by Sophie Stern
She didn’t know it was eating him up inside not to be able to do it.
Tonight he had to tell her about the past, about the events that led to this moment. Tonight he had to tell her about Harper, about his bride, about the way he had failed the woman he adored. Tonight he had to tell Celia everything and then he had to tell her just a little bit more.
Tonight he had to tell her, but first, he had to love her.
She stepped carefully, not quite used to the heels she was wearing. All of the other blood dolls were barefoot, but he wanted Celia uncomfortable and off balance tonight. He wanted her to be nervous, cautious. He wanted her to be paying attention.
Most of all, he wanted her to look like the queen she was to him.
She looked around the room at everything he had prepared for her. There were rows of food and blood laid out on tables. While the dolls were obviously available for entertainment and pleasure tonight, he did have some guests who preferred their blood from a bottle, so he had different types prepared in different ways so there would be something for everyone.
Celia’s eyes roamed the buffet tables and he laughed when they lingered on the chocolate fountain. Of course she would go for that. She didn’t realize it was infused with blood, but she’d find out soon enough when she went for a taste.
Fruit, meat sticks, and even desserts lined the area around the fountain. He’d had it designed just for her, just so she could see this party was meant to be extravagant, over-the-top, incredible. It was supposed to be the type of night a vampire never forgot. It was supposed to be the kind of night you couldn’t help but remember.
Celia kept moving further into the room. Her hair was down, flowing over her shoulders. Her black mask hid the upper portion of her face, but not her eyes. He’d know those eyes anywhere. Even if he was unfamiliar with her body, which he wasn’t, he’d know her sweet, blue-green gaze.
He watched the way she glided. Even in the heels, she was determined. She walked with grace and with a solidarity that couldn’t be matched.
And then she was there.
She was standing in front of him.
And he needed her.
“You’re beautiful.”
“I could say the same thing, but I think you might protest.”
“You can say whatever you like.”
“You’re beautiful,” she said. The word hung in the air between them for just a moment, then something shifted. Something changed. Everything changed.
He reached for Celia and pulled her close, then Samuel kissed her like she was the only one in the room. She wasn’t, of course. There were other vamps around kissing, hugging, touching, and dancing. They were all wearing masks and several were already starting to undress.
Samuel allowed his fingers to trace over her bare shoulders and down to the start of her dress. The black strapless gown was modest for a vampire ball, but he’d selected it especially for her. He’d hoped Celia would want to wear it for him. He’d hoped she would want to dress up for him, to be his little toy at the party.
As he kissed her, his dick got harder. He wanted to rip the dress off, tear it to shreds. He wouldn’t, not just yet. It wasn’t quite time because he had another surprise for her. The night would wear on a bit before he’d give her everything she needed, but he wouldn’t forget. Not tonight. Tonight was about letting Celia see the part of him few humans ever did. Even his dolls didn’t know what these nights meant to him.
“Come play with me,” Samuel said.
“Is that a request?”
“No.”
“All right,” she kissed him one last time, then Samuel guided Celia through the ballroom. Vamps and humans alike were dressed in dark shades of red and black. Some wore suits: some corsets. A few wore ball gowns and a couple wore Victorian dresses. Each attendee wore the perfunctory mask. It wasn’t really necessary: the mask. It was just a bit of fun, just something to mix things up, just something to make the night a little more enjoyable.
They pushed their way through the crowd, making the necessary greetings. When they were in the center of the room, the song changed and a spotlight came down on them.
“You planned this,” she said in surprise.
“I want to ask you something,” Samuel said. He didn’t kneel. This wasn’t a marriage proposal the way humans thought of marriage. This wasn’t some super-sweet moment where he’d promise to love only her, where he’d tell her she was the only woman he’d ever look at. This wasn’t a moment where he pledged monogamy. This was nothing like that.
“What is it?” Celia looked confused as the crowd quieted. Everyone turned to look at them: the master and mistress of Willowcroft Mansion.
“This isn’t just a masquerade.”
“Of course it is,” she said. “Look at everyone. They’re beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful, Celia.”
She looked up at Samuel like this was the first time she’d really heard what he had to say, like this was the first time anyone had told her what they thought of her. She looked at him like she’d never been taken care of before, like she was the last woman on Earth and he was her savior.
“I want you to be my queen,” he said.
Sixteen
She nodded.
She didn’t have words in that moment, didn’t have anything to say. She opened her mouth, but closed it again, pressing her lips tightly together. The words escaped her. She wanted to tell him she loved him. She wanted to tell him she’d do anything for him.
Somehow, it didn’t seem enough.
“Tell me yes,” Samuel said, stroking her cheek. All eyes were on her, but she wasn’t nervous. She never would be. Not with him. If anyone wanted to judge her, to give her trouble, to be weird around her, she knew Samuel would take care of her.
“Yes,” she said. The only thing she felt like tonight was a beautiful princess. She was floating and never wanted to come back down.
