My Little Ventrue - Cover

My Little Ventrue

Copyright© 2018 by Novus Animus

Chapter 125

Fan Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 125 - (Knowledge of the setting not required!) Set in the world of Vampire: The Requiem. Dolareido. A city of dark alleys, dirty contracts, and deadly predators. Predators in business suits and stiletto heels. Jack, just a young man and barely an adult, finds himself on death's door. Before he knows what's happening, he's pulled into the world of vampires, the Danse Macabre, and the Masquerade.

Caution: This Fan Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Fan Fiction   Mystery   Paranormal   Vampires   Were animal   Group Sex   Orgy   Anal Sex   Double Penetration   Exhibitionism   Oral Sex   Petting   Squirting   Tit-Fucking   Big Breasts   Slow   Violence  

~~Jack~~

Not much longer until sunrise. God, he was starving. Strong as the curse was, it wasn’t invincible, and it’d used a lot of his available vitae to fight that creature.

Fought, and won. Don’t forget that.

Jack silenced his thoughts as best he could, and waited, but the curse said nothing. Just as Jack had noticed throughout the battle with the azlu, and Sándor’s Horror before that, and the attack on the hospital before that, the curse had trouble maintaining control after expending a lot of vitae. It, or he, was connected to the Beast in a way not dissimilar to Jack.

That meant, while Jack starved, became weak, and felt his Beast instincts kick into overdrive, the curse itself went quiet, growing weak as well. A flaw in the curse? A weakness. Despite how the Beast grew louder and louder inside Jack’s head and chest as his blood lust increased, the curse said nothing. If the curse was simply the Beast given voice, it’d have an easier time taking over him when he was hungry, not a harder time.

The Strix curse wasn’t the Beast then, but something that infected it, imbued it with power, indirectly imbued Jack with power, and ... what, created another personality in his head? Without a power source, of the ‘essence of life’ as it put it, the curse was weak. Jack became weak too. The Beast did not.

Feed. Feed. Feed. Find something with a heartbeat and drain it. Get blood. Get the essence of life. Devour. Fill. Blood. Blood. His Beast sounded like that, and now his Beast was insanely powerful, but that wasn’t the voice of the curse. Or maybe, instead of thinking of the curse as the power given to his Beast and the voice of the curse, he needed to start thinking of them as separate things? His Beast was now absurdly powerful, so was he, and so was ... this other entity, now inside him?

He chuckled, and let his head sag. It’d been a long time since he’d been starving like this, truly hungry, to the point he could feel a frenzy under his skin, ready to break free and take over. But the Prince had him locked up tight. An elder Daeva or Nosferatu might be able to break the chains with pure strength. A Gangrel could probably transform into something that let them slip free. A Mekhet would probably be screwed, and so was he. But that was good. If he frenzied, no one would get hurt, and someone would feed him some blood come the morning.

The last time he was this hungry, it’d been his first night as a vampire. He’d frenzied, appetite surprising even his sire, and he’d killed someone. Mrs. Pavala.

Mrs. Pavala. God, he was happy he didn’t run into her ghost. The guilt would have ripped him in half.

It made him wonder, though. What were the requirements for becoming a ghost? It must have had something to do with the emotional and mental state of the person. Sabrina was so devoted to her sire, that dying in a skirmish with Carthians left her utterly unable to accept the reality. Mary apparently unlocked the memories Jack had suppressed inside her; suppressed, not wiped, evidently. And that had driven her into such a rage that she didn’t move on either.

Clara had said to ask the hunters. Good idea.

Jack.

A tiny whisper pushed through Jack’s thoughts.

Still with me?

I’m here. You’ll never be rid of me.

Yeah, we’ll see about that.

Why do you hate me so much?

Why? Why? Are you fucking serious? You snuck into my thoughts for months, years! You planted your claws in my brain and my personality, my instincts and desires, and twisted them. It wasn’t until I freed you that I could even think clearly anymore.

I gave you strength.

You gave me a guilt complex. Christ, I’ve been through fucking hell, and it could have been so much better, and smoother, if you hadn’t—

Hadn’t what? Gave you the strength to Dominate the hunters when they first kidnapped you? Or gave you the strength to Dominate Damien’s mind, and save your lover? So many times, you tapped into my strength, and so many times, I pushed it on you so you could save yourself. You dragged yourself out of that fire you created to kill your grandsire, cut in half face to crotch, and you lived because of me. You got revenge because of me! Angela is dead because of me! You have a mansion. You have power and money. You have the Prince—

Nothing. Nothing about what you have done, is why Antoinette and I are an item. If anything, it’s in spite of your presence that I found such an amazing woman, a woman who likes who and what I am, and vice versa.

