**Rebecca’s POV**
It was the early hours of the morning, the first rays of sunlight glinting off the castle’s stone walls. My steps echoed on the cold stone floor of the corridor as I strode purposefully toward Leonardo’s chambers. The rumors of vampires spreading through the city had been gnawing at my ears for days; as a lord, my brother needed to address this matter. We had to talk to bring this chaos under control. But deep inside, as always, there was that unsettling, suppressed feeling. Sothing I shouldn’t feel for Leonardo as his sister. *Foolishness*, I told myself, frowning. He’s my brother. Just my brother. These feelings were rely a reflection of our familial bond, nothing more.
When I reached his door, my hand was about to grasp the handle when I heard a sound. Soft but rhythmic, a moan seeping from within the room. I froze, my brows knitting together. What... was that? My ears locked onto the source: a woman’s voice, trembling, laced with pleasure, interwoven with Leonardo’s deep, commanding murmur. My heart quickened for a mont, but it was just shock, I assured myself. Curiosity, only curiosity. Through the crack in the door, in the dim glow of morning light filtering into the room, I peeked inside. And what I saw stole my breath.
Leonardo was on the bed, Annabel’s delicate fra pinned beneath him, moving with a wild yet controlled rhythm. Annabel’s face was buried in the pillow, her hips raised, her back arched; the silk sheets crumpled under her clawing nails. Leonardo’s hands gripped her hips tightly, his fingers leaving flushed marks on her skin with each thrust, dancing across her flesh.
Annabel’s moans rose, "Ahhh... My Lord!" filling every corner of the room.
Her blue eyes were half-lidded, her lips parted; she was shy yet surrendered to pleasure. Leonardo’s cock plunged deeply into her vagina with each motion, her body rippling with every thrust. The dying embers of the fireplace cast a faint glow on their skin, the scene both fiery and forbidden, like a taboo painting.
My breath caught in my throat. I wanted to tear my eyes away, but I couldn’t. Leonardo’s muscular body moved with the strength of a predator, yet the control of a lover. Annabel’s moans synced with his rhythm, the wetness of her vagina and the spill of Leonardo’s sen with each thrust creating a lewd, unmistakable sound that grew louder with every motion. The bite marks on her neck, her shoulders, the redness on her hips. They were proof of a night-long passion. And Leonardo... God, his wild, unstoppable energy... Sowhere deep inside , a fire I’d tried to suppress sparked to life. My vagina, against my will, trembled with a hot, wet response. *No. This is wrong. This is disgusting.*
I caught myself imagining I was in Annabel’s place. His hands gripping *my* hips, his cock moving inside **, surrendering to that savage rhythm... No! My mind rebelled against the thought. My brows furrowed in anger, my cheeks burned. I’m Rebecca. Stern, reserved, in-control Rebecca. A sister, just a sister.
These feelings... these vile, forbidden feelings were just a mont of weakness. But my eyes remained locked on the scene. Each of Leonardo’s thrusts drove Annabel’s moans higher, and that damned spark inside grew. My vagina, betraying my will, grew wetter. I was disgusted with myself.
"Leonardo... please... AHHHHHH!"
Annabel’s voice turned into a scream, her body trembling as Leonardo’s movents quickened. His cock buried itself in her vagina with one final, deep thrust, and in that mont, I saw her shudder with an overwhelming orgasm, filled with the warmth of his sen. Her nails dug into the sheets, her eyes half-closed, lips parted.
"AHHHH... Leonardo!" she cried, her voice echoing off the stone walls. Leonardo’s body shook with hers, but he didn’t stop, still fanning that fire.
Enough. I shut my eyes, clenched my teeth. *This is disgusting*, I told myself. I look at him as a sister, only a sister. But that damned feeling, that wetness, lied to . My anger mingled with sha; my cheeks burned with fury as I silently slipped away from the door. My steps echoed on the cold stone of the corridor, my heart still pounding. The vampire issue could wait. For now, I had to rid myself of these cursed feelings, these forbidden thoughts.
But Leonardo’s wild, passionate image was seared into my mind, and no matter how much I denied it, the fire within wouldn’t die...
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
**Leonardo’s POV**
What a glorious day, isn’t it? I felt as fresh as a newborn’s soft ass. In my second life, I’d finally reached the sacred for the first ti. Right now, I felt like a mountaineer who’d conquered Everest... but would a climber who’s summited Everest once still crave other peaks? What the hell am I even talking about?! My Everest is still curled up alone in her bed right now. Death itself is forbidden to until I’ve claid Willabelle.
Though, thinking about another woman while I had a captivating one in my arms made feel a bit guilty. Now that I think about it, if I’m going to have a harem, I can’t treat my won differently. That’s the responsibility of every harem-owning man. My won make the sacrifice of sharing , am I going to be so bastard who doesn’t treat them equally? Never! No matter what I feel inside, outwardly, I must love each one the sa.
