Page 97 of Blood Lovers

Syrsee grabs his hair and pulls his mouth back down to her neck. And the moment that his teeth sink back into her flesh, and he takes that long draw of Black blood, she comes. Gripping his hair with tight fists, biting down on the firm, hard muscles of his shoulder.

I watch them as I slowly unbutton my shirt.

The dreamwalk is funny now that the grandma’s spell has been broken. It is so easy. I am here. They are here. If we touch each other, we feel each other. But I am not really here.

I love it. I absolutely love my life, and the magic, and the blood and sex, of course. But that goes without saying.

I throw my shirt aside and go to work on the pants. Once that’s done, and I’m completely naked, I walk over to them and take a seat next to Syrsee on the couch.

Her head flips in my direction. She came just moments ago, so she’s still a little drunk on it. Her eyes try their best to focus, but even if she knows who I am, she can’t articulate it. It is just as erotic to be drained by us as it is for us to drain her.

So she is feeling the very same thing that Ryet is. And all this is new to her, so she’s quite lost in her lust.

Ryet, on the other hand, is an old champ at dreamwalk sex. And he hates it when I come to him like this.

But he’s drinking Black blood right now. He’s not even here. It’s not him, just his animal form. But still, he sees me. And he’s just about to open his mouth and growl at me—perhaps even attack me—when I bite my lip and release my own blood.

We are kissing less than a moment later, his mouth on mine, him sucking on my lip as he fucks the little Black witch. I grab his hair—Syrsee lost her grip when she came, so it’s all mine now. And I pull him over into my lap so we can kiss and play a little easier.

And he is willing. Usually he’s always fighting me. Always trying to deny me. Always trying to deny himself.

But the Black blood makes all the difference. He loves me. Right now, I am his world.

I play with him and bite my lip, over and over. But Syrsee is feeling left out. She joins our kiss and then, before I can even think twice or question whether or not this is the most practical way forward, she’s drinking me too. Licking my lip. Sucking on it. And then she’s kissing me.

And when her blood mixes with my blood inside my mouth, I am… gone.

The next thing I know, she’s in my lap, Ryet is next to me, and we are both feeding off her neck. One of us on each side of her.

If she were any other Black witch, we could kill her this way. Easily. Within minutes. Because what we are doing right now—feeding on the same girl—is a little bit like the long drink.

But Syrsee is not any other Black witch. She is the one. And she can take us both.

Because not even the long drink can kill her now. Not after she tasted me.

Finally, after hundreds and hundreds of years of planning, and waiting, and failed attempts—Josep has gotten it right.

As my body fills up with her blood, I drift, only half-realizing that she has my cock in her hand. When I look at her, I see myself. Drunk on the sex, and the blood, and the lust.

She has no idea what she’s doing to me, or Ryet, or even herself.

But it’s not the time for explanations because she is throwing her head back, hands pumping up and down our cocks as we suck on her, and she is coming. Over and over again.

And I can’t help but wonder if I have died and gone to Heaven.

And it is in this drunken lust that I make a bad decision.

Isn’t that how they always happen? When you are drunk on evil things?

And my decision is to bite my wrist and put it up to her mouth. She is a creature of Hell and even though she never had the craving for blood the way a vampire does, once it’s offered in quantity, the hunger rears its ugly head and takes over like any other addiction.

She forgets who she is when she draws in my blood. Drips from my lip are one thing. Enough to turn her slutty, and wanting, and willing. But a small stream will do much more than that.

Suddenly Ryet is pushing her off me, pulling her into his lap, growling. “What are you doing? What the fuck are you doing?”

So he’s back. Well, it was nice while it lasted.

“Are you feeding her?”