And if it wasn’t for me, she’d be in her basement, crying her silly, ancient tears, over her dead lover.

You were just saving yourself.

Exactly. Saving me. Saving you.

Don’t talk about us like we’re the same person.

I am you!

No! You can’t have me!

Ha ha ha.

Jack sighed and let his head droop. The lights were still on in the room, since it didn’t matter to a Kindred how many lights were on, when dawn came. He looked up at his wrists, and how the wounds on his hands were healed. The memory of barbed wire cutting through his palms was vivid, and he gazed at them.

God, he was starving.

Jack. Don’t trust her.

Who?

Elaine.

Fuck you. She’s Antoinette’s friend. She trusts her, and I trust the Prince’s judgment more than my own.

Elders are blind to the past, Jack. Think. Would Elaine really help her, just to help her, and you? What Kindred is so thoughtful of others?

Julias was. You know, my sire? Her grandchilde?

Don’t be a fool. The Strix curse was created with a sacrifice.

Yeah, and? That was centuries ago. What does—

Think about it. Just ... think.

The curse went silent, and Jack sighed relief. The curse needed blood to run, and now that Jack was starving, it couldn’t keep it up. If the Beast inside Kindred grew louder and louder the hungrier the vampire became, why did the curse grow quieter? The more details he could put together, the more he had to work with with Elaine.

The curse, it, he, was Jack, in a way. He hadn’t been lying. Somehow the curse had latched onto him and created an entirely new personality, something that existed parallel inside Jack, and shared his body with the Beast. It wasn’t Jack fighting against his Beast. It was Jack and the curse, fighting for control of his mind, while the curse had also inflated his Beast’s power to the extreme.

It was such a disgusting problem. If he could get rid of the curse, he’d be free of his influence, but so much weaker. Given the chance, he’d happily become weak, if it meant having this thing in his head gone. The curse was sick, and horrible.

And he had a point. Not about helping Jack out a lot, fuck that. Power wasn’t worth having this abomination fighting for his god damn body. He had a point about Elaine.

Jack laughed, and smiled at the floor as he pieced together some memories. Not once had Antoinette left him alone with Elaine. Either she was around, or the sheriff was around. They didn’t trust her either, not completely.

Then again, Jack had spent almost every night for a while now with some part of his body on her breasts. Head, back, chest, usually his dick. Antoinette really, really, really really got off on getting him off, and was more than happy to use Elaine to indulge her kink. And, of course, he was happy to go along with whatever Antoinette wanted. Thankfully, that was usually something he wanted, too.

Each time he met Elaine’s eyes, he definitely saw an edge in them, something violent, something deadly, and some awareness lurking within. She was as old as Antoinette, and it’d be stupid to think that she couldn’t fight the Prince if it came to it. And still, despite all that, Antoinette felt comfortable having sex with her, and smooshing Jack between their boobs like he was sliced meat in desperate need of being sandwiched.

Maybe it was because she was a Ventrue? Daeva were fast and strong, and very, very good at melee confrontations. Ventrue were not. Ventrue were generals, meant to give orders. Maybe Antoinette figured she’d be able to handle anything Elaine could throw at her in such close proximity?

No, that wasn’t it. Antoinette trusted her. Antoinette legitimately trusted her. What sort of friendship did they have, for a secret as absurd as the curse, something Elaine used to have, to not break Antoinette’s faith?


~~Eric~~

The moment they were inside his apartment, Jessy started to strip.

“Uh, again?” he said. “We went just a little while ago.”

“Yeah, but I’m always horny after a successful mission.”

He paused and thought about that. It was true, mission successful. They’d showed up, saved their friends, and killed the azlu. Not all of them, since a few spiders were apparently wandering around, not a part of the greater hybrid monster thing, but Caleb and Noah insisted the few that remained would not be a threat for a long time.

“What if I don’t want to have sex?” he said, and folded his arms across his chest.

Shirtless but still in her bra, she turned around and looked at him, hands behind her back and ready to unclasp the infamous barrier. But she didn’t.

