My Little Ventrue Ch. 11

Sometimes she worried if her tall stature, greater age, or superior might would suddenly crush the boy's intrigue, as it had done to others before, but he returned her kisses with the same nervous joy as that first night in Bloodlust. Only Jacob could fully understand how lucky she genuinely was, and she did not envy the Witch his solitude.

With a warm chuckle, she sat up and started to comb her hair over her shoulder. When she saw Jack sit up and found his face frozen in a shocked, amazed expression, she blinked. She followed his gaze, and realized he was looking at her breasts. The silk had fallen from both their torsos, leaving their bare skin exposed. His eyes only made her smile.

"Already you lust for me? Were I not informed, I would assume you still kine."

"I... just I... um."

Neither of them had performed the blush of life again since their last bout, so their skin was pale, lifeless, and their frames slightly thinner. It was not enough to dissuade the boy's eyes though, and that made the Prince smile all the more.

How would she treat this? Hundreds of years ago, she could faintly remember such a time with Tony, when her sexual wiles had controlled him, when her teasing and use of sex as manipulation had been a source of amusement and confidence. She did not want that. She would not create another Tony.

All the mistakes she'd made with her childe crept into her mind. What could she do differently this time?

"... Jack." She put a hand to his chest, and his eyes raised to hers. Lovely, green eyes that bared the boy's honest soul so completely, it was sometimes painful for her to see. Now, she craved it. "I want you," she said, and gently pushed on his chest until he was laying down once more, "to come to me when you wish for my touch." She leaned over him, still sitting up and with a hand on his flat stomach, her heavy breasts hanging over him. "Do not be shy with me. Whenever you wish of it," she said, and traced her fingers along his abs, "and if I am available, I will gladly share it."

The boy Ventrue quirked a brow, more confused than ever. He did not know why she said such things, and that was fine. Her history with Tony was painful, and unneeded. She would do things better this time.

"Of course, my Prince."

Like a resonating note, the words rung clear and unmistakable. It was so obvious a barrier, and one she would have to throw away.

"... call me Antoinette."

The boy's eyes widened all the more.

"And I do not lie, little Ventrue, when I say I will gladly share my touch, my bed, even Ashley and Julee." While still leaning over him, sitting, and the boy on his back, she had one hand free to roam his body. She took his wrist, and placed his hand upon her other arm. "Whether you wish to be in my embrace, and rest against my bosom," her hand reached for his other wrist, and this time raised it to place his palm underneath the weight of her nearest breast, "or share in any carnal delight you can imagine."

The boy froze, eyes wide, jaw dropped. Apparently, her honesty had robbed him of speech. She could no longer hold back her laughter, and she let herself fall against him so her torso pressed to his. She put her cheek to his and snuggled against him, whispered sweet nothings to him, and held him under her with gentle hands. A few moments later, the boy finally responded, and raised his hands to hug her.

"Damn, um. Yes, my... Antoinette," he said. "Yes, gladly. And, uh, you can... well... yeah, you can do anything with me, any time. Not just physical too, you know?" He gave a tiny shrug and dopey smile, like joyful surrender.

Surrender. It was such a horrible word, one that a Kindred would never use as anything but insult or tragedy. Kindred were lone predators; their societies and covenants were created to force cooperation, not because of it. But to see the boy just give into her so completely, honest green eyes smiling up at her, his hands on her back and almost afraid to touch her, was overwhelming.

Part of her knew her Daeva blood was twisting this into obsession, but another part of her knew there was more. So much more. Dusty old words, long buried and forgotten, would have to be unearthed to make sense of it.

"I have only fifteen minutes time before I must prepare for my first meeting," she said, "but I am sure I can satisfy you in less, if you wish." She sat upright again with her weight on her hip, leaning over the boy, palm pressed to the blankets, free hand caressing his chest.

"I... really? Like... just like that?"

"Of course." She gave another warm chuckle, and this time, leaned further in until her breasts were hanging over his face. The boy, to her delight, had proved to be quite enamored with them. They were heavy, very large teardrops, and if not for her Kindred body, would have been a source of pain and frustration. She had long since learned to enjoy her great height and curvaceous figure though, even if some others found it intimidating instead of arousing. The fact that Jack found it to be both was delightful.

