Chapter 49 | Sephania
Sephania
Everyone is baffled by Vallan’s announcement. Slowly, the weapons start to lower.
“What?” Skartovius fires. I don’t think I’ve seen him so surprised at anything. “How? He was your master. Even with Sephania’s Loreblood in your veins, no bloodthrall has ever been able to slaughter such an ancient nobleblood.”
“And they still haven’t,” Vall explains. “Overlord Aramastun Wyvox gets the honor, I suppose, for holding the sword that pierced Master Barnabac’s heart.”
Skar can’t believe it. Neither can I, and I don’t even know what the fuck is going on. I never even met Barnabac Craxon, and judging by Vallan’s tone, this was not a surprise to him.
Almost like he’s been playing a long con this entire time.
Still, even with my heart overjoyed and thundering mercilessly in my chest at Vallan’s arrival, it is Lukain I can’t stop glancing at.
To know my largest mate hasn’t betrayed our cause, or me, is overwhelming.
But to know we’ve gained such a considerable force in Lukain—a man I desperately wanted to be partly good but had given up trying to rescue—pushes me over the edge.
Lord Ashfen, always observant, notices the relief flooding my face. Evidently, he notices something else even I don’t recognize at first. “Temptress, go have your dalliance with the half-blood in peace,” he quips.
“You mean your brother?” I shoot back.
“Half-brother,” he reminds me, frowning at Vallan. “I will get to the bottom of what our large friend here is talking about, and report back to you my findings.”
Vallan’s face sinks, and I know why: He understands he still can’t be fully trusted until we know more. Skartovius needs to verify the truth of his claim—guarantee Barnabac Craxon is dead—before we can move on from this harrowing experience.
The fact Vall is here reporting all this is enough for me. For now. And Skar is right: There is a much-needed “dalliance” I need to pursue with Lukain Mortis. And I need to dally right fucking now.
I take the dhampir’s hand in mine, giving him a shy smile as we walk out a side door and hurry down a hallway.
“Where are you leading me, you glorious succubus?” Lukain asks with a chuckle.
I pull him upstairs. Drag him down the hall. Push him into an empty bedroom. Once I have the door shut, I slide my back against it to bar Lukain’s escape. Not that he’s looking to escape this heated moment, when the blood of me is positively itching and burning with need.
“You’re going to give me what you owe me after putting me through so much shit, Master,” I tell him in a dark, spurious tone.
“I . . . am helpless to stop you, little grimmer.”
His voice is a groan of understanding, every inch of his delicious body loosening as his eyes take me in fully. He only briefly tightens when I push off from the door and march toward him.
Before I’ve stormed halfway across the room, I’ve discarded my clothes, swords, and belt. There’s no time for coyness, uncertainty, or insecurity. Not in this world.
I let him take in my thick body, my wide hips, my heavy breasts, and his eyes widen like he’s seeing a goddess for the first time.
Vallan is back. My mother is alive and with us.
All of that can wait. This can’t, because I’ve needed it for so long—kept it buried amid my pain and struggles ever since losing Lukain.
He betrayed me. Not the first man to do it.
Then he rectified his betrayal and begged for forgiveness.
I have half a mind to make him grovel more once this is over—to put him in his place so he can understand how I’ve felt all these years after losing the Grimsons and my entire life in Nuhav, thanks to him.
I reach for the filthy half-blood and help him throw his tunic over his head, then land on the many scars slicing up and down his muscled torso where Skartovius—among others—wounded him in the past.
He deserved those wounds. He likely deserved more.
But Truehearts fuck me if I’m not happy he’s still alive. Even if he petrified me as Overseer Verant, and needled me every chance he could, in secret, during my months-long imprisonment.
I killed the vampiress he used to replicate me—the chronicler Kleora—and that has to count for something.
And now my revenge will be complete.
As I reach into his pants and feel his thick cock in my hand, my blood sings and I know my revenge is underway. He cannot stop me and he doesn’t dare try. Master Lukain simply takes everything I have to give him.
He tilts his head and slams his lips over my mouth, groaning into my throat as I furiously stroke him in his pants. He’s already nearing completion, but I can’t have that—not when I’ve waited so long for this.
When I pull back breathlessly from his lips, locking eyes, I see his skitter to the supple slope of my neck, the eager veins waiting for him.
“Take what you’ve craved all this time, Master. Take what will make you mine,” I command Lukain, “and learn what my other mates have discovered: You may be stronger than me . . . but it is not you who owns me.”
My implication is clear. My roguish smile guarantees it.
“Fuck have I missed you, little grimmer.”
He bends his head slightly. I wince at the cold touch of his fangs against my neck, mingled with his warm breath.
The years we have waited since we last did this . . . I don’t know if I would do the wait all over again to get to this moment, but it certainly makes the moment headier, stronger.
When his fangs puncture my skin, I let out a moan.
I feel the need of him pressing into my curves, his hard cock throbbing against the soft swell of my belly.
My arms wrap around his flexed middle, his corded muscles, and as he sucks blood from me, I suck on his ear and then lick the side of his face.
I desperately need touch from this man, after so long apart.
Lukain steps back in a haze, my blood trickling from his lips. He smiles, eyes bright and needful.
I shove him hard in the chest, forcing him to stumble back and flop onto the bed as the edge cuts his legs out from under him.
With my help, we quickly pull his pants down and I toss them aside. His hard cock lifts like a spear I can’t wait to ride. I straddle my former master, taking the dominant position so he understands who the mistress is now.
In the Firehold, he owned me. He commanded me.
In Manor Marquin, I am Lady Lock, and things will never be the same as they once were. Lukain taught me plenty, and now I will teach him some things.
