Chapter 3 | Sephania
Sephania
It turns out Noblewife Aelin has no interest in catching up on old times. I’m grateful for it, and incredibly tired.
There’s something disconcerting and strange about this old abandoned-looking castle in the woods.
The darkness of it, even once inside. The smell of it, brisk pine floorboards creaking alongside the bitter scents of stone and leather, as if nature is offended at the builder’s gall to craft such an unnatural structure in its forested bosom.
The old sounds of the place, painfully loud with every footfall across the floorboards both upstairs and down, keep me alert and wide-eyed. I’m given a room from a mute vowager and after thanking her, I’m left to my own devices.
I thought I would pass out the moment my head hit the cot. That’s not the case. Instead, I can’t stop my mind from humming along, thinking about the exhausting evening we’ve had. I can’t stop my ears from taking in every sound beyond the door of my small room.
Vallan’s words trickle back to me, smoldering my imagination as I wonder if he plans to barge in and make good on his promise of showing me how “necessary” it is to have his huge hands and body draped all over mine.
The lewd thoughts fill me and make me wish I was filled with something else. Sighing to myself in my bed, I begin to slide my hands between my legs in hopeful preparation for Vallan bursting through the door.
My eyes get droopy the longer I wait, the more I dig my fingers into my wet pussy and grind my clit with the heel of my palm.
I’m just about to either crash out or explode in a ball of desirous fire when the walls of the ancient structure begin groaning incessantly. It starts low at first, as if the castle is coming alive. And it never stops.
My heart starts to race. My hands slide out of me, sticky and wet with arousal. I grab my sword belt against the bed, sit up, and pad on bare feet through my room. My brow is so threaded and scrunched I feel it’ll stick that way forever if I don’t find out what’s going on.
Cautiously, I exit my room. The halls are dark and still, yet that soft sound continues—thump, thump, thump.
With goosebumps breaking out along my flesh, I steel myself and slide quietly down the hall. My throat is dry, my heart rattling in my ribcage.
The sound grows louder as I reach a room down the hall and around the corner, near the kitchens. The door is slightly ajar here, and a soft glow of candlelight flickers out into the hallway, guiding me to it like I’m nothing more than a fluttering, confused moth.
When I reach the cracked door, I’m about to open it to investigate the source of the sound when the sight of it stops me dead in my tracks. It’s late, I’m tired, and I have to squint through the initial glare of lit candles before my eyes attune and bulge wider.
Aelin is on her hands and knees on the single bed in the room.
She’s naked, her shift thrown aside, her bulging, pregnant belly swaying as she rocks back and forth.
From my angle at the door, I can see everything: her large breasts swinging like pendulums, filled with a mother’s milk; her hips, widened from when I knew her in our youth, clutched by small pale hands.
Palacia mounts her from behind, also stark naked in the warm room.
She’s clutched onto Aelin’s raised ass and hips, sliding Aelin forward and back on the vampirex’s disproportionately large cock.
Pala lets out small girlish sounds as she impales the noblewife of the manor, rutting into her so effortlessly it’s like she was made for the deed.
Mindless in her movements, absurd in the way she stretches the poor noblewoman’s cunt from behind while pumping forward on her tiptoes.
Palacia hugs Aelin’s rumbling ass against her small frame.
She becomes lost in the taller woman’s body, pressing her cheek against the small of Aelin’s back.
With her legs slightly parted, I’m presented with an incredibly detailed view of the interfolk’s heavy balls swinging between her narrow thighs.
As my lips part, my feet rooted to the floor and my heartbeat making it impossible to breathe, my eyes swivel to the other side of the bed—an area I missed at first through the cracked door.
There, Tymon Aldion stands, his pants dropped to his ankles. He fists his cock furiously as he watches my friend defile his wife before his eyes. His pregnant wife, not far from giving the demilord his third child.
While the cuckold lord of the manor strokes his cock urgently, he speaks in low words to the duo making the bed and entire castle shake from their moans and rhythm. “Is she as big as you remember, sweet wife?”
My bulging eyes somehow grow wider. My jaw falls open. I unconsciously find my hands slithering between my legs, ready to begin what I’d started in my chambers as I shamelessly watch the debacle.
This is not the first time I’ve seen Palacia rutting.
Whether unfortunately or fortunately, I’ve seen the blessed interfolk girl’s equipment and how she uses it, back in the Firehold when we were both Grimsons.