A cheer went up throughout the room as Samuel kissed her once more. Celia got the feeling it had been a long time since they’d seen this much excitement, but she was wise enough in the ways of vampires to know the night wasn’t over yet.
“We seal the promise here,” he told her. “But I won’t turn you until later.”
“You mean kill me,” she said.
“I’ll bring you back to life.”
“It might not work.”
“I have to try.”
His words were strained, almost pained, and she knew what he was thinking because she thought it, too. She couldn’t bear the thought of growing old and dying while he stayed behind. She couldn’t bear the thought of him living a lonely life in this lonely house with only the dolls for company. They’d keep him company, of course. They’d stay with him. It wouldn’t be the same, though. They wouldn’t love him the way she did.
They wouldn’t bring him to life.
She knew how changing worked. There were whispers in the mansion among both the living and the dead. It was the reason there were so few female vampires. Willowcroft had none at all. She would be the only one.
He had to drink from her, drain her to the point of death. Just before she passed, just seconds before she died, she would drink from him. If he waited too long, she wouldn’t turn. She would die and not come back. If he had her drink too soon, she would still die. The timing had to be perfect, at the last few beats of her heart, and no one knew exactly which beat it was.
There was a vampire who had turned his bride once. He waited until she had five beats left, then he did it. She drank from him. Five sips, five seconds, and she was his for eternity.
Would Samuel be able to do it?
Would he be able to save her again?
Would she be able to save him?
They would only have a few seconds and then it would be over. She would die. Somehow, Celia thought even if he didn’t bring her back, even if it was all for nothing, it would be worth it to die in his arms, to leave this world with his arms around her.
It was a strange feeling: that untainted trust, desire.
“It’s time for something else,” Samuel said. “Everyone is looking at you because you’re the most incredible thing they’ve ever seen.”
“I’m nervous,” she said, suddenly very aware of Jade, of Tasha, of Ariana. She was suddenly aware of everyone, even Gordon, watching her from the crowd. People she didn’t know and people she’d seen a thousand times were about to see how Lord Samuel treated his mistress.
They were about to see everything.
***
Samuel stepped forward and lifted his hand. His nails elongated as he moved his hand up. They grew, becoming longer than she’d ever seen them, and sharp.
“Don’t move,” he whispered. He slid a nail beneath the bodice of her dress and swiped downward. The thin fabric tore loudly as he reached for either side of the dress and pulled. In just a few seconds, she was bare before him. Celia wore only a thin black thong and her heels, which were entirely perfect for her.
They made her pale legs look even longer, even more delightful, even more enticing.
Samuel knelt in front of her, holding her waist. He gripped her, keeping her in place as he lowered himself down.
“What are you doing?” She asked.
“No more questions. Close your eyes. Just feel.” His own mask was in place as he knelt before Celia and pressed a soft kiss to her panties. She was already fucking soaked. He could smell her even through the panties. He could tell exactly what she wanted, what she was thinking.
She needed him more than she would ever know, maybe even more than he needed her, though Samuel wasn’t quite sure if that was possible.
Celia obeyed Samuel immediately. Her eyes fluttered shut, then squeezed tightly closed. He thought she’d never looked quite so sweet as when she submitted to him this way. His hands slid up and down her legs, gripping her bottom and trailing down her thighs once more.
A song played loudly. He couldn’t place it. He knew he’d heard it before: he’d chosen every musical track by hand, after all, but he wasn’t sure what he was hearing now. All of the voices, all of the murmurs, all of the whispers of encouragement faded into the background as he knelt before his beautiful doll.
Everything vanished from his mind but the sound of her breathing, but the way she licked her lips, but the way she stood perfectly still with her legs spread just a little bit.
Samuel leaned forward, pushed himself deeper into her body, into her scent. His tongue lapped at her body over her panties. She sucked in a breath as he got to her clit, pressing his lips over her.
“More,” she whispered. Her hands gripped his hair and he relished the feeling of her in this moment. She was taking what she wanted, asking for what she needed, urging him to give her just a little bit more.
Samuel slid his teeth over the edge of the fabric and tugged, pulling her panties down with his mouth. His teeth grazed her skin as he brought her panties to her knees. Then he slowly kissed up to her thigh.
She spread her legs a little more.
“You know what’s going to happen,” he asked.
She nodded. Her femoral artery was close: so close he could smell the blood pumping through her thigh. He could hear it. Her pulse was fast, excited. She wanted this just as much as he did.
And if Celia was serious about being his mistress, as he knew she was, this would be the one of the last times he fed from her as a human.
His canines elongated and he rubbed them against her skin. She held perfectly still, suddenly nervous.
“Are you scared?” He looked up at her. Celia was watching him. Her hands hadn’t left his hair. A golden strand dangled in his eyes and she brushed it back.
“I’m never scared when I’m with you,” she said.
“You should be,” he growled.
