Rating = R
NOTICE: The relationship, for lack of a better word, between sires and their childer isn’t considered the same as between mortal parents and children, as there is no common genetic structure, only common vampiric bloodlines. The use of words like “daughter” or “sibling” don’t hold the same connotations and the words “childe” or “broodmate” (a vampire’s childer being sometimes called a brood) can be substituted. Thus explained, readers need not be turned off by potential misunderstandings of incest.
As she glided toward her Sire and Prince, her awareness of self disappeared. She was no longer Kurai’s childe Tenshi no Ankoku. She was everything her most basic nature demanded – a dark, swirling combination of the taboos placed on society’s women. If she desired it, it was hers; a primal claiming no human could dare imagine and few of her kindred dared pursue.
When she halted in front of him, his eyes needy and breath harsh, she tilted her head slightly to one side. As if a statue, the Dark Prince held still as his daughter breathed deeply, scenting him. A brief pause before her pale hand reached up and buried itself in his think black hair. Nails threatened to pierce his nape as his head was pulled downward, her green eyes loomed closer, burning into his before courage left him and dark lashes covered his own deep brown.
Their kiss was not gentle; she crushed her mouth to his and he gave way. Fangs clashed and tore upon soft lips; tongues swirled, dueling for control and lapping crimson from the other. Her hand clutched tighter, her nails lengthened of their own accord and pierced the back of his neck. The resulting sound was both whimper and moan as she thrust his face away from her as swiftly as she’d pulled it down.
Burgundy lipstick worn violently away, lips bruised now with their own passionate hue. Black nails, now lengthened to talons, ripped the silk dress shirt from neck to navel. The length of skin exposed was darker than her own, a token of a heritage belonging not to her fairer-skinned race. It delighted her, the contrast between moon-pale and sunkissed-dark. From the dark line of hair arrowing south’ard to the toned muscled planes of his torso… she ran her eyes coldly over every inch. He dared not open his own lest he cause her to stop.
Quick as a flash, the childe removed her hand from his neck and raked both sets of ebony down his front. Ten slashes accompanied his sharp intake of breath. Ten lines of dark red liquid flowed, soaking into black denim. Ten paths of sweet agony traced inch by snail-paced inch with an already bloodstained tongue.
His breath came in spasms now, then ceased altogether. All of his attentions had focused on the demonangel before him, all in his mind was how little give denim has when he was straining against it. That small pleasurepain was simply a side dish to the filling, satisfying burn of his chest.
Her own self came back to her then, and Tenshi no Ankoku smirked. The zing of Kurai’s power sang in her veins and his blood still wet her lips. In stark contrast to their beginning, the dark princess kissed him once more softly.
Leaving him with the taste of his own life in his mouth was a small thank-you, double-edged in the giving. Ankuko had given him the violence she’d promised, but only enough of the sex to make her Prince hard and wanting her before she left.
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