WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MUCH SEX SCENES; HOMOSEXUALISM AND INCEST.
~. ~. ~.
THE COOKING STAFF OF THE WHITE KEEP organized a most delightful dinner for the family and their four houseguests.
Marsil didn't attend...
He just couldn't bear to watch the snake of a Lord sing his praises on the sands. A man who had starved him just moons before his rise to glory. A man who'd mocked his nature as a Bloodchild but now bowed to his stature as a Prince.
Besides, he didn't feed like them anyway. At least, not entirely.
During the dinner, Lord Geralt, his wives and daughters maintained absolute decorum, but underneath all the polite smile and good-natured conversation was pure sin. A river of lust...
...lurking so bad Hemlock could taste it.
Staring at the long dinner table and overhead candle chandelier, Hemlock recognized the banquet gathering for what it truly was. It was like on the potions he cooked.
The poison bottle could be sparkly and the atter red as wine, sometimes even pleasantly tasting too; but underneath all the finesse and glitter was the sting of a serpent that could kill a man with a single bite, or in his case, a single taste.
It was the same thing with the Cranmer household. Though the women smiled and laughed, he could detect their eyes move more than once to the area of the balcony where the young handsome Prince stood under the moonlight, away from their dinner.
It was clear in their eyes, they couldn't wait for the dinner to be over so they could engage in more 'pleasant activities'. The House Cranmer was wealthy but it was also a perverse family.
Hemlock had caught Lord Geralt's second daughter, the green-eyed Janine with her hand under the table throughout the entire dinner. Her immediate younger sister, Fiona beside her had also bit down on her fork in a subdued moan one time too many.
Being the son of a whore, Hemlock was no stranger to wanton desires, perverse pleasures, and forbidden wants.
The young man had a pretty good guess what Janine's hand was doing under the table. Infact, he was sure if he looked down, he would see her hand deep between her sister's legs, pleasuring her as she smiled warmly at the table without a hint whatsoever.
Fiona was not so subtle, and more than once, she had jerked on her seat. When her father turned to look at her, she quickly gave a shaky smile.
Janine and Fiona shared Lord Geralt as their father but were birthed by different mothers. Seeing as the girls took after their mothers, Janine and Fiona looked nothing alike.
...Which was why Hemlock suspected their attraction to each other. In a kingdom such as Syveria, it wasn't unheard of that incest ran amongst families. Most Noblehouses married in the family, but step-sisters was another level of unnatural desire...
Hemlock looked to the Princess, and thankfully, Esabel and Ferra were oblivious, munching on their spread of soft boiled potatoes, vegetables and spiced roast beef. A full lamb's head sat at the center of the long dinner table.
Soon enough, the dinner ended and everyone gave polite 'Goodnights'.
Marsil walked back to the table then, respectfully giving thanks to the host, House Cranmer for the meal, even though he didn't partake.
The Vampire Prince was like that. A lone wolf. But also humble as a Grace. After the round of food, wine was served. It was so richly tasting that Hemlock suspected it was the most expensive kind, the kind brewed by the farming villages near the Capital.
A light chatter ensued before everyone began to proceed to their quarters, one by one. The Manor's Butler, a sturdy septuagenarian showed Marsil and his three friends to their rooms. The White Keep was so large, each of them had theirs.
The bedchambers were nearly as grandiose as those of the Castle. It was clear Lord Geralt had spent a treasury in having his palace of a house built.
The house soon turned quiet and everyone assumed the semblance of sleep.
A few minutes passed before Hemlock sat up from his place on the bed in his dark room. His feet went to the floor and he tiptoed across the room, lighting a candle. He clutched the lamp in his hands as he moved out, careful to shut the door silently behind him.
The soft click of the latch sounded and he made his way across the dark hallways, straight to Kaneine's room. The Manor was large but he had memorized the way earlier before.
He stopped before her door, and inspite of himself, he inhaled deeply before lifting his hand. His knuckles fell on the smooth wood twice in a knock.
"Come in," a sultry voice echoed in from within.
Hemlock steeled himself, pushing the door open.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, My Lady. I just wanted to—"
His voice fell short when he turned around. He'd been securing the door and had not turned as he talked, but now that he did...
By the glories of the Seventh Flame! He gasped.
What he saw before him was more flesh that he'd hoped to see, and certainly not the kind of welcome he expected from a Lady whose door just got knocked on by a man in the middle of the night.
Kaneine sat at the edge of a large bed in front of him. Flickering candles lit the room in a soft yellow glow, casting on her beautiful body.
She wore absolutely nothing as she sat before him, watching with her captivating dark eyes as the candles painted her white skin a lush cream.
Hemlock looked down and the candle-lamp shivered in his hands. The girl had her legs spread wide, and he could see everything.
...A perfect narrowed slit.
His cock immediately answered the call, blood rushing low faster than he could even follow.
It was hard to believe that the very sexual woman sitting before him was Lord Geralt Cranmer's eldest daughter.
The same one who'd looked innocent as a nun just few moments ago. Now she looked sexy as fuck, just sitting there with spread legs and a curved smile.
