by Sofia Daniel
Balancing my weight with one palm, I slid my fingers between my slick folds and rubbed up and down my aching, pulsing clit.
Raphael moaned. “You look so beautiful like that.”
I clenched my teeth and continued giving them a show. My core pounded, and heat rushed to my folds. I despised them so much.
Pouring every ounce of hatred and resentment into my fingers, I rubbed and circled my nub, hoping they were wrong about not being able to climax without their permission.
Warm air swirled around my wet, naked body, and sweat beaded across my brow. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see each boy caressing himself under the water. I would have turned my head to get a better look, but I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.
Sparks of pleasure ignited from my clit, which fed the fires of my core. Harsh, ragged breaths heaved in and out of my lungs, making my head spin. I couldn’t take much more of this mounting pleasure, this heightened arousal. Couldn’t they take pity on me and utter a few words to end my torment.
“She’s so hot for us,” said Raphael with wonder in his voice.
“Hot and wet,” added Dante. “Just like a slut.”
I continued rubbing myself. Maybe one of them would say the words and put me out of my misery.
“One day, I’m going to graze that clit with my fang and drink you,” said Nero. “How would you like that?”
Clenching my teeth, I shook my head. “No biting.”
“Of course she would,” said Dante.
Raphael’s eyes widened, and he pumped himself harder. “Is that what you want, Alicia?” his breaths quickened. “The three of us filling you with our cocks and fangs?”
“No,” I cried out.
Nero chuckled and stroked himself at a steady pace. “Still trying to be coy.”
“There’s no shame in being a whore,” said Dante, his voice quickening. “No shame in wanting your masters to bite you and feed on you. That’s what you’re good for, isn’t it?”
I shook my head. The fingers over my clit moved at a frantic pace. I was about three strokes away from climaxing on my own, and I wouldn’t let their hateful words distract me.
“You’ll nourish us with your blood until the end of your days,” Nero groaned.
Dante laughed. “Except for the times you’re breeding.”
“No.” I cried out.
“Yes!” growled Nero. “And the best part is that you’ll love every moment.”
“Never.”
My legs trembled with the force of the pleasure thunder bolting from my core to my inner thighs, building in intensity as if it had no outlet. I clenched my teeth and continued rubbing my clit.
Still stroking his erection, Dante waded closer and brought his full lips to my ear. In a low, sexy voice, he murmured, “Then why does the sound of becoming our blood whore and broodmare make you cum?”
At the command in Dante’s voice, all the pressure imploded, releasing wave after wave of pleasure. My core muscles spasmed so hard, it almost hurt, and I collapsed on the marble floor, jerking and spasming to an orgasm so powerful, I thought I would shatter into a million pieces.
Afterward, Dante pulled me back into the water and into his arms. As I lay limp in agains his chest, recovering from the aftershocks, he ran a washcloth over my body. I really didn’t understand him. One minute, he talked to me as though I was filth, then the next, he took care of me as if I was something precious.
Now that I’d given the boys what they wanted—my servitude, my submission, my complete and utter humiliation—I hoped they would leave me to attend classes on my own.
Chapter 7
After Dante had dried me off and wrapped me in a fluffy dressing gown, he let me sleep off the effects of the bonding ceremony on the leather chaise. I closed my eyes and let the magic settle low in my belly.
What was it Raphael had said? I’d bound myself into sexual servitude, which would probably mean that they would withhold my orgasms anytime they wanted me to do something, like offer them my blood.
I swallowed hard and tried to nap. Right now, I needed the onion woman more than ever. If I couldn’t find her, then I would have to visit the library and figure things out… As soon as I got away from the Stryx brothers.
Someone knocked on the door. I cracked an eye open to find Raphael letting a male knocker inside who looked just like the man I’d met in the dungeon on my first night here. He had the same blank-eyed stare as the others in his predicament, making my heart twist. How had the onion woman broken out of her enchanted state after Dracula had condemned her to this fate?