“I’d call you a liar.”

He laughed, and leaned against the closet wall near his front door. “Oh?”

“Yeah! I am a mighty gorgeous piece of ass, and you are a werewolf with an endless libido.” Grinning, she came up to him, and pressed her hands against his chest lightly, before getting in closer and pressing her bra and breasts into his chest.

He took a deep breath, and told his libido to shut up for a moment. “Come on, you know what I want to talk about.”

She frowned, stepped back, jumped onto the couch, and bounced a few times before settling. “Do ... do we have to?”

“You don’t want to?”

“I don’t like doing the talking thing. I like doing the action stuff, the kissing and fucking, even the cuddling, I like that stuff. Talking about our ... feelings, and stuff, it’s not fun.” That was telling, especially how she looked away when she said it.

He sat down on the couch beside her, eyes down as he struggled to find a way to word this. He was not eloquent. He was a dumb motherfucker.

Kat hopped up onto his lap, and sniffed him several times. Considering the shit he’d gone through, and all the weird blood he’d gotten on him, she was probably smelling some of that. The spider blood disappeared when he transformed, and he was thankful for that; suit remained intact too. But he could still smell it, and Kat frowned up at him, smelling it too and not happy about it.

“Sorry girl.”

Sighing, Jessy reached over, scooped up Kat the cat, and smooshed her into her bra as she hugged her. Eric doubted Kat cared about boobs, but she did care about soft things, and she rubbed her cheek into Jessy’s chest with the hug. Jessy smelled strange too, but Kat didn’t seem to care when it came to her.

“As you may have already guessed,” Jessy said, “I was, in fact, involved in a relationship once.”

That wasn’t what she’d told him before, but he nodded and rolled with it.

“With your cat?”

She laughed and nodded. “The cat, too. But, I mean with a person. A human, when I was just a teenager.”

“Oh? Want to ... talk about it?” He slid in a little closer to her, hooked his arm over her shoulders, and leaned back on the couch. Without comment, she snuggled into the nook of his arm, let Kat settle on her lap, and kept her eyes down as well.

“It was dumb. Just kid love, you know? It end badly.”

“How’d it end?”

“Told him I loved him.”

“How old were you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Ouch.”

She laughed, and scratched Kat around the ears until the dumbass was purring like a motor. “No shit. He dumped me on the spot, practically running away.”

“Did this guy ... have tattoos, and piercings, and smoked, and whatnot?” This would have been the sixties, after all. “Maybe drove a motorcycle he really wasn’t old enough to handle?”

She laughed again. “Yeap, exactly. I fell for a bad boy, like every teenager girl does. When I told him how I felt, he bolted in the other direction.”

“Rough way to learn that lesson.”

“Yeap. And ever since then, it left an impression.”

He leaned in, kissed the top of her head, and rubbed her further shoulder as he gently hugged her. “I don’t think you can blame your view of romance on that single event. Don’t give the guy so much credit.”

“I know I know. But, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t affect me at all. After that, I found it easier to keep people at a distance, you know? And by then I was completely addicted to sex, so it wasn’t like I was going to stop fucking any time soon.”

He nodded, as if it was perfectly normal. Most people didn’t give into their desires with such passion, but Jessy did, and had the rough-and-tough personality to stay afloat in her world despite it. It was strangely charming. Her life could be written as some sort of coming-of-age story for aggressive women.

“Well,” he said, “I’m no psychologist, but my last marriage taught me one very important lesson.”

“Don’t marry money?”

He choked on a snorting laugh; her jab had been a mix of hilarious and painful. “I was the money in that relationship, remember?”

She shrugged and beamed up at him.

“The lesson,” he continued, “was just ... talk to each other. It can be strange, awkward, and even painful. It might feel cheesy or stupid, to try and put life shit into words. But, you have to do it, because it’s a thousand times worse when you don’t.”

Sighing, she turned her head up to him, and nudged her forehead into his neck. “How wise you are, old one.”

He turned his head to rest his cheek on her hair, and squeezed her further shoulder toward him. “I love you.” Off like a band-aid, and his heart rate skyrocketed the moment the words were out of his mouth.

She shivered when he said it, like she’d just heard a balloon pop near her head, or a gunshot.

“Say ... say more things.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. That was a lot better an answer than ‘I don’t.’

