Ch. 6

Of course, Josef mused, at some point his own blood loss was going to catch up with a vengeance. Not that he cared in the least, not with Beth and Mick both displayed on his bed like some kind of elegant buffet. Mick's two perfect punctures adorn Beth's throat like an alluring tattoo, enhanced by the almost artful trail of blood slipping along her golden skin. He moves to straddle her, laying kisses up the centerline of her body to place one final feather-light kiss at the hollow of her throat. Josef can feel the weight of Mick's jealousy, so palpable in the air that is almost as if an uninvited fourth guest has joined them. Poised over Beth's unresisting body he turns his head to Mick with a sardonic smile, "You won't actually snap my spine for taking her first, but I'll spare you the embarrassment of trying and failing." He rolls to one side lazily, gesturing imperiously for Mick to take over.

For all the protests that it wasn't about sex, it certainly looks to be about sex when Mick pulls Beth up to her knees and guides her thighs to each side of his hips. Josef has to give his own cock a stern mental reminder that his role is "wise master of safe human-vampire sex" and not "teach Beth the joys of double-penetration" before kneeling up behind her. Even so, the soft curve of her ass brushing his length nearly tempts him to opt for the second duty. He takes Beth's hands in his own and leans her forward to place them both palm down on the sculpted planes of Mick's chest. Only when he feels Beth's elbows lock solidly to brace her weight does he lean back slightly to span her narrow waist with his own pale fingers. Deliberately he captures Mick's attention and blinks, once, again, and on the third blink pushes Beth's pelvis down.

Her scream is not one of pain nor of pleasure, but of both and neither all at once – impaled on Mick's erect cock that in his current state of painful arousal is as unyielding as the marble flesh of an ancient Greek statue. Josef confines her in place, locking his own hips tight against the firm smooth muscles of her buttocks. The trap grounds her, steadies her breathing, allowing her body to adapt to the invader. Its a respite he can't let continue, observing Mick's own battle to remain still beneath them. He slides one hand down Beth's belly and seeks out her clit, coaxing her body back to a fever pitch. A long moment passes where the only movement in the night is the persistent stroke of his fingers over her center. Even when his efforts are rewarded Beth stays silent, but Mick emits a long growl of frustration at the intensity of her spasms around his most sensitive organ.

Some things never lose their beauty – Josef has observed many couples engaged in the primal act of sexual congress, and yet he never tires of the sight. The graceful rise and fall of Beth riding Mick is somehow hypnotic, so completely immersed in each other that Josef has to tuck his guilt into an out of the way corner of his mind to avoid regarding himself as a third wheel. Rubbing his face over Beth's shoulders and neck, deeply inhaling the scent of her passion at last he becomes a predator; awaiting the perfect opportunity to strike. He needs no enhanced vampire senses to gage Mick's condition - every stroke is punctuated by a sibilant hiss of breath and he takes a mental memo to ride the boy about his vocal nature at a later date.

When Mick at last loses himself, the force of his orgasm drives Beth once more to the pinnacle of pleasure. Josef waits precious seconds as she writhes in his grasp and just as she begins the slow glide back down he stabs into her neck. Beth. This is the flavor of life itself: the burning essence of her soul distilled to purest ambrosia. Nectar of the gods, one sweet drop more precious than gold, one taste more addictive than heroin, one mouthful worth waiting a hundred years to swallow. He lets her heart alone feed him in rapid bursts, never letting himself draw at the vein, savoring each pulse like the rarest of delicacies. Never much given to regret, Josef can still appreciate the irony that feeding like this is the most inhuman of acts – and the only one that makes him feel alive.

Perhaps to a human, vampire eyes are a mystery. Josef locks his own crystalline gaze with Mick's glacial stare and it is all too easy to decipher the emotions within. Beth is no longer a barrier between them – she is a bridge connecting them. Mick loves not her, but the fleeting intensity of her mortality. Turned, Mick's obsession with her would fade, as the raging fire of her soul faded to the lingering glow of unchanging immortality. Josef knows his own eyes are sad as they darken back to the colors of his human guise.

He leaves them there in his bed to bask in the afterglow, murmuring to one another of love in voices his hearing is too sharp to ignore. Silently he dons a robe of midnight silk and prowls along the dark corridors of his home. Pausing at the sideboard, he pours himself a glass of cognac before seeking out the haven of his walk-in freezer. Death has its merits, one of which is certainly sharing a beautiful woman with his best friend. A woman who will burn out her life, unable to sustain the attentions of two immortal lovers, leaving at the last only ashes. For tonight he lets his friend hold tight to his illusions – when the time comes and Mick loses Beth forever, Josef will be ready to pick up the pieces.