Free Web NovelChapter 116: Spending time with wives (R-18)
The room was silent that night.
Too silent.
The dim lighting from the red lamps gave the whole room that strange atmosphere typical of aristocratic vampire territory. The enormous sofa where Victor sat practically sank into his body as he watched two extremely troublesome creatures completely occupying his lap.
Carmilla was sitting on one of his legs with her arms around his neck, while Scarlett brazenly occupied the other half, clinging to his chest like someone guarding territory.
The two had been fighting for almost twenty minutes.
Not really fighting.
Worse.
Competing.
Victor held Carmilla’s face as he kissed her slowly, immediately hearing Scarlett grumble irritably beside him.
"That was longer."
Victor still held Carmilla by the waist when he glanced at Scarlett.
"...You counted?"
"Of course I counted." Scarlett responded shamelessly before grabbing his face by the cheeks and pulling him into another kiss immediately. "She had four more seconds."
Carmilla’s eyes widened.
"FOUR SECONDS DON’T MAKE A DIFFERENCE!"
"IT DOES!"
Victor listened in absolute silence.
Then Scarlett ended the kiss, grabbing the collar of his shirt while looking at Carmilla with absurd superiority.
"See? Mine was better."
"Your kiss looks like a starvation attack."
"And yours looks like an aristocratic tax."
"At least I know how to kiss without trying to devour his tongue like a wild animal."
Scarlett was immediately offended.
"HE LIKES IT!"
Victor sighed slowly while massaging his forehead.
The two immediately looked at him at the same time.
"...You’re both aggressive today."
The comment made them both freeze for a few seconds. Then—
The aggression simply vanished.
Scarlett was the first to look away, pouting while still clinging to him.
"...It’s been a while."
Victor raised an eyebrow.
"A while?"
Carmilla let out a small, tired sigh before resting her face against his shoulder.
"You don’t touch us properly anymore."
The room fell silent for a few seconds.
Victor looked at the two of them.
Their expressions had truly changed now. It no longer seemed like just silly competition or exaggerated neediness.
They seemed... genuinely hurt.
Scarlett hugged his arm tighter as she spoke more softly this time.
"You were training all the time... then there were all those dangerous vampires nearby... then that mad scientist... then the trip..."
"Then that horny elf," Carmilla added immediately with deep disgust.
"She kept squeezing his chest."
"She measured his internal muscles."
"SHE DIDN’T NEED TO DO THAT."
Victor listened in absolute silence.
Then he slowly looked at Carmilla.
"...Internal muscles?"
Carmilla narrowed her eyes.
"I don’t want to talk about it."
Scarlett immediately became irritated again.
"SHE PUT HER HAND DOWN YOUR PANTS!"
"PROFESSIONALLY!" Carmilla retorted.
"THAT DOESN’T EXIST!"
Victor simply sighed deeply as he felt the two of them start arguing over him again.
But this time... he understood.
They were both truly needy.
Vampires naturally created absurd emotional dependence through blood ties. And in the case of those two, who practically lived glued to him from the beginning... going days without physical attention was clearly affecting him.
Scarlett was still grumbling irritably when Victor suddenly cupped her face in his hands.
She stopped immediately.
Victor pulled her close and kissed her slowly.
Scarlett froze for a full two seconds before practically melting against him. frёeωebɳovel.com
Carmilla watched, completely indignant. freewebnøvel.coɱ
"That was favoritism."
Victor grabbed Carmilla by the waist, then pulled her close as well.
"Then stop complaining."
She tried to maintain aristocratic dignity.
Tried.
Failed completely the instant he kissed her too.
Carmilla let out a small, muffled sigh against his lips while gripping his clothes tightly.
Scarlett immediately became irritated again.
"It was longer again!"
"Because I’m superior."
"OLD WOMAN."
"BRAT."
Victor slowly began to realize that perhaps he was creating two emotionally unstable creatures.
The worst part?
Perhaps it was already too late.
Scarlett practically lay on his chest, hugging him around the waist.
"...We missed each other."
Her voice was lower this time.
More honest.
Carmilla also remained silent for a few seconds before discreetly agreeing.
"You were distant."
Victor observed the two of them.
Then he let out a small, tired sigh as he rested his head on the sofa.
"...I was busy trying not to die."
"Even so," Scarlett murmured immediately.
"Even so," Carmilla agreed soon after.
The two spoke almost simultaneously.
Victor stared at the ceiling for a few seconds.
Then he simply pulled them both closer.
Victor observed the silence that finally settled between them—a heavy silence, laden with a need that wasn’t just physical, but visceral. He felt their bodies relax against him, the competitive rigidity dissipating into something more vulnerable, more real.
His hands began to move.
