I Belong To My Three Forbidden Masters

Chapter 92: Chapter 92

Lysander’s pov

I expected the club to be as dark as the name but the building in front of me was thick and majestic. It was a building carved out of a magazine.

Drake opened the car door and I stepped out, my hand on his arm.

"Ready?"

I breathed out heavily and nodded, "Ready."

The heavy iron doors swung open, releasing a wave of hot, bass-heavy air, sweet hookah smoke, and the scent of spilled spirits.

I wrinkled my nose immediately, it didn’t smell horrible but it wasn’t roses either.

The Vault was carved straight into the bedrock beneath the estate, a massive subterranean cavern lined with dark velvet drapes, glowing neon violet lights, and plush leather booths.

It was packed wall to wall. Everywhere I looked, tangled limbs writhed underneath the lights. In the alcoves along the perimeter, orgies played out in plain view, vampires in dark leather reclining on velvet couches while humans knelt before them, willingly presenting their wrists, throats, and thighs to be fed on and claimed.

Drake’s hand rested heavy and warm on the small of my back, his presence an invisible wall that parted the crowd as we walked toward the VIP mezzanine.

The sensory overload made my head spin, but the low, continuous pulse of Drake’s bond in my chest kept me anchored.

"Lysander."

A smooth, melodious voice cut through the thumping bass. Vesper stepped out from behind a silk curtain, dressed to the nines in a suit.

His red eyes gleamed with amusement as he looked from Drake’s possessive grip on my waist down to the dark leather collar resting snug against my collarbone.

"Congratulations on the ceremony," he offered me a slow, feline smile. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping into a light, provocative lilt. "Though I have to ask... are you truly certain you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, little hybrid? Lord Balthazar isn’t known for mild tempers."

Before I could answer, Drake’s grip on my waist tightened, his body shifting half a step forward to block her view of me.

"Lay off, Vesper," Drake growled, "He isn’t here for your games tonight."

Vesper raised his hands in mock surrender, his smile widening. "Just being friendly, Drake."

Suddenly, the heavy bass of the music shifted, dropping into a slow, grinding rhythm. The neon lights dimmed, leaving only a harsh red spotlight focused on the raised steel platform at the center of the main floor.

The crowd surged forward, cheered on by low whistles and eager murmurs.

A tall female vampire stepped into the spotlight. She wore a harness of black patent leather and silver chains, a heavy leather crop held loosely in her right hand.

Following a step behind her on all fours was a heavily muscled human male, wearing nothing but a matching steel collar connected to a silver leash in her left grip.

"Ah, the main event," Vesper murmured, leaning against the velvet railing. "Exhibitionism at its finest."

The female vampire yanked the chain, pulling the man up onto his knees. She didn’t use soft touches; she grabbed him by his dark hair, pulling his head back to expose the thick vein in his neck.

The crowd roared as she sank her fangs deep into his throat, drinking greedily while her free hand stroked down his chest, tracing the heavy muscles of his abdomen before sliding lower.

The human let out a loud, breathless groan of pure ecstasy, his back arching as he pushed his hips upward into her hand. She pulled her mouth from his neck, leaving two dark, bleeding puncture marks, and mounted him right there in the center of the stage.

The display was raw, shameless, and completely hypnotic. The heavy, rhythmic slap of skin against skin echoed through the speakers, mixed with the man’s uninhibited cries as she rode him with a relentless, dominating pace, forcing his body to submit entirely to her rhythm before the watching eyes of the entire club.

A hot, prickling wave of heat rushed straight to my face. I couldn’t look away, my mouth going dry as my pulse spiked.

Drake leaned down, his cool breath brushing against the shell of my ear, sending a sharp shiver straight down my spine.

"Tell me, little bird..." he whispered darkly, "...does watching them make you want to be pinned down right here on this balcony? Should I strip you down in front of all of them and let them watch how wet you get for me?"

My face burned bright red. I squeezed my eyes shut, my thighs rubbing together instinctively as a sudden, heavy ache bloomed in my lower stomach.

"I... I don’t know, Drake," I rasped out, my hands clutching the front of his black shirt.

"I haven’t recovered from yesterday."

Drake chuckled low in his throat, his thumb tracing the sensitive skin behind my ear. "You’d do it," he purred, his teeth grazing my jawline. "You’d stay completely still for me while three hundred predators watched me take what’s mine—"

"Hmmm," I moaned, baring my neck.

"I will make you feel so good. I will fuck you till you beg me to stop, pounding into you non stop till your legs are trembling and you are squirting like you always do."

"I...I..." the words got stuck in my throat as my cock got harder.

"As tempting as this reunion is," Vesper interrupted, stepping back into our space with a crisp parchment ledger in his hand, "the Enforcers from the other covens are waiting in the private room. They won’t hold their tongues for long."

Drake let out a slow, irritated breath, straightening his posture. He turned to me, his dark eyes softening as he looked down into my flushed face.

"I have to handle this business," he said softly, his thumb wiping a stray bead of sweat from my temple. "Stay here near the bar. Nobody will touch you. The entire room knows who you belong to after last night."

"Okay," I managed to say, forcing a small nod. "I’ll wait."

He leaned down and pressed a deep, possessive kiss against my swelling lips, his tongue sliding past my teeth just long enough to taste the heat on my breath.

He pulled back slowly, giving my hip a firm squeeze before turning toward the back hallway. Vesper followed close behind, the silk curtain falling shut after them.

I walked over to the long slate bar at the edge of the mezzanine, sitting on a high leather stool. The bartender, a tall, silent vampire with silver hair, looked at me expectantly.

I opened my mouth to order water, but my throat was so dry from the heat that no sound came out. Embarrassed, I simply shook my head, waving him off.

I wrapped my arms around my waist, trying to steady my breathing, but looking around the room made it impossible.

The heat in the cavern was suffocating. Below the mezzanine, dozens of bodies were locked together, vampires feeding, humans squirming under hands and lips, the air thick with the metallic scent of fresh blood and raw arousal.

The vivid image of Drake’s dirty promises echoed loudly in my head, mixing with the memory of how he had filled me in the shower just an hour ago.

My skin felt tight, hyper-sensitive. I shifted on the stool, crossing my legs and rubbing my thighs together tightly to ease the throbbing ache between my hips.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I twisted my head around frantically, scanning the dark VIP booths, searching the crowd for Drake’s tall frame, desperately needing the cold, grounding weight of his hand back on my neck.

He wasn’t there.

I gripped the edge of the slate bar, my knuckles turning white as another low wave of heat rolled through my stomach.

"Looking for someone?"

The voice drawled out from the dark shadow right beside my stool.

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