I glanced down and saw Annabel resting on my shoulder, eyes closed, a sweet smile on her face. Her uneven heartbeat told she was still exhausted. I gently stroked her golden hair. She turned her head, and our eyes t. Her face flushed, and she looked away. Her reaction, unsurprisingly, was adorable.
"M-my lord... I-I... thank you for tonight..."
"Just call Leonardo. Or maybe if you like, darling, honey, or love."
Annabel’s cheeks turned the shade of a ripe tomato; she was burning with embarrassnt. Her trembling gaze darted to the bedsheets. She seed caught sowhere between sha and happiness. And ? Staring into her eyes, all I could think about was how often I wanted to see that expression.
"From now on, you can co to my room whenever you want. I can co to yours, too, if you don’t mind our son catching us."
As my words spilled out, a flicker of surprise crossed Annabel’s face. Her eyes widened briefly, then a shy smile curled at the corners of her lips. She bowed her head, a trace of satisfaction seeping through her bashfulness.
"Lucareth... he falls asleep late that night... But if we’re careful... it should be fine."
"I’m good at being careful," I said with a teasing grin. It was true. Even in my old life, caution was one of my top survival skills. In this new life, it was my most valuable weapon for both survival and dominance.
I leaned back against the edge of the bed. My eyes lingered on Annabel, but my mind had already drifted elsewhere. To Lucareth’s role in this world. To Willabelle. And of course... to Magnus. The rightful hero of the original story.
Nothing was "original" anymore.
"Lord... I an... L-Leonardo." Annabel’s voice pulled from my thoughts.
I turned my head. Our eyes t. There was a question in hers. Maybe an expectation. Maybe the echo of a dream she still wanted to confirm.
"I..." she said, then paused, biting her lip. "Was this... just one night?"
Ah, the classic question. The faint fear trembling at the edge of a woman’s heart. The ancient instinct trying to discern whether the body she clung to offered just flesh or promised devotion. And ? I stopped keeping track of what I promised to whom long ago.
I smiled. But before answering, I reached out and caressed her cheek. Soft, delicate skin. Still unbroken, still unbetrayed.
"Didn’t you hear what I just said? We can do this again whenever you want. You’re mine now."
Annabel’s eyes sparkled. Like a child who’d finally picked her favorite doll from the toy shelf. Sothing stirred in , maybe guilt. Or, more likely, the fear of losing sothing I already possessed.
"So... does that an I’m your woman now?"
I looked at her. That shy glow still on her face, a shadow of surrender in her eyes. And sowhere deep inside, a small, dark part of urged to savor that surrender.
"Yes, you’re my woman," I said, lacing my voice with possessive warmth. Then I looked into her eyes more closely. There was sothing there. As if my words had both soothed her and ignited a new spark. Curiosity, perhaps. Or worry.
"Sothing’s clearly on your mind," I added. "Don’t hold back. Tell ."
Annabel lowered her head slightly. Her fingers twisted the edge of the blanket. She let out a trembling breath. There were words she was weighing in her silence. Then, softly, she spoke:
"I... I know what it ans to be a count’s woman. Just..."
She lifted her eyes to mine. It was the look of soone who couldn’t muster the courage to finish her sentence. But I finished it for her. Because I already knew what she was going to say.
"Just," I said, "you’re wondering what your place will be... if there are other won in the future?"
For a mont, her eyes glistened, but she didn’t cry. She fought that emotion within herself. There was sothing admirable about this woman. She didn’t want to break, but she didn’t deny she could.
She nodded slowly. "Yes... maybe a little."
I gently placed my hand over her fingers. At my touch, she relaxed, letting go of the crumpled blanket. I leveled my gaze with hers.
"Annabel," I said, rolling her na on my lips like a prayer. "One day, there might be other won. Maybe there has to be. To be honest, I want there to be."
Her eyes stayed steady, but they paled slightly. She understood. She had no choice but to understand. This world didn’t bless won who understood, but it let them survive.
"But I want you to know this," I continued. "If another woman enters my life one day... I’ll love her the way I love you. But that doesn’t an it’ll take anything away from you. You’ll sit on your own throne. No matter how crowded my harem becos... there’ll be a separate throne for each, an equal crown. And no one will ever move yours."
The pallor in her cheeks faded. A fragile trust blood in her eyes. I wasn’t lying, at least not about this. What I told her was the truth that needed to be said. And truths in this world were rarely gentle.
Annabel lowered her head, resting her forehead against my chest. Her arms wrapped around again, not in the heat of a fleeting night, but in the quiet peace that followed my words.
"Thank you," she said. "I... I just don’t want to be left on the sidelines."
Reviews
All reviews (0)