Chapter 18

Randomir paces a hand behind the witch’s neck and threads his hand in her hair. Penelope is yanked to her feet where her mouth is brought around to match his. The vampire is surprisingly gentle and his lips nibble at hers. The world around her vanishes and all she feels is his lips against hers. She feels like it is a promise of things to come.

What the hell is going on?

Penelope feels him against her ear, nuzzling her neck, saying, “I know who you are. I expected to have to search for you. Never did I think you’d end up at my doorstep.” Lowly his hand runs up her leg with his fingernails gently scratching up her inner thigh.

Did I say I think we’re in trouble? I meant to say we’re in a whole world of it.

The slow stroke seems to take forever to bring his hand between her legs, but he stops right before the spot that she is suddenly aching to be touched at. When he continues to kiss her neck, the girl thinks she will lose her mind.

You’re under his spell. Break out if it and do that thing you did with that one vampire guy.

“I can’t...” the witch whispers.

Randomir pulls away from her. Penelope looks up into his eyes, and the space there is like a void of eternity. “You will,” he says not understanding that the comment was not meant for him. Regardless, the girl looking into the deep pit of nothingness makes her realize that she is done for. Whatever grip she seems to have on her new powers is not going to help her. She is not powerful enough. She doesn’t have a grip tight enough on them either. Her thoughts are lost when he grabs her for a searing kiss.

This isn’t good. You need to break from his spell.

The vampire master’s strong hands are on either side of the witch’s face, threading his fingers in her hair. She feels the wendigo’s blood on her face, knowing that it is now in her hair. He positions her for his kiss. It is a kiss where he is clearly taking something away from her. And to make it worse, he is in complete control. All thoughts leave her. In fact, whatever he is doing causes Hazel’s voice to drift off with them. All the girl is left with is sensation. She leans into that kiss as it makes her feel like she is on fire.

“Penelope, left me inside you,” he whispers.

The witch nods, not really understanding what it is he means by that, just that she is supposed to acquiesce to his request. He then turns her, maneuvering the girl to the wall and pressing his entire body against her. She feels his erection rubbing against her and everything tightens. She now understands why all the vampires are naked. It makes sex uncomplicated. There is no need to undress and work the imagination to wonder what’s beneath. Everything is laid bare and they are ready to go without delay. Penelope’s nipples, her belly and he ache below explode, sending out ripples like a shock wave as a star has gone supernova. And then he is lifting her by the grip beneath her jaw.

The witch wonders if it is possible to orgasm from just a kiss as she is lost in theirs. The kiss seems to go on forever like the blackness of his eyes, of his heart. She wonders where Hazel had gone for she is missing out big time.

Then she feels the vampire dragging his mouth down her neck and collarbone. He touches her nipple with his lips. The thing actually gets even harder. The witch bites her lip, watching what used to be a man, now a creature of the night engrossed with her breasts. He sucks them hard, even biting them and then soothing away the sting with his tongue. The girl is in turmoil. She is in heaven. She feels a combination of sensations and not one of them can be named individually. She is ready to combust.

Without thinking, Penelope’s hands come down to play with his hair. Randomir pushes away from her, leaving the witch with her back pressed to the wall. Even though she is no longer in his grasp she still feels helpless and suddenly alone. But these feelings quickly vanish when he returns, kissing her mouth, then her ears and neck. His mouth finds her breasts again. This time his is rough with them. He twists and bites them again and again, but soothing them just the same with soft kisses.

The vampire master leans back and looks at her. His stare is intense, his hand dragging up her body, using his fingernails to slightly scratch at her flesh. And ever so slowly, he eventually makes it up to her neck and then down her arm to her wrist. He takes her hand and places it on his hardness. “Do you feel this? It is for you,” he says, looking in her eyes. “I would normally make someone of your caliber mine forever so that you may worship me for eternity. But alas that is not my mission. Instead, you will have to worship my dick at this time.”

Penelope goes to stroke it. She understands. Somehow she understands his words. But he snatches her hand away, shaking his head. “I want to touch it,” the girl says in a moan, mindless with need.

“No not yet.” Then his mouth is on hers yet again. He drugs her with his kisses, working her with that skillful tongue of his. The witch can only sit there, enjoying him and wishing that she could show him how much she appreciates his ministrations. How much she needs him. How much she wants him. Randomir moves his hands down the sides of her body. He has to know that she is maddeningly wet. So she arches her hips to increase the contact. The vampire slides his fingers over her mound, pressing them between her folds. “So wet,” he utters.

Penelope begins to pant at his touch. At this he breaks away from the kiss to watch her. He rubs his digits back and forth as she soars higher and higher against his fingers. The witch bites her lip again, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against the wall while ecstasy racks through her. Her world shifts as he then picks her up and lays her on the ground. Her head lolls and it is just enough to see Nedkid Woodflayer still curled up in a ball in the corner of the pit against the wall. The sight of him is brief because her attention is quickly taken right back to the vampire when he lies next to her and begins exploring her body.

He again assaults the girl’s breasts. And then he is moving down her belly, kissing her lower and lower. Randomir’s hands run over her hips. “I love the smell of a witch,” he remarks just before his mouth muscle slithers through her wet folds. The friction of his tongue against the witch’s sensitive flesh has her eyes rolling to the back of her head. The vampire strokes her folds, seeking out her clit with his tongue and eventually his teeth. He lightly bites down. As quickly as he does that, he seems to change his mind, rolling the girl over and pulling her hips up so that she is on all fours. He strokes her ass briefly then reaches up to thread his fingers in her hair again.

Strangely, he is far gentler than she would imagine him being. From Ned’s descriptions of the wendigo, and the feelings she sensed from the beast, Penelope wouldn’t reckon the vampire lord being any different. Maybe those that can survive Kinrong’s brutality prove their ability to become loyal to their new master. A chill runs through her at the thought that she could be his. Sadness follows at not understanding why she cannot.