And when she blushed for him, the sight of his beautiful eyes opening even more wide was intoxicating.

She mouthed 'blush' silently, and the boy was quick to also perform the blush of life. Such a young man, that once his body took on the color and signs of a living human, his erection returned in seconds. With a chuckle, she watched his fake heartbeat cause his member to rise against the blankets, higher and higher, until she peeled the sheet away to reveal the naked boy. The way he squirmed, the way he struggled against his shyness, the way he avoided eye contact but kept sneaking glances at her naked body, it was all deliriously arousing.

She slid down the blankets a little further from him, got onto her hands and knees, and with an arched back to prowl and emphasize the curves of her form, she slipped between the boy's legs. He watched her like she were some fairy tail creature, those wide eyes of his struggling to grasp the reality of what she was about to do.

She got down onto her elbows, laid herself on her stomach between his legs, and took his member with one hand to point it up to her face. The boy sat up enough to put his weight on his own elbows, but otherwise did not move, paralyzed by her. Good.

Her lips found his shaft, and with ginger kisses, she brought her lips from the base of him up to the tip, while her hand eased the skin down to expose its head. The pink flesh of his glans was so swollen, she gave it a kiss as well, and Jack trembled under her touch. Another kiss, and again he shivered, with eyes drawn and mouth parted to moan quietly.

Jack was no supreme lover, or ladies' man. He had no large history with women, no well of experience to draw on. He was just a boy, barely a man, and that meant everything she did and everything she would do to him was a new moment of pleasure he had never experienced before. When she finally wrapped her lips around the whole of the head of his cock, that alone was enough to make him shudder, and when she suckled on it while drawing her lips back across its skin, he let out a blatant moan. Hers were the first lips he had ever felt on his body.

His inexperience was addicting.

She wanted to edge him toward orgasm. The sight of his eyes, eyebrows raised in pleasure, was making her mad with need, and she wanted more of that. She wanted to hold him down and slowly, over agonizing minutes, milk pleasure from him while gazing into his eyes.

And she would, for the moment. There was not enough time to really indulge, but there was enough to have a little fun. So she watched the poor boy squirm while she eased her lips back down along his ripe and swollen length, and yet again gave it gentle suckles while sliding her lips back and forth around the tip's base edge. While she did so, her hand around his member lightly stroked up and down, and her other sneaked down to find his testicles to softly tease and caress the skin with her fingertips.

The poor boy. He was already twitching with rising pleasure. His muscles were flexing, and his shaft was pulling against her lips with its gentle spasms, announcing his orgasm.

So she stopped.

He let out a relieved sigh, but his eyes spoke volumes. Begging. He was silently begging her to continue.

She kissed his cock in small, teasing pecks that raised from the base of him up to his glans once again, where his twitches brought out a couple drops of his precum. With a playful grin, she gently licked it off. Jack's eyes closed and his head rolled back in obvious bliss, but she gave the base of his shaft a hard squeeze, just hard enough to hurt a touch.

"Watch," she said, her voice soft but firm.

He raised his head, forced his eyes open, and watched her with those begging, green eyes. In turn, she watched him, gazed at him, grinned at him while she tilted his shaft to point toward her chin, and then eased her mouth down upon it. Her tongue danced along its underside while she slipped inch after inch into her mouth, before finally bringing her lips to the base of him.

"Oh... god...." He squirmed all the more, and she could feel him twitch inside her throat. To her delight, he did not break eye contact, despite how much his eyes tried to roll upward when she tightened her lips around the hilt of his length.

She stayed there for the moment. Air was no concern, and the boy's struggles were too scrumptious to resist tempting. Her tongue slipped out from between his flesh and her lip, and with a devious smile, slowly licked the underside of his cock where it joined his body. He started to pant, even moan quietly, but just as his member began to twitch once more, she stopped, and withdrew her attentions.

When she raised her head, another drop of precum had risen to the tip of his member; she kissed that one away as well.

"I'm... so close...."

"Tell me then, little Ventrue. Where would you like to cum?"

"I... what?"

