I Belong To My Three Forbidden Masters

Chapter 12: Chapter 12

Drake’s pov

Ripping off his pants from his body was undeniably easy. He screamed, his wide eyes getting wider and his jaw dropped to the ground from shock.

"P-Professor?" His frightened voice turned me on more than it probably should.

The version of me I had let him grow used to would have frozen the second I heard the terror in his voice. Unfortunately, I was too far gone to give a damn.

I was too damn high on his pheromones to care. He kept struggling and I let him knowing he was no match for me.

I raised his legs up high and in one fluid thrust, sank my swollen cock into his already leaking hole.

His breath hitched on a stunned gasp. His tongue lolled out, saliva and my cum dripping down to his already coated chin,

The look on his face was lewd, a picture of pure debauchery. He looked like a thoroughly debased slut getting wrecked and I was going to wreck him till every part of him was mine.

My eyes stung lightly at the sides, a sign that the hue was morphing into a darker shade of red. Fury was all I could feel. That, and the unending urge to take, take and take everything that was Lysander. I was going to possess every inch of him, I was going to mark him till his heart is inked with my name.

I dragged him off the sofa, still speared on my cock. His cries fell on deaf ears. Leading him to the tall full length windows that I always kept closed, I yanked the heavy blackout curtains aside.

Sunlight flooded the living room, bathing us in light.

I squinted, already mentally bracing for the familiar burn of the sun. It didn’t come. Instead the rays were warm and soothing on my skin, inviting

I couldn’t recall the last time I had faced the sun fully without flinching from the sting. Before my power had begun to degrade, the sun had been harmless.

Though I wasn’t part of the older Bloodline, I had been able to walk in the sun. I could feel that ability returning gradually to me, since I had met Lysander.

It seemed Nathaniel had been right, after all. He had prophesied I would need to meet my mate to regain my strength.

"If you fail to find your mate, your power will inevitably continue to degrade." Nathaniel had said. "By then, being burned by the sun would be the least of your worries."

"Fine." I had bit out, disbelieving. "If your prophecy is real, how the hell am I supposed to find my mate after all these years?"

"His blood will act like a totem. It will guide you to him."

Truthfully, Lysander’s blood had guided me to him, alright.

I pressed him against the window. His protests died the second I kissed him. I ran my tongue over every crevice in his mouth, tasting him. His natural sweetness was mingled with the creamy taste of my cum.

Perfect.

Grabbing his waist tight, I thrusted hard into his body. Lysander cried out, more tears spilling onto his flushed cheeks. The distress on his face was addicting. Seeing him like that made me want to fuck him harder, so I did.

I pistoned my cock in and out of him, fucking him harder with every thrust. His body lurched against the glass from the force of each thrust, and he moaned on every thrust. His dick was hard, trapped between our bodies while I fucked him.

His cuffed hands hung around my neck for balance.

He sobbed, breathless pleas and moans leaving his wet lips, his face screwed up in agony.

"P-please... s-stop, d-don’t!" He groaned as I purposely angled my cock to hit his g-spot.

"Professor!" I chuckled at the disbelief in his tone.

I pinched his left nipple hard, and he cried out. His cock jerked pitifully between the both of us. I licked away the trail of tears on his cheeks, wanting more.

As the sole remaining vampire in my coven, I was the only pure blood remaining. I had been raised differently.

Since childhood, I had been brought up with the expectation of being the next ruler. I had been adored by all for my good looks, my upbringing and my intelligence. I’d had everything I could ever want and more.

Everything being mine was a norm I had grown used to. It was boring, a reality I had grown indifferent to.

Everything was already mine, why would I have to lift a finger?

But now... Now there was something I wanted, something I had coveted that someone else had tried to claim.

Not claim. No one could ever own anything I had considered to be mine. Lysander had merely just been fucked. Sullied by dirty hands that had dared to touch what was mine. It was an issue I would address in the future, but right now ... right now I would eradicate every single trace that little boy had left on my property.

He had left traces of himself all over Lysander. Fading bite marks, whip marks and finger shaped bruises. Worst of all, he had left his scent all over him, like a dog pissing on a fire hydrant.

Smelling the scent of a lowly human on what’s mine enraged me like no other.

I couldn’t fucking stand it. It was fucking with my control, the calm mask I had worn for Lysander’s sake shattering the longer it clinged to him.

My fangs physically itched, the urge to claim him with my bite roaring in my blood. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t. Biting him would mean turning him, and I wasn’t ready to do that.

It wasn’t time.

I chose to leave my own hickeys on his skin instead of drawing blood with my fangs. Over every bruise and hickey left by that little boy, I pressed lingering kisses, erasing all traces of him from Lysander’s body.

It was a long time before I was satisfied.

Laying him down on the ground, I rocked my cock in and out of his wet hole while I studied the expanse of his skin.

Lysander was a beautiful boy, his skin was flushed and his hair long and disheveled from me running my hands through it. His pink lips trembled and flushed compared to the rest of his body.

I splayed my fingers over his stomach, flicking his erect nipples. My palm smoothed over his belly, directly over where I was buried. There was a bulge protruding at his abdomen, where the head of my cock rested.

I smiled, pleased by the sight. " Look how perfect you look with my cock inside you." I pressed against the bulge and he whimpered. "How pretty."

"P-please..." his voice was broken, his eyes closed. "I-I don’t - ah!"

I snapped my hips forward in a particularly hard thrust, and his eyes flew open. He screamed.

"Good." I whispered darkly. "You’d better keep your eyes on me while I fuck you."

The fear in his eyes didn’t abate. I reached for his leaking cock, giving it a slow stroke. He sobbed, subconsciously arching into my grip. "N-no."

"No, what?" I smeared his slick over his weeping cockhead. "No, don’t stop? No, go slow?"

"P-please... ngh-stop."

"Stop?" I paused, my eyes stinging as rage blazed inside me. "You want me to stop? Did you tell that to that boy while he fucked you, or did you only beg him to continue?"

Lysander froze, going rigid. His throat bobbed in a nervous swallow, his watery doe eyes fixed on mine.

Shock was written clearly on his face. "W-w-what?"

Holding him down with inhuman, bruising force, the ancient vampire in me growls in his ear:

"You needy little liar. Tell me... who fucks you better? Him, or me?"

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