“You’re a lot more honest than I figured any woman could be. You’re passionate, and you know what you like. You’re smarter than you realize. You’re genuinely fun to talk to and be with. You’re the reason I’m happy to wake up every day.”

“Plus the money.”

“Yeap, I do appreciate the money, too.”

“And I’m fucking gorgeous.” She managed to put some of her usual attitude into the comment, but her voice wavered with nervousness as she said it.

He laughed. “You’re gorgeous and you cum more easily than a single mother testing her new high powered vibrator.” Well, if she was going to go there, he could too.

That earned some laughs from her, and she resumed petting Kat, while at the same time nudging her head into his neck some more.

“I ... I love you too, ok?” She shivered again when she said it. “Ugh, I sound like a trashy dime store romance novel.”

He shook his head, and hugged her closer. “No, you don’t. Really. I ... I don’t want that sorta shit to ever make you think you shouldn’t say something, ok? Presentation and shit, I know vampires are into that, Invictus especially apparently. But that ruined my last relationship, like it was fucking poison. And since we’re both in do-or-die vocations, last thing I want is for us to ruin shit because we don’t communicate.”

“But, miscommunication and stupid decisions are the cornerstone of romance plots!” They both gagged at the same time. And then they laughed. “Ok, now we’re definitely having sex.”

“Say what?”

“First ‘I love yous’? Definitely need sex. Slow, tender, romantic, lovey dovey sex.” She set Kat on the back of the couch, and crawled onto his lap. Wearing only her suit pants and a black bra, she looked damn good. Smelled a bit weird, though. “Because you love me. Loove me? Looooove me.”

He blinked, and looked left and right as if trying to escape. Which earned a punch from the woman, right in the shoulder.

“Sorry,” he said between wince and groan. “Just, didn’t expect you to be so...”

“You awakened the little girl inside me! My heart is bursting!” She laughed again, shrugged, and leaned in close so she could hug him. “But seriously, I ... I’m fucking glad, ok? Really fucking glad. It’s damn hard for me to say shit like this.” She kissed his neck, sank her knees into the couch around him, and pushed her hips forward. “I love you. And ... it’s ... exciting to say.”

“It is pretty exciting. And ... soothing.”

“Fucking right. I ... god, it feels like I can finally...”

“Breathe?” he said.

“Vampire.”

“Oh, right.”

She shrugged again, and hugged him tighter, burying her face in his neck. “So you ... really love me?”

When she lifted her head, they met eyes, and Eric found himself staring; gazing, really. Something about her was so much easier to sync with, to be comfortable around, to not feel like she was looking for a way to stab him in the back, compared to the other women he’d been with. Funny, considering she was a vampire, and Sheryl was just your everyday human. Sheryl and him had had trouble looking each other in the eyes, unless it was sexual. With Jessy, he could meet her eyes, and they could look at each other without issue. They did it now, watched each other, gazed at each other, and it felt soothing.

Of course, soothing slowly turned into heat, as Jessy inched in closer, and nudged her lips into his. After a moment, he turned it into a kiss, set his hands on her hips, and pulled her as close as her body could go.

“So, uh,” she said between kisses, “how do, um, couples normally fuck, after their ‘I love yous’?”

“You had it right, I think. Slow, tender, lovey dovey sex. Maybe some candles. Maybe in the tub?” Half for quality romantic sex, half to get clean.

Laughing, she slipped off his lap, stood up, and put her hands on her hips as she looked around in contemplation. “Do they really?”

“Probably not. Sheryl and I fucked in the back of the limousine.” Drunk.

“Ha. Sounds to me like you need proper I-love-yous sex. Candles — you handle the candles — and hot tub sound great. And I’ll get the lube.”

“Lube?”

Nodding, she tossed off her bra as she marched toward his bathroom. “Gonna have some nice, long, drawn out sex. Water sex requires lube.”

“Right, right.”

“And anal.”

“Right, right.”


~~Beatrice~~

Triss and Jen returned from their outing. Both fed, leaving a couple hours before sunrise, and that was usually a good time to head back home. It didn’t take a vampire very long to cross the city, but more than one vampire had died to sunlight because shit happened on the way home. It paid to be cautious.

The two vamps crawled through the tiny entrance of the Circle’s cave, and were greeted by the usual sounds of Othello fucking someone. The dumbass Daeva was a master of Majesty, and often had one or two or seven women gobbling his cock, though he didn’t usually bring meals back to the cave, except for his ghoul Madison. She only knew about the seven-on-one orgy because she found him at Bloodlust one time, with seven girls fighting for room to get on him. But then again, he probably didn’t need Majesty to make that happen, not in Dolareido, and not with a body like his.