She laughed. Oh Jack Jack. The boy could not see further than five seconds into his future, so she wrapped her hand around the base of him again, and gave more teasing kisses to his swollen glans. He was just on the edge of orgasm, and she could keep him there until it hurt if she wished it.

"Would you like to cum on my face, like this were some horrible pornographic video? No, that does not seem like you." She leaned forward, wrapped the whole of his cock's head in her lips again, and pulled them away in a suckling motion. His tortured, quiet groans were making her wet. "Perhaps on my breasts? Perhaps inside my mouth?"

His eyes were looking at her, over her, around her, and they were almost panicked with the question she'd posed. She drew his attention back to her eyes with yet another warm kiss to the underside of his length, and then the same along the swollen tip.

"... lips," he said. The Ventrue brushed so brightly she felt he might burst.

Of course, she thought. She'd spent the past ten minutes showing off how she could milk pleasure from him with her lips. Her lips were quite luscious and red when she blushed, and warm.

So she gave him that wicked devil smile she had long mastered, and put her lips over his glans again, but this time just enough to wrap half of it within her massaging embrace. The blush of life kept her lips warm for him, wet, inviting, and she gazed up at the boy with bedroom eyes while she kissed and suckled. All the while, one set of fingers caressed his testicles, and the other gripped the base of his cock with relaxed strength. Slowly, gently, she squeezed a little harder, worked her hand up a single inch, before sliding her grip back down.

He came in seconds.

The boy didn't look away. Such an obedient young man, even when the pleasure was so obvious on his face that it was practically pouring off of him. His panting was laced with moans, quiet ones that were close to whimpers, and when she gave his glans a slow suckle, she could feel she was walking the line of pleasure and painful stimulation.

But when his warm cum started to trickle out of him, she couldn't stop herself. All it took was a gentle kiss, just the smallest one, and the boy trembled in her grip. The first gush of his cum was a sharp spurt, and it splashed over his stomach. With a chuckle, she put her lips over the head of his cock, and this time made sure to catch the new waves of cum that flowed out of boy. The new trickles of his cum were slow, thick, and she kissed them to let them coat her lips in white. Warm wetness dripped down and onto her hands, pooling between her fingers working his length, and when she wrapped the whole of her mouth over his glans again, she let more of his cum slip free of her lips.

She held him on the edge of that pleasure pain threshold, lightly moaned onto his cock while she suckled the final bits of his cum from him, and let it fall down his length. For several minutes she coaxed those final bits of pleasure from Jack, milked it from him with centuries of practice, until the boy had practically melted into her bed.

"Sorry I... such a mess," he said. One of his hands reached out for his stomach, and he ran a finger through a small pool of his cum.

"One of the joys of being Kindred. When using the blush, your fluids like saliva, and cum," she emphasized the last word with a smack of her soaked lips as she sat up, "will fade to nothing but the faintest trace of dust in a few minutes." It was already starting to disperse. Delightfully convenient, it also meant the mess of his fluids over her hands and lips was fading.

"Oh. Then.... thank you."

Thank you? Ah Jack, silly boy. His awkwardness was enough to nearly have her in fits of laughter. "You are quite welcome. You do owe me though, and I expect you to repay me tonight, when you return."

"Return? Am I going somewhere?"

"Indeed. I have meetings for the next five hours. You should visit your sire during that time." She stood up and combed her hair over her shoulder, between her breasts. Her blush was still pumping fake life through her, and it kept her aroused. Very aroused. She wanted to pin the small man down, kiss him, hold him and slide his cock into her and squeeze him until her own juices were dripping down her thighs. How long had it been since she had felt such ravenous desire?

Later, later. For now, she relaxed her vitae and the blush ceased. Her skin thinned, paled, and her nipples no longer swelled with need. Fake hormones stopped pumping, saliva faded, and sexual desire along with it. Patience. She could indulge as much as she wanted later.

"I'm not looking forward to that conversation," he said.

She walked around the bed and stood over it beside him. He was such a young creature, and even now when he looked up to her, he couldn't hold eye contact for long before he looked away, a little shy, a little scared. So she leaned over him, ran a finger down his lips, and let her breasts sway directly over his head. His eyes opened so wide.