First over Carmilla. His palm traced the curve of her waist, firm and possessive, until it reached the side of her hip. He felt the thin fabric of her dress beneath his fingers, then the firm outline of the flesh below. His hand tightened slowly, a grip that wasn’t just affection, but a reaffirmation of dominance, of ownership. Carmilla let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, and her body leaned forward to give more.
He then turned his attention to Scarlett. His other hand moved up her ribcage, past the curve of her breast before settling on the mass itself. He wasn’t gentle. His hand molded itself over hers, feeling the weight, the fullness through the equally thin dress. Scarlett held her breath, her eyes closing, and she pressed her body deeper against Victor’s palm, seeking the pressure, the affirmation.
The rhythm was deliberate. Dominant. He alternated between them—one hand massaging Carmilla’s buttock with a pressure that made her muscles contract and relax, while the other explored Scarlett’s breast, fingers finding the most sensitive spot, making her let out a small, muffled moan.
"You... you’re being unfair again," Carmilla murmured, but her voice was weak, lacking the force of her earlier complaint.
"Because I am superior," Victor repeated his earlier words, but in a completely different tone—low, a warm affirmation.
He then moved his hands lower.
On Scarlett, his palm descended over the curve of her belly, over the fabric that covered her center. He didn’t hesitate. His hand settled on her, pressing, feeling the shape, the heat already rising through the various layers. Scarlett trembled, her fingers gripping Victor’s clothing tighter.
On Carmilla, his touch was equally direct. His hand found the junction of her legs, pressing with the same possessiveness. Carmilla let her head fall against his shoulder, her body arching subtly to receive the pressure.
Victor continued, his hands working on them with an intimacy that was both comforting and claiming. He wasn’t just satisfying her need; he was reinforcing the bond, reaffirming his place. Each squeeze, each pressure was a message: I am here. You are mine.
The room was now truly silent, but not an uncomfortable silence. It was a silence saturated with warmth, with synchronized breathing, with small movements of acceptance.
Scarlett finally spoke, her voice a hoarse breath against her chest. "...Don’t stop."
Carmilla said nothing. She simply raised one of her hands and placed it over the one Victor was using on Scarlett, guiding him, asking for more.
Victor didn’t stop.
Victor’s hands didn’t stop. They moved with an implacable certainty, a silent authority that neither of them thought to question. The touch was now more direct, more intimate.
For Scarlett, his hand moved under her dress, finding the inside of her thighs. He felt the tremor that ran through her body as his fingers slid across the already present, moist heat through the silk of her panties. With a firm movement, he pushed the fabric aside. She was completely exposed to him. He began to rub, not gently, but with firm, circular pressure on her clitoris. Scarlett groaned loudly, her body arching violently, her nails digging into his arm. "V-Victor..."
For Carmilla, the rhythm was different. He slid his hand inside the hem of her dress, his cold touch contrasting with the warmth of her skin. He found her center with the same ease, her entrance already wet and warm. He wasn’t slow. His fingers entered her with a firm, deep movement, and he felt her internal muscles tighten around him. Carmilla let out a hoarse, muffled sigh, her body contracting, her breathing quickening. She turned her face against his neck, her teeth lightly grazing his skin in a purely vampiric instinct.
He masturbated them both simultaneously, one hand dedicated to each. For Scarlett, the focus was external, a direct and incessant attack on her most sensitive point. For Carmilla, it was an internal, penetrating movement, filling her in a way that went beyond the physical.
The room filled with sounds: Scarlett’s panting breath, Carmilla’s muffled moans, the wet, obscene sound of their hands moving. The competition had completely vanished, replaced by a shared need, a joint surrender.
Scarlett was the first to break. Her body stiffened, a strangled moan escaped her throat, and she contracted violently against his hand, her moisture trickling down his fingers. She trembled for long seconds, lost in the wave of sensations.
Carmilla, sensing Scarlett’s convulsion, seemed to want to resist, to maintain her composure for a few more moments. But Victor intensified the rhythm of his fingers inside her, curving them to find the point that would make her collapse. She finally yielded with a muffled cry, her body arching back, her hips moving to meet his fingers as the wave of pleasure consumed her.
Victor continued until the last spasms had left them, until their bodies were limp and heavy against him, their breath still panting. He slowly withdrew his hands.
The silence that followed was different. Peaceful. Satisfied.
Scarlett was practically unconscious, lying on his chest, her face buried in his neck. Carmilla was still trembling slightly, her head resting on his shoulder, her eyes closed.
Victor said nothing. He simply held them closer, his hands now resting on their backs, gently caressing them. The longing had been satisfied, at least for now. The bond, strengthened.
He looked at the ceiling, feeling their weight and warmth on him. Two emotionally unstable vampires, completely dependent and possessed.
And he didn’t care in the slightest.
