The room was enveloped in the bluish twilight of the moonlight filtering through the velvet curtains.

The only sound, besides panting breaths and muffled moans, was the wet, lascivious rhythm of flesh pressing against flesh.

Serafall, on all fours on the bed, arched her back at a perfect angle, offering herself completely. Her face was buried in the pillow, but her half-closed eyes were fixed on the sleeping figure in the bed beside her.

Victor, sweating, his back muscles tense beneath his skin, moved with fierce determination.

Each thrust was deep, calculated, seeking the most sensitive spot within her. His hands gripped Serafall’s hips firmly, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh, marking it with the intensity of the act.

"Ahh~ You’re going so deep... where are you trying to get to, huh?" Serafall whispered, her voice a thread of provocation and ecstasy mixed together.

She tightened her inner walls around him, a warm, deliberate squeeze. "Such a... devoted... son to his mother."

The teasing of her pussy made Victor let out a guttural grunt.

He slowed the pace, but deepened the angle, rubbing the head of his cock directly against the entrance of her uterus, that almost painful point of sensitivity that made Serafall’s eyes roll back.

"We’re doing this... Hhgg..." Victor groaned, panting, his voice trembling with emotion and effort.

His gaze drifted for a second to Natasha, motionless, her dark hair spread across the pillow, her breasts rising and falling in a slow, peaceful rhythm.

"While she... sleeps so innocently... beside us."

Natasha, who until then had been put to sleep in Serafall’s bed after the squirting incident, was literally beside them while they were fooling around.

Serafall laughed, a low, husky sound of pure debauchery. She arched her back even further, forcing Victor into an even deeper angle. A spasm of pleasure coursed through his body.

"It’s entirely her fault," she murmured, her voice heavy with burning disdain. "She was completely satisfied, she came just from drinking a little blood... crazy. She left us with... Uh... with this tension in the air. I don’t care~"

She rotated her hips, massaging him from the inside. "She’s asleep. We... we’re alive. Feel... feel how alive I am for you."

Victor couldn’t take it anymore.

The combination of overwhelming physical pleasure, Serafall’s verbal provocation, and Natasha’s sleeping presence broke his control.

His movements became disordered, deep, and rapid, desperately seeking his own release. The sound of their bodies meeting grew louder, wetter, almost a challenge to the silence of the room. Serafall, sensing him on the verge of orgasm, bit the pillow to stifle a sharp cry as her own wave of pleasure hit her. Her body trembled violently, her internal contractions milking Victor mercilessly.

He pulled her against him in one last, deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt with a hoarse, muffled groan that sounded like both a prayer and a curse.

Inside her, the sensation was intense, overwhelming.

Victor’s hot, pulsating jets still seemed to echo deep within her womb, each pulse a brutal affirmation of possession. Serafall let out a long, satisfied moan.

"Anh~" a sound that was pure carnal gratitude.

A slow, lascivious smile spread across her lips as her body, still trembling with the afterglow of orgasm, absorbed that intimate, warm presence.

"Four months without sex does this to you~" she murmured, her voice hoarse and drunken. Her already sensitive inner muscles tightened gently and possessively around the still-rigid member that filled her. "It’s full to the brim... it feels like it’s going to overflow."

Victor, breathless, tried to pull back, an instinctive movement of retreat, but Serafall’s hips pushed him back, preventing him. Her hand gripped his forearm with surprising force.

"Don’t take it out," she ordered, her whisper a mixture of pleading and command. "Leave it in. I love feeling the size... the shape... how you fill me completely. Stay."

Victor let out a deep sigh, a mixture of exhaustion and resignation to her will.

He nodded, almost imperceptibly, and relaxed his body, allowing his still incredibly hard and throbbing penis to remain buried inside her.

It was an intimacy even deeper than the act itself, a continuous and silent possession.

His gaze, however, wandered to the bed beside them. To Natasha. "The crazy woman," as he had called her. She stood motionless, her dark eyelashes resting on her pale cheeks, her lips parted in a serene expression that seemed a cruel mockery of the scene she had unconsciously witnessed.