“Start a fire, please,” said Raphael. “Place the contents of the red trunk into the flames. After everything has been burned, clear the ashes and scatter them in the edges of the estate.”
The knocker bowed and walked to the fireplace, where he picked up large pieces of firewood.
I closed my eyes again, wondering if the red trunk contained the uniform Nero had stolen from my bathroom and the footage of me staking Micalla. The magic of my concubine bond wrapped around me like a warm blanket and pulled me into sleep.
Hours later, warm, gentle hands stroked the side of my face. My eyelids fluttered open, and I stared into Raphael’s forest-green eyes. He knelt at the side of my chaise, fully dressed, and looking like a red-haired angel.
“Did you sleep well?” He pressed a kiss on my temple. “I still can’t believe our luck that you consented to become ours.”
Nero stood over us, his dark eyes glimmering with amusement. Even if Raphael wanted to delude himself and romanticize my slavery, Nero, Dante, and I knew that there was no consent whatsoever in our arrangement.
“Dinner time,” said Nero.
Ignoring Raphael, I stretched and yawned. My hair was no longer wet and encased in towels, and I no longer wore the fluffy dressing gown. In its place was a better quality version of the school uniform. A white silk blouse, silk tie with a matching black wool skirt and blazer.
“Where did these clothes come from?” I couldn’t keep my eyes off my uniform. It made me look like Micalla, Juno, and the Preta twins.
Raphael beamed. “I dressed you.”
My insides cringed with disgust. What did Raphael think I was, his blow-up doll?
Nero’s eyes glinted with cruel amusement. “Aren’t you going to show your gratitude?”
I forced a smile and turned to Raphael, who still knelt at my side. “Thank you, master.”
His eyes softened. “Please, call me Raph.”
Masturbator was far more apt for this copper-headed asshole. I shook my head. “Now that I’ve accepted my place, it would be much easier to call you master.”
Raphael’s face fell. He drew back, looking like a disappointed puppy and gave me space to rise on my own.
Nero shot me a look that warned me against hurting his brother, and I kept my features neutral and acted as though I hadn’t noticed either of their expressions. If they wanted to blame someone for not calling them by their first names, they could look to Dante.
Dante strolled out from behind one of the doors and examined a cufflink. He flipped back his blond hair and straightened his blazer. “Ready for dinner?”
Nero turned toward his brother. “Let’s go.”
Raphael offered me his hand and pulled me out of the chaise. “Are you hungry?”
I rubbed my belly. “Actually, I’m still quite full.”
As Nero opened the door, he turned around and smirked. “You’re a very fortunate frumosi. Swallowing three royal varieties of vampire cum in one sitting. Most girls are lucky to taste one in their lifetimes.”
I gave him a bland smile, making him narrow his eyes. He wanted a fight so he could do something to intimidate me and get us both riled up. Hadn’t he once said he liked my fighting spirit? Thanks to his machinations, it was now deeply hidden.
Raphael threaded his fingers through mine and held my hand as we walked through the hallways, while the other two brothers strode in
front.
Students, vampire and frumosi, made double takes as they passed. I wasn’t sure why. It was already common knowledge that I’d agreed to become their concubine.
At the double doors of the dining room, Dante and Nero paused, giving its occupants time to stop talking and to admire them. I made a mental note of their vanity and hoped to find a way to use it against them. After several moments of posing, they stepped inside. Raphael and I followed them to the middle.
Next to the boys’ table sat Juno, the blue-haired girl, and Lava, the last remaining Preta twin, who glowered at me. I kept my gaze unfocussed, not wanting to catch either of their eyes.
Up at the head table, Lady Mantis sat in Miss Margolyes’ usual seat between Professor Proust and Captain Tanar. At her back stood two of her red-uniformed guards, and another two stood at the ends of the head table, next to two academy guards. I clenched my teeth, wondering if she would ever leave.