First and foremost, I am not the broken girl I was in the Grimsons. I have been built back stronger thanks to my three mates, and if Lukain wishes to become my fourth, he has big boots to fill.
I don’t need foreplay from Lukain. Neither does he. I’m not sure if I’ve ever felt such a solidly hard cock in my hand as I hover over him, and I know drinking my blood has something to do with it. My cunt aches with need, wetness dripping down the insides of my thighs.
I shake his fat cockhead against my fat pussy lips, drawing out moans from us both. Then I sit on him, planting my ass down on his lap so I can ride the life out of the half-blood.
“Fuck, grimmer, you’re everything I remember and more,” he groans breathlessly.
“I am much more than you remember, Lukain.”
Leaning forward, my palms fall on his sturdy chest. I slam my ass down, sliding down his length and filling myself with his big cock. Right to the base I go, filled and stuffed by this dhampir, and he takes my forwardness with aplomb.
Lukain’s hands disappear under the curves of my round ass, and he bunches my soft flesh together in his hands. “So am I, Seph,” he promises with a gleam in his eye. He lifts my ass cheeks and bends his knees to give himself some leverage over my smothering ride.
Then the bastard steals my thunder as he starts hammering up into my pussy from below. His hard cock curves and slams just right, igniting sparks behind my lids as I moan incessantly and end up with my mouth falling open.
I feel the drool, the wetness building as it trickles from my lips. He’s just so good at this, it’s nothing like I remember from our first and only time together, years ago.
He knows I’m stronger now. I don’t need him like I used to—but I still want him worse than ever. He has to engrave himself on me, imprint the memory of him on me, if he wants to be taken seriously in this troop.
But damned if he isn’t making a good case for himself. My body bounces and jiggles on his lap, elevated and slightly angled for him to ram into my pussy with incredible speed and endurance. His jumping balls slap and clap loudly against my ass, carrying through the room and through its walls.
I come undone in minutes, tightening my grip on his chest by closing my fingers around his scarred skin.
The wave I’m riding is a high like I’ve never felt, and it shatters on a rocky bank of blood and desire.
As my Loreblood powers him to extremes he’s never known, it fills my body with warmth and heat that has my mind rolling off a cliff.
I bounce, I ride, and I slam down on him. We alternate between the possessor and the possessed, like two demons fucking in an underworld surrounded by shocked devils.
I bend low and slam my lips over him, even as he rails into me. His arms wrap around my curvy middle and hug my tits flat against his chest. The friction of my peaked nipples rubbing against him ignites a new sensation inside me. I moan in his mouth as he fucks me.
Then the world goes upside down and I gasp as our lips part and he pulls back—
Flipping me on the bed in a fluid motion that has my head spinning. Suddenly I’m staring up at the ceiling of the elegant bedroom, legs lifted to his shoulders. His cock never leaves me as he completes the flip, shaking me incessantly as we switch positions.
Now he’s on top, taking a commanding hold over me, and I live for it. Staring into his dark purple-red eyes only has me whimpering more. “Give it to me hard, Master. Fuck me with everything you have, everything you’ve missed!”
Lukain goes to his feet, crouching like a True-cursed gorilla on the bed. He puts me in a breeding position, pushing my legs back until my knees are pressing against my tits. I gasp when I look down my twisted body and see his hard cock angled down, halfway out of my cunt.
He drills down hard, hilting himself to the balls, and my head rolls back on a shout. “Fuck! Oh fuck!”
If any of my other mates are outside this room—or anywhere on the damned second level of the manor—I worry for what they might be thinking, hearing the fleshy, erotic, needful sounds emanating from this room.
With Lukain having me folded in on myself, he begins the smoldering, pussy-stuffing process of mating me. His cock plunges into me, hitting depths I’ve never felt from the man—something usually reserved for Skartovius’ or Vallan’s oversized cocks.
He keeps my legs shoved against my breasts, hands circling my ankles. My ass flattens every time he hammers into me, crouch-fucking the thoughts out of my head. I can’t stop moaning, and before long, I can’t stop coming.
Each loud orgasm only encourages him to fuck me harder through the sheen of wetness coating his cock.
Finally, Lukain lets out a roar, his body flexing, his veins popping incredibly on his enviable frame. Every vascular pulse of his arms, chest, and neck show in that moment of ecstasy.
My shouts join him, a drawn-out moan fit for the heavens, as Lukain buries his cock as deep inside me as it’ll go and wiggles his tight balls against my pussy lips.
His cum fills me, flooding my system, and it ignites a chain reaction that has my large ass cheeks twitching against his balls-deep climax as I come my brains out.
The explosion sets off a wave of relief and release, the valve opening inside me, and I squirt into his crouched body as we cry out together in sheer bliss.
Lukain only climbs off me once he’s dumped a river of cum inside my aching cunt. Even then, once he withdraws, he is hard as ever, dripping a mix of our wet arousal from the tip of his gorgeous, velvety cock.
I gasp for breath, sweaty and sex-craved, mindless and used, blinking up at the ceiling with my knees still perched against my spooled tits. “Truehearts and martyrs fuck me,” I breathe. “I’m going to have to see the apothecary after that display, Master.”
“Apothecary?” Lukain chuckles. He swipes a hand over my thigh, drops down to the foot of the bed, and goes to his knees.
When his head disappears between my thighs, and I can feel and hear him slurping his cum out of my gaping hole, sending me to another plane of existence . . . all I can do is roll my head back and try not to pass out from the blissfulness of it all.
His head appears, rugged and handsome as ever, dripping arousal from his glistening lips. “You can see the apothecary once I’m finished with you, little grimmer. But I’ve waited years for this, and you just freely gave me your blood. This evening is far from finished.”
I grin mischievously at him, readying myself as I stretch out and spread my legs.
I can’t say I’ve ever wanted something more.