He bit her then, hard and fast. She gasped, squeezing his hair tightly with her soft little hands. As the first rush of blood slipped over his tongue, Samuel knew he was a goner. He’d never be able to have enough of Celia. How he’d gone this long without her, he didn’t know. He only knew he needed more: more of her, more of this. He wanted everything she had to give him. He wanted every bit of her essence.
The blood poured from her body, coursing over his lips and into his mouth. She tasted like a sweet wine, perfectly aged. She tasted like magic, like power. She tasted like the sweetest thing he’d ever had and her blood poured into his belly.
He stopped then, before he took too much. She didn’t know how hard it was not to lose control with her. She had no idea how much he wanted to just keep drinking. It wasn’t that he wanted to drain her life away or anything morbid or wrong or sick. It wasn’t like that with Celia. It was just that she was too sweet. If he didn’t get inside of her now, right now, he was going to keep drinking.
He sealed her leg with a swipe of his tongue. His saliva worked its magic, closing the wound quickly and completely. She didn’t even have a scar. Not even a scab. That was one of the best things about being a creature of the darkness, he thought: healing properties. Most people knew vampires were strong and powerful, but few realized there were other benefits besides strength that came from being a monster.
He could heal.
The song changed and he swept Celia into his arms. The crowd didn’t diminish or leave. If anything, more vamps and humans gathered around to see what Samuel would do next.
A few knew exactly what he had planned.
He carried Celia to a large table that stood to the side of where they were. He placed her on it.
“It’s cold,” she squeaked, and he just laughed.
“Are you ready?” He smiled.
“What are you going to do to me?”
“Does it matter? I thought you weren’t scared.”
“I’m a little scared.”
“Good. Get on all fours.” He waited for her to comply. It didn’t take long. Celia waited only a second before quickly turning around and presenting her ass to him. She was beautiful: shaved and bare. He pushed her head forward so her top half was pressed against the table.
She breathed heavily. She really was nervous again, which he enjoyed more than he should have. Perhaps when he was a human, Samuel would have cared more about his dark desires. Maybe he would have been ashamed at his desire to scare a woman like Celia. Maybe he would have been nervous about the need to dominate, to control. Now that he was a vampire, though, he didn’t. He didn’t try to hide himself in that way. He simply owned it.
He owned who he was.
He owned the control, the needs he had. He could handle who he was and what he had become. He thought Celia could, too. It wasn’t often he found a woman who was able to bare her soul to a monster like him, but he had found her. More accurately, Gordon had found her. Samuel needed to give that fucker a raise.
“Don’t move,” he told Celia. Her face was turned to the side and she closed her eyes, squeezing them shut. It was just as well. She didn’t need to see what was about to happen. It might frighten her even more.
Samuel ran his hand down her spine and over her bottom, parting her cheeks. He traced a finger along her soft slit before plunging it inside of her.
“Oh!” Celia squeaked, but she didn’t move.
“Good girl,” he murmured, running his hands through her hair. Her mask was still on, but he removed it.
“What are you doing?” She asked.
“You aren’t anonymous anymore,” he told her. “Not now and not ever again. You’re mine now. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“I can do whatever I want with you.”
“Yes.”
“And tonight, what I want is for our guests to enjoy you, my queen.”
Her eyes popped open at that, but she didn’t protest.
“No one is going to hurt you,” he said. “Tonight is all about your pleasure.”
“Don’t leave me,” she whispered.
“Don’t make a sound,” he responded.
&nbs
p; Seventeen
Celia held still. Her eyes were glued to Samuel, who stood beside her. She thought he was going to leave her. She thought he was going to test her somehow, but he didn’t leave. He stayed. His hands were in her hair and his mouth was on hers, but then he pulled away and she felt the first touch.
It was gentle.
She couldn’t see who was stroking her skin, but she thought it might be a female, judging from the soft touch. The strokes grew harder and faster, but it wasn’t quite enough to make her come. Then the touching stopped and she opened her mouth to protest, but Samuel kissed her.
His lips silenced hers, then he whispered to her.
“I hope you weren’t about to talk, doll. You know I asked you to stay quiet, to do this for me.”
Celia pressed her mouth closed. Then she waited. A few seconds later, she felt more hands on her, more people touching her. There were two hands on her legs and one between her thighs. Someone stroked her back and another person traced tiny lines on her toes.
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax into the touches. Some of them were soft and some were more forceful, but they were all gentle. They were all controlled. She imagined Samuel was in charge of how much each person was allowed to touch her. She thought maybe he was silently guiding how long each person could play with her body.
She wasn’t embarrassed. She allowed herself to just feel. She allowed herself to just be. Celia wanted to come, wanted to climax. She felt the need welling up inside of her, but each time she got close, the touches stopped. Over and over again she reached the brink of coming only to be brought down immediately.
Somehow, she managed not to cry out. It was harder than she’d ever thought possible. It was more difficult than anything else she’d ever done in her life. She couldn’t imagine having to go on like this, to be in a state of perpetual arousal without being able to feel release.