The thoughts weren't his own. There was a part of Damien that recognized that. But she was his Dam. She had brought him into the world of unlife. His thoughts were bound by one overriding command—obedience.
"That would be nice," Abigail purred. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his neck. She kissed and nibbled on the very spot where she had sunk in her fangs and killed him.
Fed upon him.
Damien's dick throbbed against her flat stomach. His balls churned. The caress of her skin on the crown of his cock was almost too much for him to bear. He held back his orgasm, not wanting to spill his cum across her belly.
He wanted to be in her when that happened.
"Please, let me down, Abigail," Damien groaned. "Let me worship you, my love."
Her hand caressed up to his cheek. Her sharp fingernail bit into his flesh. His dick throbbed harder. "I do not have permission to free you."
"Who could command you, Dam?" Damien groaned. "Who has the power to command the sun?"
"You are a lot more poetic this way," she purred into his neck. She moved away and fell back on their bed, letting out a wanton moan. "Sire, appear before me. He is awake. I need you."
The shadows moved in the corner of the room. A man stepped out. Tall, straight-back, filling out an expensive, tailored suit. The cloth was black as midnight, contrasting with the crimson tie about his throat. His hair was dark, slicked back, and a hungry smile curled across his powerful lips. He was chiseled from stone, the type of man that would grace a Harlequin romance.
"Sire," Abigail breathed in worship, her body trembling on the bed. "I have obeyed. I have captured my husband and turned him."
"Yes, you have," the man said. He walked with power and grace, a vampire fully adapted to his body. His light-blue eyes fixed on Damien. They were harder than steel or diamond. Damien almost flinched beneath them.
But he had fought vampires before.
But he is my Dam's Sire. If she must obey him, so must I.
Damien lowered his eyes.
"How delightful," the vampire said, his voice a dark rasp. "The great Damien D'Angelo chained before me while his wife pants like a bitch in heat for my cock."
"Oh, yes, Sire," Abigail moaned. "I need to feel you in me again."
"Do you know who I am, Damien?"
"My wife's sire," answered Damien, still looking down at his feet, his toes dangling inches from the carpet.
"Look me in the eye when I speak to you, pup." The vampire's words were a whip cracking against Damien's ears.
Damien's eyes shot up. "Sorry, sir."
Abigail crawled across the bed as the vampire stopped at its foot. She rubbed her cheek against the leg of his slacks like a dog greeting her master. She let out a wanton moan, her dusky-pink nipples hard at the tips of her swaying breasts. Her hand slid up, rubbing at the vampire's crotch.
Damien's cock throbbed as he watched his Dam unzip the vampire's slacks. Her hand disappeared and pulled out a hard cock. With a moan, Abigail sucked the cock into her mouth. Not even a tremble of pleasure crossed the vampire's lips; his eyes remained focused on Damien.
Abigail moaned as she sucked. Her blowjob was loud and sloppy with her enthusiasm. She wiggled her ass as she worked her mouth up and down the vampire's dick. Her hands played with his balls and stroked his shaft.
Damien pulled at his chains. He wanted to stroke himself as he watched his Dam pleasure the vampire. He wanted to fall to his knees and lick her pussy, to worship her as fervently as she worshiped the vampire.
"Let me go," Damien panted.
"Why?" the vampire asked.
"She needs me," groaned Damien. "Her pussy is so wet. Her scent fills me. She needs me to pleasure her. To worship her. My Dam needs me."
The vampire laughed as he stroked Abigail's hair. "It doesn't bother you in the least that I am violating your wife's mouth?"
"She is happy," Damien panted. "That's all that matters."
"All that matters," smiled the vampire. "I forget just how slavishly devoted a newly turned vampire is to his Dam or Sire. The great Damien has no spine. And neither does your wife. How many vampires have you killed?"
"More than thirty," Damien groaned, his hips thrusting, his cock bouncing. Abigail has turned, her ass facing Damien. She wiggled it. Her pussy was wet between her thighs. Her tart juices filled his nose. He wanted to drink her passion, to become drunk on his Dam. "So many. I lost count."
"We were just vermin to you."
"Yes," Damien groaned. "I killed three last night. Like stepping on a cockroach."
"Isn't that what you are, Damien?" the vampire asked. "You and your fellow Knights Venator? Cockroaches scurrying through the darkness."
"No," Damien groaned, then frowned. He is her Sire. "I mean, yes. Cockroaches."
"You are as eager to debase yourself as your wife." The light-blue eyes grew harder. A sneer curled his lips. "There is no satisfaction in this. Whore, free your spawn from your obedience."
Abigail popped her mouth off the vampire's cock. "Yes, Sire."
She slipped off the bed and padded over to Damien. She pressed herself against him, her nipples hard. She bit her wrist. Her dark-red blood welled up. Damien's nostrils flared as he scented the rich aroma of her blood.
Vampire blood was more potent than human blood, full of the same dark ichor that sustained Damien's unlife. She raised her wrist to his lips. He hungrily drank in her blood. Pleasure exploded through him. His cock, already aching, erupted across her stomach.
"I still love you," Abigail whispered in his ear. Her words were so soft. A human's ear would never have made out her words.