Table of Contents
Anastasia Romanov
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Epilogue
Anastasia Romanov
The sequel to the Romanov Sisters
SVETLANA IVANOVA
Copyright © 2013 Svetlana Ivanova
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1978235216
ISBN-13: 978-1978235212
DEDICATION
For my LGBT community
Chapter 1
In Greek, "nostalgia" literally means "the pain from an old wound". It's a twinge in your heart, far more powerful than memory alone. It is a time machine. It goes backward and forward. It takes us to a place we ache to go again.
One of the strangest things about living is that there is only the now, but we all seem to be wrapped up in the past and wandering aimlessly in the present, yet always wondering about the future.
I brushed another light stroke of wet paint over the white canvas. My hand started trembling again as it always did when I thought of her. Every time I tried to finish the portrait, emotions would come rushing through my veins like the black ink over the whiteness of a thin paper.
Overwhelmed by past memories, my mind lost its focus. I dropped the paintbrush on the floor with a frustrated sigh. Her gorgeous brown eyes were too vivid in my mind, yet all my skills couldn’t bring them to life.
Since what happened back in Russia, I found myself roaming from city to city. But even if I could go as far as the end of the earth, I still couldn't escape the nostalgia.
"Why are you still up, Your Highness?" a feminine voice said from the bed.
I turned around to look at the naked girl smiling sweetly at me. Another girl next to her was also staring with her bright violet eyes. Their seductive smiles shone through the darkness of the room.
I walked over to the liquor table and reached for a wine bottle. I didn't bother to pour it into the glass and just drank the burning red juice straight from the bottle. The wine tasted sweet against my tongue.
One of the girls with dark flowing hair rose from the bed and floated towards me. The other one did the same. All bare and desperate for my attention.
"Please, come back to bed with us," the girl with brown hair spoke softly. The brown-haired one was my favorite. Each came to my sides and stroked my arms sensually.
I kept swallowing my drink and closed my eyes. Alcohol and sex were two things I relied on to kill the pain. They kept my mind off things, at least for a short while.
I took another gulp of wine and then turned to the dark hair girl.
"Kneel," I said.
The girl quickly obeyed and got down to her knees. Without further instruction, her tiny delicate hands worked their ways over my pants.
I put the wine bottle down and turned to the second girl and pulled her by the back of her head a bit roughly. Her face flushed, already anticipating my touch. I finally pressed my wet lips against her waiting mouth and devoured her in a deep hard kiss. She moaned excitedly in my hand.
I felt a warm slithering tongue of the girl kneeling on the floor. My pants were undone. My private was exposed. I looked down and grabbed a fistful the girl's silky hair, guiding her clever tongue to where I needed most. The other one kept nuzzling my neck and stroking my breasts.
I sighed in contentment and leaned my head back.
That was all I needed for now.
Flowing hair cascaded on the sheets like lapping waves of silk, perfect cat-like brown eyes fluttered under my kisses as I trailed them from her elegant neck to her porcelain cheek. Her silken nightgown felt like water over the curves, but the heat from my nakedness spilled through the bed like lava. This was the lovely warmth we could produce when we made love.
Her perfect maroon lips were begging to be kissed, devoured even, and I yearned to suckle her warm lips in that same passionate touch.
I was stronger, but the girl beneath me made every bone in my body weak. So much more powerful as she laced our fingers together and pierced our souls into one.
We tasted and caressed, feeling intoxicated by love and pleasure all at once.
"You're beautiful, Avery," I whispered huskily in her ear, lost in a daze. "All of you, everything."
I wanted to see that beauty contort under me, melt through my kisses and tremble from my needs.
"And so are you," she said breathlessly back, "You'll have all I can give you, my perfect love, my precious... Alexandra."
The word echoed in my ears like I was inside a huge bell. Then I woke up with a start. My heart drummed in my chest. Suddenly, I felt ashamed, ashamed and frustrated with the stupid lucid dream of my former love. I couldn't take it anymore.
"After all these years, Anastasia," I sighed to myself. "Why can’t I forget her?”
Chapter 2
I left the exciting and lustful life in Rio De Janeiro and came to Paris with a fancy invitation from someone who claimed to be a nephew of King Louis XIII of France.
At first, I did not plan to be there as I had ignored all sorts of interactions with the royal class and other aristocrats, but I remembered how the very name of Paris had brought a rush of excitement to me in the past. And considered that there were no other places I could let my uneventful stretch of existence loose anyway. I decided to make France my next sojourn.
If things got boring there, I could just return to America and find somewhere to spend a tiny portion of my eternity there, or go around those ghost cities like a lost soul I always was and party with those fine beauties like I always had.
I stood on my bedroom balcony, looking at the distorted Eiffel Tower, which bent slightly to the south. After the war, the tower now looked like a skeleton of a dead soldier who refused to fall. Colossal buildings, massive cathedrals, and grand palaces were reoccupied by the New Government, much like Russia and anywhere else around the world.