And, as per usual, Othello didn’t bother to close the hanging fur over his alcove, which meant Jen and Triss both got to see him and Madison having a good time. Tonight, Othello sat against the curved wall of the entrance to his alcove, so half of him wasn’t even inside it. Soon he’d be fucking the middle of the cave, if someone didn’t tell him to back the fuck up.

Triss marched over to him, black combat boots making a hilarious amount of noise against the stone.

“Othello, dude, what the fuck?”

“Beatrice. Been looking to talk.” The gorgeous man looked up at her with his usual half-glazed look, and smiled in pleasure. He always looked like he’d just taken a drag of something, despite how that didn’t work for Kindred, but at least this time he had reason for his blazed look: Madison sat on her butt beside him, her ass pointed toward his alcove, while she leaned over his lap, and had his dick in her mouth.

Triss did her best to ignore the sight, but it was hard. Madison was a beautiful woman, black with very dark skin, super short curly hair, and very, very curvy. She wasn’t chubby, but she had some meat on her bones, with a huge ass and big, heavy tits that rested against Othello’s leg while she sucked on his cock. Othello, with right hand down against the cave floor, had his left hand in her hair, and combed it encouragingly as she worked to get his huge dick down her throat. She succeeded, and Triss had to force her eyes up.

But, god damn, Othello was a beautiful fucker. The huge bodybuilder build would have looked too extreme on most people, but on Othello, it looked like a perfect counterpart to his laid-back personality. His brown eyes, long dark hair, and dark tan skin, highlighted his muscles just right, and Triss found her eyes drifting back down his chest, his abs, and down onto where Madison eased her head back up off his dick. She smiled up at Triss as she set a few kisses on the swollen head of her man’s length, earning a thick drop of precum she licked up.

Fuck, what did he say? Right, talk, he wanted to talk.

“About what?”

“You’ve been going out every night with Jen, and from the looks on your faces, it isn’t to fuck. What’s up?”

Jen slid up beside Triss, close enough to touch shoulder to shoulder. “It’s private.”

“Private? We’re all witches and warlocks here.”

Triss snorted, and bumped her hip with Jen as she gestured down at the man currently getting fellatio. “Yeah, we are, but some things should be private. Catch my drift?”

He just smiled in that dumbass, ‘I’m too high to care’ way, leaned his head back against the wall of stone behind him, and smiled at her. “What, don’t like Madison?”

“It’s not Madison I’m annoyed with. It’s you.”

“Well, if you’ve got a problem, come down here and do something about it.” The threat was not a threat, from the playfulness in his voice, and the glint in his eyes. It was an invitation to have sex. “Come on, it’s been months since—”

Jen stepped in and sliced the air with her hand. “Don’t even, Othello.”

Realizing his mistake, he quickly put up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. My bad.” He was going to say it’d been months since Julias died, the dumbass.

Jen snorted and walked off to her alcove. Triss watched her for a moment before looking back down at Othello, and his proceeding blowjob. She doubted she’d ever have sex with him; way too dumb a man. But honestly, after everything she’d been through, it felt kinda nice to have someone not tiptoe around her about Julias anymore. The only person who normally didn’t give two shits about her dead lover was Jacob, and as infuriating conversations with her boss were, they were also liberating.

If Othello felt comfortable enough with her to invite her into his bed, again, she could feel comfortable enough to laugh at him, and appreciate the compliment.

“Can you just ... I mean, don’t actually start fucking in the middle of the cave, ok?”

“No worries, not gonna happen.” He gave her a lazy salute, and slipped his left hand back into Madison’s hair, earning a happy purr from her. A guiding grip eased the woman’s head back down, and she had to lean in while lifting her back to create the straight angle needed to get him to the base. But she managed it, mouth opened wide and lips spread around his girth, with a few licks sneaking in there. Othello had evidently trained her into a deepthroating pro.

“But, I guess I am being a stick in the mud,” Triss said. “Can you blame me?”

“Nope,” he said. “But, we are witches of the Circle, you know. We’re not Invictus, or Carthians, or Sanctified, and we’re definitely not dragons. We’re a small, seriously fucked up family.”

