Page 38 of Vampire Visions

The head of his dick replaced his fingers, pushing and pulling back, just to push a little further in. His hands were on my hips, fingertips digging into my flesh with bruising force. I moaned around the tape, a bit giddy to have my voice this time. “A gag ball would be more fun,” I teased him mentally. “I have a few of those at home.”

A soft chuckle accompanied him slamming balls deep into me. I left the gate to my thoughts open since he couldn’t hear my vocalized curses, and that first, “Oh fuck,” set his pace. Hard and fast, over and over. It felt like Palmer was rewarding and punishing me at the same time.

When he hit that glorious spot inside me, my body lit up. I urged him to do it again, and again, and again. The table screeched under us, dragging across the hardwood floor with his final few thrusts. When I clenched around him, he tumbled after me with a masculine groan. My orgasm shattered my mind, every word that spilled into Palmer’s was a tangle of nonsense.

When he eased out of me, the chains disappeared, almost of their own accord — probably from a wave of his hand. I uncrossed my arms and rubbed at my elbows as he lowered my dress. I stood, straightening the front, and tucked my boobs back into place.

I gave him a soft smile, checking to make sure he couldn’t still access my thoughts. My mind latched onto that feeling again. Reward and punishment? It was the latter that was tripping me up, but I’d just file it away for now. I knew it wasn’t a random thought of any sort. I couldn’t figure out why just yet. I had one question that was more important. “Are you going to get all weird and distant with me again now?”

Palmer looked over at me, confused and… was that stunned? “I thought ya wouldn’t’ve noticed.”

In a very unladylike gesture, I swiped my hand up the inside of my thigh, catching his cum and wiping it on my dress. I’d change, and who was I lying to? Me? Ladylike? I laughed, at myself and him. “Of course, I noticed.” I wrapped the edge of my dress around my fingers, trying to get the stickiness off. “I’ll tell you like I told Vaughn; whatever it is that you don’t want to tell me, it’s not going to change my mind. I can tell that you’re hiding something, Palmer, but I won’t pry. Tell me when you’re ready, or not. Just know, it won’t make me like you any less.”

He sighed, refusing to meet my eyes. “Yes, Love. It will.”

16

Sloane

Friday Evening

It wasn’t long after I’d left Palmer, and changed clothes again, that I heard the tell tale sign of two of my paternal parents. Dad and Papi had finally arrived, and from the sounds of their conversation, they were bickering at the front door.

“Oh, children!” My dad’s booming voice echoed through the house. He was the loudest person I’d ever met, and I knew he’d be hellbent on embarrassing Jack and I. That was one thing he and Lucy always agreed on. Embarrassing our children is a parental right, they’d say. I rolled my eyes at the memory.

“Really, Charlie?” I could imagine Papi pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. It was his usual response when it came to Dad. “We’ve been inside the house for three seconds. Give them a few minutes before you make them squirm.”

“It’s my parental right. How many times did they give us hell as children? It’s our turn for payback.” Dad probably had his hands on his hips as he gave Papi a smartass look. “Now. Where are my children? I haven’t seen Jack in months, and I haven’t talked to either of them in a week.”

I padded down the hallway, well aware that I was about to get mauled with questions. As I turned the corner, I couldn’t help but smile at them. They looked silly. The Devil and the Supreme Alpha were whispering and giggling like schoolgirls. Papi was leaning into Dad’s ear, his hand cupped to keep his words from escaping. Dad’s shoulders were shaking, and his eyes glistened with unshed tears as he tried not to laugh.

My dad, Charles King, was a doting and protective parent, where Samuel King was encouraging and calm. Though they were both centuries old, they looked like they were still in their late twenties or early thirties. Dad’s dark tan and worn t-shirt made him appear kind of lazy when standing next to Papi. In black slacks and a ‘casual’ blazer, Papi was business ready.

The creamy caramel color of Papi’s skin and his black hair were the only traits he’d gotten from his mother, Lilith. Other than that, he was the spitting image of his father, Lucifer. His build was athletic compared to Dad’s broad and bulky body. Charles King was every bit the alpha that his title claimed he was. Samuel King was just as devious and intimidating as you’d expect the Devil to be. They both had a soft spot for Jack and me, though.

I watched them for a few moments, knowing they knew I was there but too into their giggle fest to stop gossiping. Jack was rounding the corner from the kitchen when they finally turned their attention to me. At least I wouldn’t suffer alone.

Dad threw his hand onto his chest. “Look, Sam. Our loving children have come to welcome their parents.” Papi rolled his eyes, Jack groaned, and I just shook my head at him. “What?” He scoffed at us. “At least introduce me to your boyfriends before you banish me to another part of the house.”

“Fuck my life right now,” I mentally whispered to Jack. He nodded his agreement.

Dad was already shaking his head at us. “Nope. Don’t do your mind speak thing to keep secrets from me.”

Papi had a fisted hand covering his mouth to hold back his laughter. “You’ve already met them, you old dog. Stop harassing the kids. You haven’t even gotten a hug yet.”

Dad surged forward, wrapping his tree trunk arms around Jack and me. I leaned my head around Dad’s arm to give Papi an evil look, and he cackled as he walked by. “Devil,” Jack hissed at Papi, who shrugged his shoulders with a smirk on his face.

“Why do you smell funny?” Dad asked… us?

“Uhm.” Jack pulled away as he laughed nervously. “Me or her?” He pointed at me with his thumb.

“Her.”

Jack shot me a grin. “Probably all the sex she’s been having.”

“Traitor!” I yelled into his mind, resisting the urge to punch him in his throat so he couldn’t say anything else that horrifying.

“It’s not that,” Dad acknowledged. “It’s something else. I mean, it’s probably a little of that, too, but I’d rather not think about that.” He gave us both narrow-eyed looks. “Or hear it while I’m here.”