Like Moscow, Paris used to be a whole universe in herself— elegant and fashioned by history, always seemed timeless from the age of Emperor Napoleon. Now everything was just the remaining ashes of the horrible war.
Château de Versailles was my next adventure for tonight. The palace hosted a feast almost every month.
I LOOKED THROUGH THE dark tint window of the car as we drove through vast courtyards and giant fountain in front of the elegant building. When our limousine stopped, the door at my side opened and I stepped out into the freezing air. Behind me walked my guards who dressed in formal black suits. Estella and Claire, the two vampire women, whom I came to favor during the last few weeks, also accompanied me. They were fine porcelain beauties, and I could hear the rustle of their velvety dresses a
nd fur coats as we strolled along the red-carpeted avenue of the Versailles.
Then a group of royal French guards escorted a tall dark-haired man who smiled as he floated into view. He twisted his curved mustache and adjusted his expensive suit when he reached me. His bright golden eyes gleamed and his skin glowed like most well-fed high class.
"Bonsoir! Grande-Duchesse Anastasia de Russie!" he said and bowed, taking my hand in his and kissing it, but then he paused as if to think of something. The man cleared his throat again and spoke in a poor imitation of the Russian accent, "Menya zavut Jean-Phillip."
"I can speak French," I said it in his native tongue. Jean let out a forced sigh of surprise.
"Wonderful!" he said. "I knew you are a sophisticated and well-educated young woman! Such a lovely honor to have you as my guest tonight, Your Highness."
"Thank for inviting me, too," I said. "I brought my friends along. Hope you don't mind."
"Ah non! My pleasure, Grand Duchess. The more, the merrier." He said with a chuckle. "Now please come along this way and join our banquet. I have prepared special dessert just for you."
My face twitched a little, disliking the way the word 'dessert' sounded in my ears, but I brushed it off. We followed the man down the Grand Hall and into what appeared to be an enormous ballroom. A world of frescoes and murals surrounded us— their colors deep and vibrant above the dance floor.
The dark-haired vampire touched my hand and led me further. Much like that evening I entered Notre-Dame, women, and men of all shapes and sizes twirled around to the classical music. Tables and cushioned chairs around the hall. Some vampires were drinking red liquid of fine Bordeaux mixed with fresh blood. I could smell the scent of humans and sex thick in the air.
Then I motioned to the guards and they moved away. My maidens looked like they couldn't wait to have their moments. Their dark violet eyes blazed at the thrilling sight.
"Your Highness, please follow me. You must be thirsty and perhaps would like a few drinks," Jean spoke again and steered us towards a large couch with a long coffee table overflowed with food and drink. Several young boys and girls lay waiting around the carpeted floor. Instead of being afraid, these humans stared at me with excited eyes. Some smiled and blushed openly.
"You really know how to host a feast, Jean," I said, making the man laughed. He spread his arms and looked around the place.
"What's not to love, Grand Duchess?" he said. “Everyone is here to serve you.”
I smiled at him. Estella looped her arm around mine possessively, already looking jealous.
"Please don't forget about us, Your Highness," she whispered in my ear. "I won't share you with anyone else."
"You do share me with her," I said, pointing to Claire.
"She's my sister! That doesn't count" Estella protested.
"Alright, I promise." I tipped her chin up and gave her a peck and smiled.
Far away in the Paris night, a bell chimed. But now I could only focus on the intoxicating hot aroma from those youthful veins. Jean beckoned to a girl and she came towards me. The Frenchman nodded in encouragement and then he bowed away, leaving me to my joyous abundance. Estella and Claire took a boy and a girl for themselves. They didn't waste a moment to enjoy their humans. The host moved like a shadow around the ballroom, chatting and laughing with his guests.
The singing and dancing continued. The French walked me to the couch and sat me down. Her light green eyes were fearless and excited. She leaned in and wrapped her delicate arms around my neck.
"I have heard so many things about you," she said bravely. Her voice carried sweet seduction and delicious scent. I gave her a tiny smile.
"Oh what did they say about me?"
"They talk non-stop about your divine beauty and your kind and generous heart." She smiled and played with my blonde hair. "I have been secretly longing to see you and wishing that I could be lucky enough to serve your needs. Now it's like a dream comes true."
She was pressing her soft round breasts into my arm, offering herself to me. I felt the pulsing of her sex against my leg and smiled at her lovely face.
"But I might not be so kind," I spoke as she raised her thigh and placed it over my lap, revealing her bare bum from under her short skirt.
"Oh I don't believe you," she said in a sultry voice. "You have to prove it."
"Then come here," I said and the girl didn't hesitate to move over, straddling fully on my lap and pressing her flat tummy against mine.
