The DNA in the bites from the first vics aren't going to match most of the vamps upstairs. To set him free. Wide shoulders, slender waist and hips, a swimmer's body, though that wasn't his sport. He pulled on my nipple so hard and so long, that I cried out, Enough, enough.
A need to have someone inside me. Okay, maybe I was. It was like being caught in an endless loop of pleasure; one body's release, bringing the other, until we ended in a sweating, bloody pile on the floor. Dracula wasn't really Dracula, but the news media didn't seem to understand that, and they'd enjoyed talking about how they had the real Dracula as their Master of the City.
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