Professor Proust stood. “Happy new year, staff and students. I hope your first night back was productive—”
“One minute.” The vampire noblewoman stood.
Hushed chatter spread across the dining room, and I held my breath. If this was about Micalla—Her gaze caught mine, making my heart flip-flop. I focussed on the brooch at her throat and steadied my breathing.
“What is the meaning of this, My Lady?” asked the headmaster.
“Discipline in this academy is lax, and the subjects you teach the frumosi won’t help vampires survive this new millennium.”
My brows drew together. The way she’d phrased that, it was like the frumosi were essential to protecting vampires. But everyone so far had implied it was the other way around. I rubbed my chin. This only confirmed that the stories I’d heard about us being brought here for our own survival were bullshit.
“I beg your pardon,” said Professor Proust.
Lady Mantis raised her chin. “By order of the Vampire Parliament, I divest you of your rank as headmaster of the Sanguine Vampire Academy and all privileges related therein.”
“What?” said the professor.
She turned to Captain Tanar. “Our Lord Dracula would like you to take over.”
The captain inclined his head. “I will do my utmost to train the frumosi in line with his Lordship’s wishes.”
My mouth opened and closed, and I glanced around, catching the gazes of confused students, vampire and frumosi alike.
This had to be related to what the onion woman told me about hunters being frumosi. But why would vampires want to train us when it made better sense to eliminate us before we became a threat?
Lady Mantis walked around the head table and stepped down from the podium. Her guards followed her to the exit, where she turned around and smirked.
Captain Tanar clapped his gloved hands together, the sound making my heart jolt. “Professor Proust,” he said with a snarl. “According to vampire lore and traditions, you are now within the realm of a superior vampire.”
“This has to be a mistake!” said the headmaster.
The captain reached back and pulled Miss Margolyes up by her hair, making the older woman squeak. “As such, your chattel is mine to claim.”
Professor Proust’s mouth fell open. “But Miss Margolyes belongs to—”
“Me.” Captain Tanar grinned at the frumosi teacher. “Isn’t that right?”
I clapped my hand over my mouth. We’d covered this in Basic Protection when she had taught us the benefits of blood repellants—to make a frumosi unattractive when they were brought to the home of a vampire superior. My gaze darted to Nero, who looked unfazed by the events.
After whispering a few words to our Basic Protection teacher and getting her to nod and murmur something back, Captain Tanar pulled the woman to his chest, pushed back her hair, and bit into her neck. Dark blood spilled from the wound over her bare shoulders and onto her pale summer dress.
My heart seized, and all the muscles in my body stiffened. I glanced at Professor Proust, who hung his head.
Tinkling laughter sounded from the exit, where Lady Mantis gave the captain a round of applause. “This is the fate that awaits frumosi. You aren’t our equals, our consorts, or our companions. If any vampire wishes to elevate their status in the parliament or any frumosi wishes to obtain their freedom, they can contact me via the captain with information on my daughter’s whereabouts.”
Without meaning to, I shifted my gaze to the table where Zarah sat with Kat and Annette. The blonde girl stared straight at me with a look of accusation that could have burned me from the inside-out.
My breaths shallowed. Zarah was a threat.
As Lady Mantis walked away with her guards, Captain Tanar placed Miss Margolyes back in her usual seat. Blood still poured down her neck, as though the captain had left it there to make a point. Professor Proust’s nostrils flared, but he maintained a contained and dignified expression and didn’t once spare a glance for his consort.
Gasping and breathing hard enough for all to hear, Miss Margolyes braced her arms on the table and stared out with glazed eyes. Perhaps the captain had taken too much blood and made her feel dizzy.
“Right, then, students,” growled the captain. “This is the start of a new regime. From this moment onward, there will be no art or etiquette-related classes. Everything you learn will be related to the upcoming war between vampires and hunters.”
Some brave soul in the front raised his hand. It was Nathaniel, the vampire who had mesmerized Zarah into accepting the death of her aunt.
