Christof’s limousine pulled up to the Montague sisters’ mansion, and his cock stirred at the thought of what awaited him inside. He had been locked in a seductive dance with Rochelle for centuries and was eager to see how this latest tryst would end.
His imagination ran wild as his driver came around to open the door for him. “Thank you, Jeffrey.”
“Should I wait, sir?”
“No. I’ll call you when I’m ready to leave. This could be an all-nighter.” I hope.
Jeffrey gave him a knowing glance, surely remembering Christof’s tales of past rendezvous at the estate. “You are one lucky vampire, Mr. Rosenbaum.”
Christof laughed and smacked his driver on the back then stuffed a roll of hundreds in the younger immortal’s pocket. “Why don’t you find yourself a good time, too? I shouldn’t be the only one having fun.” He raised a hand to dismiss Jeffrey and blazed a path to the front door.
Stefan answered the doorbell with his usual veneration and ushered Christof into the great room to wait for Rochelle and Laureline. The Louis XIII Cognac he loved, mixed with AB negative blood, sat on the marble coffee table, calling to him. On their own, each seduced the palate, but together they were sheer liquid bliss.
“Ah Stefan, you spoil me.” He sat back on the plush sofa, crystal tumbler in hand, swirled the heady concoction, and took a sip.
“It is my pleasure, Mr. Rosenbaum.” Stefan nodded and went on his way.
Christof allowed some of the drink to linger in his mouth for a few seconds. The sweet and spicy liquid teased his tongue then glided down his throat. Comforting warmth spread through his body as the reverie overtook him.
After only a few sips, soft footsteps approached, and the scents of fragrant perfumes drifted his way. The two distinct bouquets entwined into an intoxicating aroma. Within a few moments, the petite beauties stood behind him, though he didn’t rise to greet them.
“Christof, dear, how have you been?” Rochelle slid her hand around him, delicate fingers slipping between the buttons of his shirt, stroking his nipple. She nibbled his ear then slowly licked downward until her fangs scraped hungrily along his neck.
His cock stiffened, ready to fuck the auburn-haired courtesan. “Shelly, love. You must stop before I take you right here in front of your sister.”
Laureline giggled. “I wouldn’t mind watching.”
Christof peered over his shoulder as Stefan returned, this time with drinks for the twin vampires. “For you, mistresses. I hope it pleases.” He handed the women their glasses and bowed in reverence.
“Dearest Stefan, everything you do pleases us.” Rochelle smiled sinfully, but Stefan retreated too quickly to notice.
Christof turned to Laureline. “Lori, you may watch, join in, or whatever strikes your fancy, love.”
Her emerald eyes sparkled above a seductive grin. Reaching back, he cradled her hand and placed a gentle kiss on her alabaster skin.
The women sashayed to the front of the sofa where he could admire their bodies, his gaze roaming provocatively over them. For small women they had a plethora of delicious curves, and those tight little dresses accentuated all of them.
Rochelle offered her hand for a kiss. “Given how much you contribute to our grand estate, it is about what strikes your fancy, not ours.”
But all the money he’d given them over the years was nothing compared to what he had received in return.
Surrounding him on the sofa, they placed their drinks, and his, on the table, and skimmed their hands over him suggestively. His fangs emerged as his arousal increased, tightening his groin and sending jolts of electricity throughout his body.
Laureline caressed his cheek, and he tilted his head toward her feather-soft palm, while Rochelle rubbed his throbbing erection that already threatened to explode at any moment.
Gratitude for his heightened vampiric senses washed over him, their touches more intense than if he were still human. Every nerve ending hypersensitive.
He threaded his fingers through Laureline’s hair and pulled her to him firmly. He kissed her with a force that would have bruised a mortal’s lips.
Fangs grazed his neck again—Rochelle apparently doing her best to work him into a frenzy—leaving a warm trail of moisture near the edge of his collar.
Too quickly his neck was left abandoned, and Rochelle moved to stand in front of him. She eased him out of her sister’s grasp. “Come, Christof…”
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