Days had passed since the fateful assault on Victor, an event that unraveled the truth of his supernatural existence to Antonia.
In the wake of that revelation, he had firmly embedded himself into her life, their encounters now a nightly ritual where Victor indulged in her body and blood, deriving pleasure from their twisted connection. But it wasn't long before his ravenous gaze fell upon Timothy Jackson, Antonia's loyal personal assistant, as well.
The situation had evolved into a macabre game for Victor, a delightfully twisted amusement. Antonia and Timothy had become his playthings, their bodies and blood mere pawns in his dark symphony.
As the morning light seeped through the curtains, Antonia stirred from her slumber, finding herself enveloped in the embrace of a colossal, ebony bed that exuded both comfort and malevolence.
To her side lay Victor, his lips still stained with the red evidence of their sinful activities, and Timothy, just like Antonia, bearing the same bite marks of Victor's insatiable hunger on his pale flesh.
Antonia slowly raised herself from the bed, her eyes traversing the expanse of the room that now greeted her every morning.
Victor's chamber, a grand space bathed in subdued light, was a sanctuary of opulence. A fireplace stood proudly, casting dancing shadows upon the walls, while a regal king-size bed dominated the center of the room. Nestled beside it were two plush armchairs, inviting warmth and comfort.
The chamber bore witness to an exquisite collection of antique furniture and timeless paintings, each piece adding its own narrative to the tapestry of the room. The walls, bereft of color, exuded a subtle elegance that lent an air of sophistication to the space. It was a haven of resplendent tranquility, a testament to the refined tastes of its inhabitant.
Her gaze shifted towards the two men, and her heart skipped a beat as she found Victor's eyes already awake, fixed on her.
"Good morning," he murmured, stretching his body, causing the silk sheets to cling and reveal the subtle movements of his muscles.
Timothy stirred beside him, his eyes opening with a drowsy flutter. In that fleeting moment, they observed one another, uncertainty lingering in the air like a heavy fog, each wondering how the day would unfold.
Finally breaking the silence, Victor quipped, "Well, it seems everyone is finally awake. I was starting to grow bored."
Antonia glanced at him, acutely aware of what was about to transpire. Victor's smirk only confirmed her suspicions as he drew closer to Timothy, his hand gently caressing the exposed skin of his neck. With deliberate hunger, he descended upon the vulnerable flesh, his lips latching onto Timothy's neck.
Time seemed to stand still as Victor greedily drank, not wasting a precious drop of the life-giving elixir. Timothy, caught between pain and pleasure, emitted a soft groan, the sound echoing throughout the confines of the room. Crimson rivulets streamed down his neck, tracing the path of the wound, as he surrendered to the combined sensations.
Victor paused, licking his lips, savoring the last few drops of the crimson liquid within his mouth, before withdrawing from Timothy.
"I suppose it is my turn now," Antonia whispered softly, her gaze locked with Victor's intense stare.
With a languid grace, his arms encircled her slender waist, pulling her closer until their bodies melded together. Their faces pressed intimately, the radiating heat of his form stoking the flames of desire within her. A heady scent of arousal mingled with the tantalizing aroma of fresh blood, enveloping her senses in a whirlwind of temptation.
YOU ARE READING
The Immortals
VampireIn a small town in northern England, Tom encounters a strange pathologist. Out of curiosity, he and his friends follow the doctor to see what kind of strange things she does. Along the way, they stumble upon deadly machinations and an even deadlier...