“Yes?” asked the captain.
“Sir, you didn’t cover a war in Hunters 101. Has something happened?”
Captain Tanar grunted. “Lord Dracula wishes to put an end to the scourge of hunters. To do this, he needs the help of the frumosi.”
I chewed my lip. When would he tell everyone that hunters were just a form of frumosi who used their powers to kill vampires? I would bet Raphael’s life that the captain was keeping that quiet, so none of us got any funny ideas about trying to join the other side.
“Everybody eat!”
The knockers served out large portions of sangria, and one of them placed a plate of grilled sardines and steamed spinach in my place setting. I would have declined, but now wasn’t the time to make a fuss. With Captain Tanar in charge and staring at me as though I was a piece of rare steak, it looked like I needed the protection of the Stryx brothers more than ever.
After dinner, we walked back through the hallways in silence, and I couldn’t help thinking about Miss Margolyes. How long would Captain Tanar let her continue bleeding, and would he give her back to Professor Proust or keep her as his plaything?
“What’s on your mind?” asked Raphael. “You’re looking a little pale.”
Bloodless, he probably meant. I glanced at him and asked, “Why did Miss Margolyes agree so quickly for Captain Tanar to bite her?”
“She’s a wise frumosi who knows her place,” said Dante. “If she had refused, Professor Proust would have been in breach of vampire hospitality laws.”
“And severely punished,” added Nero.
I continued down the hallway with my head bowed at the unfairness of it all. She’d probably just gotten used to the ways of one vampire, and now she’d been handed over to another.
The old me might have brought up that incident in the stairwell when she’d approved of Captain Tanar’s advances, but I pushed that memory aside and focused on the onion woman’s reaction to hearing the captain’s name. From what I had heard about the vampire, I didn’t think he would be an easy master.
“Will she ever get free?” I asked in a small voice.
Raphael gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “She will if Dracula decides to give Professor Proust back his job.”
“Which is doubtful,” added Dante.
“Even then, Proust won’t want her back after Tanar has broken her with his cock and fangs.”
“True,” said Dante.
My insides stiffened. Was this wh
at Nero planned to do to me? There was no point in asking, as I didn’t want them to mistake the question for a request.
We reached the boys’ suite, and an extra-large dog crate sat in front of the fireplace, complete with a patchwork, sheepskin rug, and a dog bed and a soft-looking blanket.
I stood at the doorway, blood draining from my face. “What’s that?”
“It’s where you’ll sleep on the nights you displease us,” said Dante.
I eyed the padlock on the crate. “What if I need to use the bathroom in the middle of the day?”
Raphael let go of my hand and walked to the fireplace. He pushed open the crate door, crawled inside, and pulled out a bowl from under the dog bed.
“You can use this,” he said. “One of the knockers will empty it in the morning. There’s actually two in case we need to keep you in the cage for a bit longer.”
All the moisture in my throat dried, and I swallowed hard. “Is this where I’m sleeping tonight?”
Nero grinned. “That’s entirely up to you.”
I glanced at Raphael, who crawled out of the mesh cage and gave me a crooked smile. Given a choice, I would take my chances in the crate to avoid getting anywhere near these creeps, but they would keep me locked up all day, and I wouldn’t get the opportunity to see the onion woman and learn how to lower the wards.
“How should I please you?”
Dante’s brows rose. “I’m sure a clever little frumosi can think of ways to keep her masters happy.”
He liked me when I acted humble and submissive, so I lowered my gaze and glanced at him through my lashes. “Sir, my jaw aches from your huge erections.”
Nero snickered. Dante smirked and gave his brother a nudge.
“What do you suggest?” Dante asked.
“May I please you in other ways?”
Raphael strolled over to my side, and I placed both hands on his chest, which rose and fell in rapid breaths. I hated them all, but Raphael seemed the easiest to fool. The deluded boy seemed to think I was here of my own free will and not blackmailed.