lap.
The movement sent a faint tremor through me, a reminder of how sensitive I still was, and I sucked in a quiet breath as I tried to steady myself against the lingering ache between my thighs.
“As fun as this has been…” I said, glancing between the three of them with a sheepish smile that didn’t quite stick, “I’m kinda worn out… and feeling a bit exposed.”
Rupert waved a hand dismissively, reclining back in his chair with dramatic ease, as though my discomfort were an inconvenience he couldn’t be bothered to entertain.