17 + Seduction +

The sting of infuriating a single woman might be fleeting, but earning the wrath of the High Priestess, one who had once adored him, proved devastating. Cursed for not fulfilling her desires, he was now shackled to the ever-present threat of the Blood Beast within him, a creature that threatened to turn him deadly if not periodically unleashed.

As the Vampire King lounged, one elbow nestled amongst the plush cushions, an observer might mistake him for a man without worries. However, beneath this serene facade, perfected over millennia, his vigilant eyes never ceased their restless dance. While gracing a dancer with a nonchalant smile, his gaze remained ever-watchful, measuring each potential threat. At the same time, he delighted his eclectic gathering of guests with an array of exotic delicacies.

The satisfaction of satiating the relentless Blood Beast surged through him, a feeling of returning to one's own skin after a prolonged absence. Liberated from the shackles of his bloodlust, he could once again interact without the looming shadow of death. To quell the monster within, he'd offered a cocktail of blood and tormented souls, just enough to sustain his existence in the Underworld. He fervently hoped it would suffice.

The room pulsed with life as alluring dancers moved in sync with the rhythmic drums. As he savored his wine, a cynical thought crossed his mind, 'In this realm, women are often seen as mere ephemeral delights, momentarily cherished and then discarded for the next fleeting attraction.'

Yet, amidst the sea of captivating sights, the ethereal white-haired beauty with shimmering silver eyes stood out, moving gracefully to the flute's lilting tune. Intrigued, he mused, 'Such a unique visage. Could she be a new acquisition to this court? Her aura is so enigmatic.'

Distractedly sipping from his goblet, he was spellbound by the rhythmic movement of her hips. Her skirt, delicately perched on the curve of her hips, seemed perpetually on the brink of cascading down. Each twirl offered a tantalizing glimpse of her pale leg, courtesy of the skirt's daring slit. Clothed in a jeweled bodice and vibrant skirts, the hue of which mirrored her captivating eyes, her attire was paradoxically modest amidst the scantily-clad dancers around her, heightening her allure. A delicate golden circlet graced her forehead, offset by her cascading silver tresses. A ruby pendant, in the shape of a teardrop, dangled enticingly from a golden chain, settled between her breasts. Her radiant skin seemed to glisten, as if many had sought to enhance its luster, rendering her all the more beguiling.

Entranced, he could almost feel his fingers caressing her silky skin, anointing her with aromatic oils. Yet, he was all too aware that mere physical pleasures, however intoxicating, weren't always enough to appease the Blood Beast. At times, he had to plunge into darker depths, draining malevolent souls to maintain equilibrium.

Trapped in an eternal struggle, two powerful entities vied for dominance within a singular immortal form. The weight of coexisting with the Blood Beast, continually negotiating its insatiable demands, had worn him down. He had lost touch with his essence, and as the centuries unfurled, a numbness had taken hold.

Resigned to his haunting existence, he no longer tried to mask the peril he embodied. The weight of endangering all in his vicinity crushed his soul more than the torment of his curse ever could. But a wry smile touched the Vampire King's lips, as if distancing himself from past guilt.

Though his regal demeanor hid it well, an underlying fear gripped him—fear of unwittingly harming his devoted subjects.

His ruminations were abruptly interrupted as the ethereal dancer inadvertently neared him. As if drawn by a magnet, his body thrummed with primal need. Stretching subtly, he tried to temper the electric tension skittering under his skin. Alas, his cursed nature was making its presence felt, dragging him into treacherous depths. He knew the ramifications all too well; if he didn't find an outlet for this building tension—especially after indulging his insatiable thirst—he was treading on thin ice.

In a swift motion, he whirled, pulling the dancer towards him. His hand instinctively went to her throat, pressing her gently yet firmly against his throne. The pulse beneath his fingers was frantic, testament to the lifeblood that ebbed and flowed within her. He drank in her intoxicating aroma as he leaned down, his frame overshadowing hers.

Her voice, wavering under his touch, whispered, "Your Highness—"

A shiver danced down his spine, her voice's mellifluous timbre soothing and captivating. He could not resist; he pressed himself against her more intimately. Her initial resistance was palpable, but he was lost in the sensation of her, from the delicate press of her breasts to her fragrance, reminiscent of blooming flowers and fresh fruit.

As she pushed, he countered, intensifying their closeness. Her protests became muffled sighs, and the scent of her growing arousal filled the air, fanning the flames of his own desire. A smug satisfaction coursed through him, acknowledging the instinctive pull she felt in return.

He tightened his hold, whispering a husky command, "Stay still." But her defiance flared. "Release me, Your Highness!" The scent of fear shifted to something sharper, more intense.

His slow, deliberate movements elicited soft moans, signaling her body's reluctant surrender. As the tension seeped from her, her hands reached out, touching the curve of his back, a touch hesitant yet longing. Her wide-eyed realization suggested she was momentarily entranced, caught in a vampire's spell.

Without letting her contemplate her response, he encouraged her to explore further. Her touch was intoxicating, unlike anything he had ever known. As her hands ventured higher, he couldn't contain his pleasure, a low growl escaping his lips. Lowering his head to whisper in her ear, he confessed, "I want you."