Hemlock was still standing by the door, frozen quiet with his candle in his hand when a figure across moved from a dark corner, walking out from the shadows of the bedroom.
Soon, a woman came to view. She was busty and had Kaneine's eyes. Hers were a bit smoky and her body was curvier. She had on a revealing white shift, that showed everything from her full tits to her taut belly, to the curve of her hips, down to her long legs.
Hemlock's eyes widened at the push of her nipples through the wear. Kaneine followed his molten hazel eyes and smiled.
"Hemlock, this is my mother, Belbys..."
At her words, the young man paled right to the tips of his ears.
Over the years, Hemlock acknowledged he had been in some of the most erotic tumbles a man could wish for, but never ever had he been with a girl and her mother.
...A Lord's wife and her very own daughter.
It was clear from Kaneine's eyes and her mother's dressing that they wanted him both. If he thought he was large before, now his cock had grown out to spear right through his breeches. It was out there for the women's eyes.
...and they pinned on the massive head.
Slowly, Belbys began to walk to him, her curvy form gliding across like a swan. It was then Hemlock realised a hard truth.
Kainene had known he was coming into her room. So did the woman walking towards him.
Yes! Kainene looked like a someone who should be a saint, praying in the Grace Temple, but she was not. Under all the innocence was dark, wicked desire.
...and he loved it.
Belbys reached him, meeting his hazel eyes before she abruptly grabbed hold of his cock. Hemlock shuddered at her sudden grip and almost lost his grasp on the candle-lamp.
He immediately lowered the lantern to a nearby sconce. Belbys on the other hand smiled at his filling size. Clearly, the redhead was well-endowed.
Her smile withered to a moan when Hemlock roughly pulled her to him, kissing her fiercely. His hands went around her and his palms filled with her ass. He groaned at her plumpness, kissing her harder.
Kainene stood up from the bed, walking to them. She took position behind Hemlock, lifting her hands to unbutton his loose white shirt.
Soon, they were all romancing each other, hands everywhere, trading heated kisses; from Hemlock to Kainene and from her to Belbys. Then as a surprise to the young redhead, her and her mother.
They fell on the bed shortly and dizzolved into their torrid threesome affair.
In the room right next to where all this was happening, Janine lay with Fiona under a rise of tangled white sheets.
Holding her step-sister dear to her on the wide bed, she pushed her fingers deep into her. Their moans and panting were muted in each other's slick skin.
In the room after that was Ferra, sleeping calmly with her wealth of black hair softly splayed out on the pillows, haloed by moonlight spilling through the drapes of her bedchamber.
The Amber-eyed beauty was blissfully unaware of all the electricity going on the seemingly quiet halls of the White Keep.
Next to her room was Esabel's.
However, the Princess was not in her bedroom. She was in the washroom by the corner, in a bath basin full of hot water. Her naked skin gleamed in golden candlelight and steam rose up her pink cheeks.
Her legs were spread wide in the tub, her fingers between them, and her mouth was open, her head fallen back. Only one thought filled her head as she bucked in the water, plunging her fingers deeper into herself.
'...Marsil her brother, making wild love to her.'
Just above Esabel's room, on the third storey of the Manor was Lord Cranmer's very own room. The old man rested in his bed with eyes wide open.
...Sleep evaded him.
He was sure it was because of the Prince's sudden arrival in his home. Thank the gods for Arlon, he mused. If not for the King, he suspected he'd have been dead by now.
Had he known the vampire would grow to become a Legend, he would not have maltreated him. Now, he could only hope the boy didn't use him for supper. Lord Geralt was still locked in these thoughts when a light knock sounded on his door. Once.
Only one person knocked like that.
"Come in," the Lord called from his resting position.
The door opened and he met with a beautiful brown-skinned sight. His youngest daughter, Aleah, and the only one colored like chocolate.
She walked over to the bed and climbed in, laying her head down on his shoulders and snaking her hand up to his chest.
"You can't sleep, father?"
Her voice came soft to him and he looked down, nodding to her and peering deep brown eyes.
"Me neither!" she replied. "I think I can help us both."
Without saying anything else, the young woman pulled away the sheets covering him and straddled his legs. The next thing was a blur of clutching hands, ripped garments and hurried panting.
Two minutes later, Geralt let out a loud groan as Aleah gripped him by the shaft and slowly slid down on him, taking him hard into her tight heat.
She gave him a small smile and he let out a soft laugh. Her white nightdress was up to her thighs and his shrivelled hands ran the length of her ivory skin. She began to move slowly on him and his hand went to her hips.
Lord Geralt smiled.
Aleah was the one he truly loved. She moaned and he smiled again, his cock seated deeply in his daughter riding from above.
Faraway from all the wanton activities going on in the White Keep, at the edge of a wide balcony stood the Vampire Prince.
He was the only one not sleeping, and certainly not fucking.
Marsil lifted up his eyes to the full moon overhead. His eyes reflected the silver wonder, the orbs colored just like the moon. The very object from which he'd gotten his name.
His keen vampire hearing picked up on all the moaning and grunting coming from the bedchambers of the Manor and his lips twitched.
Hemlock had being right.
...House Cranmer was a perverse family.