Page 56 of Little Doll

I grabbed Ren’s hips and pushed and pulled her little body savagely. The tattoos on her chest, her neck, her arms, her breasts, her flat stomach… They all seemed to writhe and dance as though they were each experiencing a separate fucking of their own.

“Yes, Fane,” she seethed. “Yes, yes…”

My mind was in some sort of hazy nowhere space. My heart was hammering so fast it felt like it wasn’t even beating at all anymore. I was just floating. Barely aware of Nova’s soft, trembling lips on my neck.

“That’s right,” Carmilla purred.

Nova’s hair splayed across my chest. Some of Carmilla’s blood that had drenched Nova rubbed onto me. I could smell it mingling with my sweat and Ren’s hot arousal and my cock twitched inside my lover.

Nova’s little sharp teeth slipped into my pulsing vein.

My body stiffened for a brief second, but it was long enough to cause Ren to tremble and convulse on my cock, writhing like a woman possessed as she came so hard that she fell against my chest.

My mind catapulted past any level of need I’d ever reached before. I was so desperate that everything became fuzzy and quiet around me. Everyone seemed like they were moving slower than they were, and their voices sounded slow and distorted. My cock remained rock hard inside of Ren, who was stone still, perhaps passed out on my chest.

Nova didn’t make a single sound as she sucked my blood.

Every nerve ending in my entire being was hot.

And then it ran cold.

I stiffened again. Agony seeped into my veins at the same time that blood throbbed to the head of my cock. Ren’s pussy clenched around me.

“Don’t stop, Nova,” Carmilla prodded.

I could feel my blood grow cold and slow, getting slower.

After what seemed like an eternity, Nova whimpered and let go of my neck, falling backwards on her pillow.

Her hair slid over my chest, and I grabbed Ren’s hips and held her tight on my cock while I came so hard that I roared into her wild copper hair.

Chapter 25

Nova

Fane’s blood tastedbitter and poisonous, and it was cold before he was even dead. But I knew when he died because I saw something.

My eyes slammed shut, and I was transported. To a small, dingy room and a young woman who was dirty and thin, wearing tattered clothes. She sat in a derelict wooden chair next to a potbelly stove. She held a wee dark-haired child on her lap. She clung to him and howled. The little boy wrapped his arms around her neck and also cried.

A big broad-shouldered man wearing a coat with a hood obscuring his face strode across the room and took the little boy out of his mother’s arms. The little boy screamed and kicked, hopelessly attempting to fight off the big man. The mother lowered her face into her hands,sobbing. But she did nothing to try to stop the man from taking her child.

The vision left me feeling even more awful than I already felt with my brother’s dying blood on my tongue. I was eaten alive by regret and shame, choking on his blood. But my shame would only worsen.

When my venom took effect, snaking into his blood cells and returning him from the brink of eternal death, the spasms caused me to come so violently that I passed out.

Echoes of Fane and Ren’s ecstasy followed me into the darkness.

I couldn’t bear to check in on Fane during his three days of letting the infection work its way through his veins. I couldn’t bear to see the revolving torturous nightmare of pain and arousal that his writhing, sweating, black veined body would go through.

I couldn’t bear to see what I had done.

Three days later, Ren came to me and told me he was done. He was safe and well. I still didn’t want to visit him, but she begged me and guilted me into going. He was in another stone tower room like mine, another story in the same spiralwhere I lived, I supposed. When Ren led me into the room, he was finishing dressing. He turned when we entered and bestowed upon us the most dazzling smile I’d ever seen. Fane was always a dashing and darkly handsome man.

But now, he was devastating.

His long limbs moved fluidly like he was liquid flowing instead of a man moving. His voice was lower with a slight sexy rasp to it. His hair was even longer, falling in smooth waves down his back. When he smiled at us, his fangs extended.

He was ready to go out on the town. I thought it was a terrible idea, but unsurprisingly, no one listened to me. Carmilla and Varney arrived in their own carriage out front, and Fane and Ren piled into it to accompany the ancient pair into London. Despite their repeated attempts to get me to go, I refused.

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