Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
So I understand the look on Paul’s face.
But Ryet doesn’t look like he’s enjoying this. It doesn’t look sexual. It looks… desperate. Like he needs this blood or he will die. He’s gnawing on Paul. And my own hand goes up to my neck. I’m sympathizing with that feeling as well.
How in the world is Paul getting pleasure from that?
Suddenly, Ryet pulls back a little, his mouth ringed with blood and his eyes closed. He lets out a breath and even from here I can tell that his body was tensed up—every muscle, every tendon, every bit of it. Because I’m watching the moment when he relaxes and nearly goes limp in Paul’s arms. And I feel that relief right along with him.
It’s a release. A letting go.
Something is happening here. Something that goes far beyond just nourishment or healing.
Paul opens his eyes too, angling his chin downward to whisper in Ryet’s ear. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I know he’s saying something because Ryet is responding. Not words, really. But small movements. Tiny indications that he’s listening, but he can’t move or open his eyes to fully participate.
Then Paul places a hand on Ryet’s neck. Pushing his head down and exposing his throat.
My gut clenches instinctively when I realize he’s going to drink him now.
Ryet is whimpering. Even from across the clearing—with the sound of the waterfall and the buffering of leaves—I can hear these whimpers. It’s the sound of a wounded animal. Something begging for relief. And the relief comes from that bite.
Oh, I can relate. I almost close my own eyes just thinking about it, suddenly craving it too. But I force them to stay open so I can watch what’s happening now.
Paul lowers his mouth down and I lean in—taking a step forward—trying to get a glimpse of his teeth as they meet up with the flesh.
And then he’s drinking and moaning. And Ryet is writhing, his hand between his legs. Grabbing for his hard cock. Pumping it up and down as he is fed on.
And yeah, that’s what it feels like when a vampire puts his mouth on you.
It’s pure lust.
And I can feel it, even from here, I can feel the draw of them both. And how I want them. And how I’ve had them already.
Last night.
It was a dreamwalk, but this is a dreamwalk too, and it all feels so fucking real.
Ryet suddenly screams out, his body tensing again, his mouth wide open, and, for the first time ever, I see that he has fangs.
I push the leaves aside as I step forward, trying to get a better look, trying to see those sharp teeth inside his mouth, all covered in blood. But Paul is in the way, his head dipped down into the crook of Ryet’s neck, blocking my view.
I step out from the ferns and leaves, walking towards them, and I realize I’m naked. It should surprise me, but it doesn’t. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I came.
That’s why when Paul looks up at me, mouth bloody and smiling, eyes bright and yellow-red and beckoning, and whispers, “Come here, Syrsee. Join us now. It’s time for you to get your share,” I do as he says. I keep walking without any sort of hesitation.
This is where I belong. With these two men. No. Monsters. I belong with them. These words are echoing through my head as my bare feet cross the smooth, dark earth on the ground. And when I am standing in front of them, I kneel beside Paul, eyes on Ryet. And then I offer him my wrist without any sort of command telling me to do that.
I place it over Ryet’s mouth and that’s when I finally get a good look at those teeth. They are sharp. Like razors. Like scalpels. But I only just barely feel it when they slip into me, nicking the vein on the other side of my thin skin.
Then I am moaning too. The moment I feel him drawing blood out of me I go limp and fall to my knees.
Paul is petting my head. And when I look up at him, his whole mouth is covered in blood.
I see myself kissing him. Not just licking the blood from his lips like I was last night. But drinking him the same way he drinks Ryet.
I see him fucking me.
I see myself between them both, forever and ever. Unending.
And this is the totality of my desires.
Them. And me. Drinking, and feeding, and fucking.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX - RYET
The real thing is so. Much. Better.
I am not here. But I’m not there, either.
I’m nowhere. I’m nothing.
But at the same time, I feel like everything.
My body is on fire—but in the best way. I writhe, sucking on Paul’s neck, lost in the moment.
But then… something feels different. Something has changed. It’s not his neck, it’s his wrist.