"Julias is a good man, and he deserves to know. Take care of your sire, and he will take care of you. And, if you do this," she said, and leaned down further to let her one of her heavy breasts nudge into his cheek and nose, "I will make sure you are rewarded."

She couldn't help but enjoy some teasing, just a little.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She waited.

Her legs were folded, her hands on her lap with fingers netted, and her gaze on the door of her meeting room. The same meeting room where she had killed and fed three of her kine prisoners to her new lover. A small smile managed to sneak its way onto the corner of her mouth before she suppressed it.

Now was not the time for smiles. Now was the time for dominance.

Jacob entered the room first. With only the two of them, there was just a small enough window to share a knowing glance, and even a nod. Behind him though, Garry stepped into the room. She truly wished the man would put on a nice suit instead of his jeans and other lowly clothing; if only he knew how easily he could pass for a dark James Bond. Such a waste.

Then there was Michael, a Gangrel like Garry but no where near as delightful; he was just a brute, a smart and dangerous brute. Behind him was Maria, ghost woman, and the sight of her always made Antoinette's withered heart ache. The few Nosferatu in her city often had trouble finding comfort in others, due to their disfigurements, and Maria's was one of the worst she had seen.

For a moment, she expected Viktor to follow in behind her, but her tensed blood settled when, instead of her most dangerous enemy back from the ashes, Julias walked through the door. Implications abound. Julias must have been summoned to replace Viktor, and if they thought him worthy of joining the meeting of primogen, it meant he was already promoted to a member of their council. It had only been twenty hours since the fire, which meant both Invictus had been hopeful of such an event. Good. That meant that Michael and Maria, whether they wanted to be or not, were her allies.

All her puppets danced beautifully under her strings.

When Tony did not follow, she was forced to look down. In a single second, memories of their time together, faded and worn in the centuries, were strong enough to flash before her. She could remember the smart and suave man at the dawn of the Romantic era; he was a painter.

Part of her even wanted to cry, but she pushed it aside. Tony was ash, and not only were they all better off, her new lover was his killer. She could wrestle with her conflicted emotions later.

If Daniel noticed her distress, he made no show of it. As per usual, he stood there quietly by her side, bless his damned soul.

"My primogen," she said, and motioned for them to sit at the glass table, "I have heard that Tony and Viktor were at the source of the fire last night. And they are not here. I can only assume the worst." She said it slightly too fast, slightly too obviously, with just a touch too much enthusiasm. Of course, she did it on purpose, and they knew it. It was enough to let them know she had a hand in their deaths, and that was plenty.

"... Indeed." Maria with her raspy voice was the one to talk first. How often it had been Viktor and Tony to talk first, to bitch and whine in their own, elderly ways. It was nice to hear the tiny woman speak, raspy voice included.

"You can guess why we have brought Mister Mire then," Michael said, and he gestured to Julias while he sat down.

Garry chuckled. "Not exactly a long time to mourn your twice dead. And this kid is who you brought to replace him?"

Julias gave Garry a tiny smirk. Jack's sire was barely a century old, a wolf in a den of tigers. But the man was intelligent, and more importantly, wise.

"If Viktor is truly dead, then... it is a shame. We saw what was happening to him. To take such a long torpor is a gamble," Jacob said.

Julias said nothing, but leaned back in his chair and shifted his gaze from elder to elder. What must be running through your mind now, Ventrue? To hear the most powerful Kindred of all Dolareido lament the trials of their age?

"We believe both Viktor and Tony were caught in the fire." Michael leaned in and put his elbows on the table. "But enough of this bullshit. We all know those two were going to going to keep getting in each other's way, and do more damage to the peace we've managed to secure here." Then, to the Prince's silent delight, the Gangrel gave her a thankful glance. "Dolareido is one of the few cities without active conflicts between the covenants. Viktor... Alder Honors and Tony would have ruined that."

"... perhaps they would have, Mister McDonald. If I had known Tony would become an anarchist, I would have...." She bit her tongue hard enough to spark some pain, enough to snap her out of sad memories. For all her control, a small crack had managed to slip into her voice. "We're quite the sad sight for our new primogen. I am sorry, Mister Mire, for this sorry state of affairs."