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Then she looked at Sekhmet. "Now you, Master."

He positioned himself behind Vera, his blood stick nudging against her slick folds. She pushed back immediately, begging without words. He entered her in one smooth stroke —thick, full, deep. Vera cried out, her head lifting, her spine curving.

Sekhmet f*cked her with growing intensity, his hips slapping against her ass, the sound filling the chamber. Vela watched from the side, her hand between her own legs, stroking herself in time with his thrusts.

"Harder," Vera gasped. "Please... harder..."

Sekhmet gripped her hips and drove into her with punishing force. Each thrust made her body jolt forward; she had to brace herself on her forearms to stay upright. The carpet beneath her was wet with sweat and her own arousal.

Vela crawled closer. She leaned down and pressed her mouth to Vera’s. They kissed, tongues tangling, muffling Vera’s moans. Then Vela bit her sister’s lip hard enough to draw blood.

A single drop welled on Vera’s lower lip. Sekhmet saw it. He leaned over Vera’s back and licked it away, tasting the copper sweetness.

"More," he said, his voice rough.

Vela bit again. This time on Vera’s throat, just above the collarbone. Her fangs sank deep. Vera gasped but did not pull away. Instead she pressed into the bite, offering herself.

Sekhmet continued to thrust while Vela drank. The blood flowed warm down Vera’s chest. Sekhmet watched the dark red trickle between her breasts, and hunger rose in him. It was not the cold hunger of survival, but the hot hunger of desire.

He pulled out of Vera, flipping her onto her back without ceremony. She looked up at him, eyes glazed, blood still welling at her throat. He lowered his mouth to the wound and drank.

The taste of her hit his tongue. It was rich, vibrant, laced with the essence of her pleasure. He drank slowly, deeply, feeling the bond between them tighten, pulse, sing. Vera’s hands fisted in his hair, holding him to her throat, urging him on.

Above him, Vela moved. She straddled Vera’s face, lowering her pussycat to her sister’s mouth. Vera accepted her without hesitation, tongue immediately diving into Vela’s folds, lapping at the wetness there while Sekhmet continued to drink from her throat.

The triad of sensation overwhelmed them all. Vela rode her sister’s face, moaning above them. Sekhmet drank until he felt Vera’s pulse begin to slow, then licked the wound closed, sealing it with a kiss.

He raised his head. His lips were red. His fangs stained.

He looked at Vela. "Now you."

She slid off Vera’s face, her chin wet. She lay back on the carpet, drawing her knees up, opening herself to him. Her pussycat was swollen, glistening, her clit erect and begging.

Sekhmet crawled over her. He did not enter immediately. Instead he lowered his mouth to her thigh and bit.

Vela gasped — it was sharp, pained, then melting into pleasure. He drank from her thigh, the blood was hot and fast on his tongue. She tasted different from her sister, it was darker, spicier, like old wine and lightning.

While he drank, his hand found her cunt. Two fingers slid inside her, crooking upward, pressing against her front wall. She bucked into his palm, her breath coming in sobs.

"Inside me," she begged. "Please... I need your meat..."

He released her thigh. The wound started to seal. He rose over her, his blood stick slick from Vera’s cunt, and pushed into Vela in one slow, deliberate motion.

Her eyes rolled back. Her body accepted him like a sheath to a sword. It was perfect, tight, burning.

He f*cked her slow at first. Then faster. His rhythm built like a war drum, each thrust deeper than the last. Vela’s legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, her heels digging into his ass.

Vera rose behind Sekhmet. She pressed her chest to his back, her nipples scraping his skin. Her hand reached around his hip, finding her sister’s clit, rubbing it in circles timed to his thrusts.

"Come for him," Vera whispered to Vela. "Come for us."

Vela shattered. Her orgasm ripped through her, it was violent and loud. Her cunt clamped down on his blood stick, milking him, and the pressure sent him over the edge seconds later. He came inside her with a growl, his hips grinding against her, spilling deep, hot streams that filled her completely.

They stayed locked together, panting, sweating, hearts pounding in sync.

Then Vela’s hand reached out blindly. It found Vera’s. Their fingers intertwined.

Sekhmet lowered his head, pressing a kiss to Vela’s forehead, then turned and kissed Vera’s shoulder.

The chamber was quiet now except for their breathing. The lamps had burned low. The darkness pressed in around them, but it felt like a blanket, not a threat.

Vela spoke first, her voice hoarse. "I think... I forgot how to stand like a guard."

Vera laughed, weak and trembling. "Me too."

Sekhmet lay back, pulling them both against his chest. They curled into him, one on each side, their faces pressed to his skin. He could feel their heartbeats slowing, their bodies relaxing.

He stroked Vera’s hair. Then Vela’s.

"You did not forget," he said. "You chose not to remember. That is different."

Vela kissed his chest. "Is that what you call it?"

"Honesty."

Vera smiled against his ribs. "You and that word."

"It is the only one that matters tonight."

They lay in silence for a long moment. Then Vera shifted, raising her head to look at him.

"I want more of you," she said.

Sekhmet’s brow lifted. "You have had all of me."

"No. I want to taste your blood."

The request hung in the air. Vela’s eyes opened, watching her sister, then Sekhmet.

He did not hesitate. He brought his wrist to his mouth and bit down hard. Blood welled from the wound, it was dark red and thick, brighter red than human veins. He offered it to Vera.