"Yes, Your Highness?" she whispered longingly.
And I sank my teeth into her smooth neck. Her body went rigid for a moment before she relaxed again. My bite injected her with a rush of euphoria. She moaned and gasped as my mouth sucked and drew the source of life from her body. After a moment, I pulled away with a satisfied grunt.
"Yum." I smiled.
"Oh god, you're so naughty," the dazed human girl whispered and bent down to lick my blood-stained lips.
I chuckled softly and stuck out my tongue for her to suckle on. This lustful state was luring me in, and I couldn't wait to set myself free again.
Chapter 3
The misty air around the ballroom had thickened with more scent of alcohol and the smell of fresh blood. The golden light had dimmed down, making the atmosphere even more appealing.
I watched the vampires enjoy their feast and music, laughing and talking nonsense to one another.
Before I knew it, Jean and Estella had become each other's company. Each had a human slave by their sides, ready to serve their needs. I was too preoccupied by my own lust to even care.
The girl sitting on my lap began to move herself, gently rubbing her heated private against me. She bravely took my face in her hands.
"I want you to have more of me."
The punctured skin on her neck had stopped bleeding and healed. The only thing that reminded me of my feeding was the traces of red blood that smeared our lips when we kissed.
“Who’s the naughty one now?” I said in a raspy voice.
"Your Highness, please," she coaxed again softly, giving me a pouty look. Her hand played with the button of my blouse. "This is my first time seeing you in person and also my luck to be your servant. Anyone would be jealous. They wish to be in my place right now. Who doesn't want to be with the beautiful Russian princess?"
I chuckled and squeezed her round little bum, pulling her into me closer.
"What's your name, girl?" I asked, staring into her light green eyes.
"Lyra."
"Mmm...Lyra," I mused, cupping her chin in my hand. "You have no idea what kind of a princess I am. But I couldn't say 'no' to such a face."
Before she could reply, my hand was already slithering under her short plaid skirt, and my touch on her smooth skin made her eyelids flutter and her breaths hitch.
One of my hands stroked her thigh and then went further to her secret place. The girl shivered in my arms.
When I reached her golden mound, my face broke into a wide grin. I was amused by the dew point of her wet cotton panties. Lyra sighed and closed her eyes as my fingers traced gently along her softness.
"Ohh...my..." she sighed again and bit her bottom lip while I stared up at her flushed face. Her neck tilted back, exposing her newly healed skin. I could see her pulse beat in excitement.
"Is this your first time?" I asked.
"No." She blushed and breathed harder. "My master has had me before, but it wasn't very...oh god."
She felt my fingers slithered inside her panties and eased it aside. I smiled at her cold slippery wetness that concentrated between her parted legs. The great amount of her nectar dripped and coated my hand within seconds.
This innocent-looking human girl did know how to work herself for me, and that made me feel even more wickedly amused.
"I’m afraid I’m not quite patient today," I warned Lyra. "Let's just see how long you could handle me."
Claire's voice called from another table, "By the look on her face, I bet she w
on't last three minutes." I turned my head to her. She had a glass of wine in one hand while her other hand was grabbing a mob of brunette hair of another girl kneeling between her opened thighs.
“Look away, pervert,” I said.
Estella laughed. She had just finished feeding on a healthy-looking boy. A daze look lingering on his face made me a bit worried that he might die, but I knew it was stupid to care. This wasn’t my first orgy with those lusty blood suckers, and I was just one of them.
I turned back and smiled at Lyra, who now desperately wanted my invasion of her sweet territory.
"Let's play this game then, shall we?" I said. Lyra’s eyes sparkled with wanton needs. It made me pity her a little.
I began to pull off her shirt, following by supple kisses on her soft glowing skin. Goose bumps spread across the area of her creamy chest once my cold lips made contact with her warm body.
When her pale breasts were bared, I devoured them to the point she couldn't suppress her moans. She didn't even notice her panties was being shredded and slipped away until I fished it out from under her short skirt.
Lyra gasped and latched onto my shoulders for balance. She ran her fingers through my golden locks then looked down at her right nipple being softly tugged between my lips and teeth.
I could hear her heart making excited skips from my teasing and devouring. Her breath hovered.
"Ready?" I asked with a soft, playful grin. The tips of my fingers slowly but surely pressed into her sensitive garden, exploring and teasing my way through her soppy petals.
Lyra's heaving chest temporarily halted. Her eyes watered from the pleasures. Lyra was already near begging, but she tried to bite her lips.
"No holding back now, sweet Lyra," I giggled against her arching breasts.
Then I tightened my arm around her small waist to secure her, knowing that she was going to have trouble keeping still. As she witnessed the glimmer of mischief in my slightly glowing eyes, the girl began to understand what wickedness I had planned for her. It made the French maiden hesitant for a moment, but it was like a lamb trying to escape from a lioness.
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