That, was damn nice of him to say, and she smiled at him for saying it.

“You just want a piece of my ass.”

“Ha, me? Madison here wants that ass just as much.” The hand in his ghoul’s hair slipped down her neck, down her naked back, and down to her ass. He gave it a slap, and used his right hand to keep Madison from lifting her head when she tried. Her ass rippled, and Triss licked a fang as she watched. Softer than Triss’s ass, but that didn’t change that it had the perfect shape and—

“Triss?” Jen said, head poking out from her alcove. Their shared alcove, really, since Triss and Jen slept together every dawn, these days.

“Wha? Ah, sorry, just ... distracted.”

Chuckling like she’d caught a kid with the cookie jar, Jen stepped out of the alcove and walked over to them. Except now she was naked, and everyone turned to watch the drop-dead gorgeous woman come join them. A woman of average height and tiny waist should not be allowed to have as many curves as Jen did. Her big tits and ass might not have been as big as Madison’s, but Jen was quite thin, giving her an almost Barbie doll look. Everyone had to watch when she decided to flaunt it. Though, when Madison tried to lift her head so she could gawk at Jen too, Othello forced her head back down onto him, balls deep. And from the shiver that went through Madison’s body, Triss could see the woman really got off on being dominated by her master.

Jen stopped beside Triss again, a bit closer to Othello, and gave him a gentle kick in the side. “Come on, leave Triss alone. She’s not like us.”

Othello grinned as he looked the naked Jen up and down several times. “Us? Been a while since you’ve been with your ghouls, Jen. Longer, since you’ve been with mine.”

Jen shrugged, squatted down beside the man, and smirked at Othello from only a foot away. Being naked in front of him meant nothing to her, except for maybe a fun game. The two of them were fucking bombshells, and they knew it.

“No, I haven’t, because I was...” Jen looked down, a bit of confusion on her face as she dug through some thoughts. But it faded after a while, hidden behind her poker face. She reached out, and flicked Othello in his big hard chest, causing him to wince and let go of Madison’s head, who took the opportunity to lift it and get a breath in. Which gave Jen the opportunity to reach out, and flick the man in his big hard dick.

“Hey, ow.” Othello frowned, but it only lasted for a moment before he laughed. They all laughed, a warm and oddly gentle sound. Even Madison laughed, and she leaned in, gave his dick a kiss like she was tending a booboo, before she took his length into her mouth again.

“Such a slut,” Jen said between chuckles. “Typical Daeva. Just wants to be the center of attention.”

Jen stood up, and the two women watched as Othello, still chuckling, leaned his head back against the alcove entrance wall, closed his eyes, and came in his ghoul’s mouth. The few shudders of his body were subtle, but the way the underside of his cock flexed with each gush of his cum pouring into his ghoul’s throat wasn’t. And, despite herself, Triss watched, eyes locked onto the man’s cock, or at least, the tiny sliver of it she could see under Madison’s lips.

He really did like being the center of attention. Hell, the man looked perfectly relaxed, content, and downright happy to be watched as Madison drank him. He really jived on the whole ‘family with benefits’ vibe the Circle liked to put out. And, maybe in another life, Triss would have thrown herself into the same orgy mindset. She loved being watched, and loved being the center of attention, too. Just, maybe not by a crowd of strangers.

Jen and Triss both gave Madison tiny finger waves, and went back to their alcove. Jen slipped under the furs, and Triss joined her, though she only took off her pants and boots. Not because she felt uncomfortable being naked with Jen or anything, just a habit. If her merger with the witches continued, maybe she’d end up like Othello, fucking her ghouls out in the open, and then falling asleep out in the open.

Or maybe she’d end up like Jacob, lost in an obsession with the occult. If she had to pick from the two, she’d probably go with the orgy mindset.

“So, what’re you gonna do?” Jen asked. Without looking for permission, or needing to be asked, Jen pushed her butt into Triss’s body, looking to spoon. And Triss spooned with her, because it was how they’d slept for weeks now, since Julias died.

“About Othello? I mean, I don’t really care—”

“Not about him.” Laughing, she turned to face Triss, and nudged their noses together. “I mean about, you know, what Black Blood asked.”

“I ... don’t know. It sounds like a good deal.”

“It sounds like you’ll become another Jacob.”

She snorted, half between chuckle and groan. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? Think BB’s told him about the proposal?”

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