"What are we going to do about her?" Victor’s question came out in a low tone, but laden with genuine concern that contrasted with the lust of the moment.

Serafall let out a low moan, almost a purr, as she gently contracted her internal muscles around him, savoring the sensation.

"Let’s watch..." she murmured, her own eyes fixed on her sister’s sleeping profile. "She’s healed... physically. But those outbursts of hers... that blind devotion, that hunger that goes beyond blood... worries me."

"Ah~" She interrupted the sentence with another moan, sharper, when Victor, perhaps involuntarily, gave a small, subtle movement inside her. "M-move a little... there’s almost something going into my uterus..."

The provocation was deliberate, a test.

Victor responded with a single, deep, slow thrust, a movement that made Serafall’s eyes close in pleasure.

"Uhgg," he groaned, the muffled sound against her neck.

"That~ Anh~" she encouraged, her voice a thread of ecstasy. But worry resurfaced, mingled with pleasure.

"Are you sure she’s really asleep?" He whispered. "I’m not really keen on having this crazy woman calling me ’master’ in the middle of the night, or worse, wanting to join the feast."

"She’s breathing regularly," she observed, her voice restrained. "But you’re right. This... ’devotion’ of hers after the incident isn’t normal. It’s like the blood she drank... reprogrammed her. Like Charlotte said... we need to observe..."

Serafall relaxed her inner tightness. Victor understood the signal and slowly withdrew, the damp sound echoing in the quiet room. She turned her back, opening her legs uninhibitedly and looking directly at him, who settled himself on the bed.

"You won’t get pregnant if I keep ejaculating inside and you insist on pushing it all the way in as deep as possible?" Victor asked, his tone neutral, more out of curiosity than concern.

"The chances are like one in a million," Serafall replied bluntly. As she spoke, she parted her lips with her fingers, showing the semen already beginning to leak out. Without ceremony, she ran her fingers along the entrance, collecting some, and brought them to her mouth, cleaning them with her tongue.

"Why do you think we use artificial insemination? Vampires of strong bloodlines take forever to procreate. I only had you after my six thousand years." She shrugged, as if she were talking about time. "Then you can fill it up as much as you like. My uterus practically ignores it. It’s a barren desert most of the time."

Victor watched her movements, his eyes darkening with desire again. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"Good to know," he murmured, his voice hoarser than before. Her palm slid down her thigh, the fabric of her pants a rough obstacle against her hypersensitive skin. Every nerve seemed to signal the return of arousal, a dense, familiar heat building up again. "Then there’s really no excuse to stop."

"None," Serafall confirmed, her voice a low promise. With a deliberate, slow movement, she spread her legs a little wider, inviting his gaze, defining the space as her territory. A heavy silence hung in the room, broken only by Natasha’s deep, even breathing as she slept.

Then, a wicked smile curved Serafall’s lips. "Huh... I have a... a very naughty urge~" She whispered, her voice so silky it seemed to physically touch Victor’s skin.

He arched an eyebrow, a silent challenge, a plea for clarification. Without breaking eye contact, Serafall moved. It wasn’t a sudden movement, but a serpent uncoiling. She rose with feline grace and took the few steps to the side of the bed where Natasha slept, sound asleep and motionless, "like a stone."

Standing, looking down at her sleeping friend, Serafall glanced back at Victor.

"She won’t wake up," she declared, not as a hope, but as an absolute fact, an added ingredient to her mischief.

Then, she positioned herself. On all fours, she climbed over Natasha’s relaxed body, her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of the sleeping girl’s hips.

The movement made her heavy, free breasts sway dangerously before, with a soft, silent impact, falling onto Natasha’s face.

Soft skin rested against the sleeper’s cheek and slightly open mouth, a forbidden and visceral contrast between innocent sleep and deliberate provocation.

From her dominant position, nestled over her unconscious friend, Serafall held Victor captive with her dark eyes.

A thread of silvery saliva could be seen connecting her lower lip to Natasha’s skin for an instant before breaking.

She moved her hips in a small, suggestive circle against Natasha’s back.

"Come here," she breathed, the order now a whisper laden with urgency. "Come..."