Back when we were both human. But never have I seen her use her enviable tool on Aelin.
She isn’t the friend of mine who was hurt by the slutty bitch, either.
I wasn’t aware they even knew each other back then.
“As big as you remember” is news to me. I suppose it should come as no surprise, because Aelin was a raunchy girl even when we were younger, and would regularly claim a majority of the Grimsons men for herself.
Now, she is evidently reliving old times. Not with me, thankfully, but with the quaint girl Palacia, who I can only imagine was incorrigibly seduced during the latter portion of this night by the pregnant noblewife.
“Somehow she’s—ugh—she’s even b-bigger in death, husband,” Aelin croaks in her sultry tone run through with lust. She rams her ass back on Palacia’s body, nearly bowling the smaller vampirex over with the force of it.
Pala digs into her hips and thrusts harder, rewarded with another squelching slap of her swinging balls against Aelin’s flesh and another raucous moan from Aelin’s lips.
The noblewife rests her forehead on the bed, raising her ass, letting Palacia plow as deep as she’ll go.
There’s no way she can take all of her—not with her bloated belly so precarious—but she gives it her best. To her credit, Palacia seems lost in the mindless thrusting of someone who has done this far too often.
I briefly recall the initial hesitance from Tymon Aldion when he laid eyes on Palacia at the front door of the manor. I had expected some sort of hesitation, maybe hate and disgust at the sight of a transitioned vampire. Not this.
I bite my lip, listening and unabashedly continuing to watch the lewd activity play out in full speed, at full volume. My clit throbs with need, my juices trickling down the insides of my thighs.
“If she weren’t already pregnant, I’d say you were trying to give my wife a fourth child!” Tymon laughs heartily. He groans as his erect cock twitches in his hand—so much smaller than the slender vampire fucking his wife.
“I won’t sit right for a fortnight,” Aelin groans back, clenching the sheets of her bed. She wails, the sound echoing into the hallway.
Tymon goes stiff and sprays cum across their bodies, walking closer so he can rope them with his seed—a splash across Aelin’s ass, another across Palacia’s hip. “Then let me help you along, dear wife,” he snarls, and then stands beside Palacia’s shorter frame.
I inhale sharply, abruptly worrying for my friend’s safety. Then Demilord Aldion clutches Palacia’s big soft balls from the back, lightly fondling, and slides his fingers into her asshole.
Pala sighs and stuffs Aelin full, her cheeks going concave and her body stiffening as Tymon fingers her from behind, urging her to finish inside his wife.
“Seems you’ve found the wrong room, silverblood,” comes a brooding voice down the hall.
My brain nearly shuts off from the surprise of the voice, and I spin and back away from the door like a whelp caught with her hand where it shouldn’t be.
Vallan Stellos approaches, his huge frame sucking up all the light from the cracked door. The frolickers inside the room are too loud and enthused by their passions to hear my squeak or the sounds of the floorboards creaking from Vall’s massiveness.
“Finally,” I breathe, and he takes me into his arms.
I instinctively grind my body against his as he envelops me, shielding me from the world and swaddling me in muscle and darkness.
“I have a better room for you,” he mutters.
I nod endlessly, unable to form words. My throat is dry, the rest of me is wet and needy from what I’ve just witnessed. Inside the room, Palacia, Aelin, and Tymon reach a crescendo, their voices mingling into a cacophony of moans and wet, slapping flesh.
I want it. But not with them.
Vallan understands. He whisks me away from the madness, down the hall, carrying me into the darkness from whence I came.
Backing me into a random room, my lips are over his the moment the door closes. His hands skitter down my sides, drawing my nightgown off my shoulders so he can palm my heavy breasts in his hands.
For once, his hands aren’t gloved, and his touch is rough and needful. He teases my hard nipples and takes my tits into his mouth, one after the other.
“This is y-your room?” I mumble against his firm lips as he holds and swallows me.
“I think,” he answers, and I can’t help but snicker.
Truehearts forgive us if he just backed us into the first room he saw. I wouldn’t blame him.
The heat from the room with the cuckolding trio threads into this dark chamber, of which there is no bed. Vallan and I don’t need a bed. He’s perfectly fine bumping my big ass against the closest piece of furniture—a shelf, in this case—and taking what he’s owed.