The Moonlight Dripping Red

"Some monsters invite you to run. The worst ones make you walk toward them, smiling."

🩸🌹🩸

The club was a cathedral of shadows, lit in red and gold, where music bled through the walls like a heartbeat out of sync. Amalia stepped into the haze, her heels slicing the bassline, her breath steady even as her chest rebelled with heat. She had returned not as prey, not as a girl waiting to be seen, but as something else. Something she hadn't named yet, but could feel settling in her bones like steel.

Liliana was exactly where Amalia expected her to be: the far corner of the bar's VIP section, shrouded in velvet and half-darkness, the queen of her own decay. Her blonde hair fell in lazy waves around her shoulders, her eyes closed, mouth parted in a kiss too languid to be innocent. A woman was pressed to her lips, drinking from her like she was made of sin. A man knelt beside them, his face buried in the curve of Liliana's neck, lips brushing skin like he was praying with his mouth.

The sight struck something deep and buried, but Amalia didn't flinch. She didn't look away, didn't let the jealousy rise and bloom. It was there, of course. it always would be but she refused to be devoured by it. Tonight, she would not be the girl left trembling outside the temple.

She walked through the crowd as if pulled by gravity, her steps unhurried, her gaze unshaken. People parted for her without knowing why, sensing the charge that had replaced her softness. No perfume clung to her, no invitation in her scent. She was not bait. She was a blade.

When she reached the table, the vampire's eyes opened. Blue, colder than glass, locked onto hers. She didn't drop her gaze.

🌹"Leave."

She said to the humans wrapped around the silk-mouthed killer like ornaments, her voice low but certain

The woman blinked confused and the man hesitated, as if waking from a dream.

🌹 "I said leave."

The immortal said nothing. She simply tilted her head slightly, and the two humans rose without protest, like puppets released from invisible strings. They disappeared into the dark, their absence leaving a silence weighted and electric.

She studied Amalia, lashes casting faint shadows over those glacial eyes. She didn't speak immediately. She reached for her glass, lifted it with languid fingers, and took a single sip. The drink was red. Of course it was.

🩸"You interrupted."

She said at last, her voice like silk pulled over a knife.

🩸"How bold."

🌹"If that was feeding, you're starving."

A flicker passed over the vampire's face, amusement, maybe, or something quieter. Then her expression settled back into its usual mask of arrogance, the smile that wasn't a smile, just the shape of one carved from ice.

🩸"And now you speak in riddles. Should I applaud your evolution?"

🌹 "I'm not here to impress you."

And it was true. Her voice didn't waver, not even under the weight of Liliana's gaze.

🌹"I'm not here to cry, or beg, or wait to be noticed."

🩸"Then why come?"

She asked, one brow lifting.

🩸"Did you miss the taste of being undone?"

Amalia stepped closer, resting her palms on the table between them. The wood was cool under her hands. Her lipstick had not smudged. Her spine did not bend.

🌹"I came to see if you still think you can break me."

Liliana leaned back slowly, crossing one leg over the other, an elegant motion designed to draw attention. But the Amalia didn't look at her body. She kept her focus sharp, eyes locked to eyes.

🩸"I remember you trembling."

She murmured.

🩸"Your breath catching when I got too close. Your hands shaking. You wore your want like perfume."

🌹"I remember. I also remember thinking it was mine."

The vampire tilted her head, slightly intrigued.

🌹 "But it wasn't. It was you. Your biology. Your tactics. The way you poisoned my senses and called it affection. The eyes. The voice. The scent. I know what it was now. I know what you are."

🩸"And yet you came back."

She set her glass down gently.

🌹 "I'm still curious. Still drawn. But I'm not yours. I'm not under. I'm not blind."

Liliana's lips curved again, but her eyes had sharpened. Something inside her was watching more carefully now, calculating in a new way.

🩸 "You speak of science like it can unmake desire."

She said.

🩸"But knowledge doesn't kill the hunger. You still feel it, don't you? The heat. The ache."

🌹"I do. But I won't let it own me."

🩸"Fascinating."

She said, almost gently.

🩸"You think you've claimed yourself just because you can name the leash."

🌹"I know I haven't cut the leash. Not yet. But I'm not dragging it behind me like a chain anymore."

The undead studied her for a long moment, and in that silence, something shifted. Not in the room, but in the air between them. A new current. A new tension.

🩸"You're not kneeling tonight."

🌹 "No."

Liliana exhaled once, a slow soundless breath. Then she looked up, chin tilted just so, voice rich and cool.

🩸"Then tell me, Amalia. If you're no longer my prey... what are you?"

The human girl smiled. Not sweetly. Not cruelly. Just a curve of her lips like the first cut of a blade drawn clean from its sheath.

🌹 "Something you don't get to name."

🌹🩸🥀🌑🌹🩸🥀

The mortal sat when Liliana told her to. She didn't argue. She didn't flinch. But her chest was rising fast, breath caught between defiance and desire.

The night's consort leaned forward, one elbow on the table, the other hand still hidden beneath it.

🩸 "If you've come for me, you're not just going to feel me, Amalia. I'll own you. I'll take you down to the bone."

Amalia's throat moved with the swallow she tried to hide.

🌹 "I know."

🩸 "No, you don't. You think you want me, but you've never had me the way I take people. I don't kiss gently. I don't make love. I fuck, I use, and I leave marks. You won't get the soft version of me."

🌹 "I don't want soft."

That earned a real smile. Not warmth. Amusement, maybe. Satisfaction.

🩸: "Then you'll take what I give you. And you won't look away."

The succubus' hand slid between Amalia's legs without another word. There's no hesitation. Just complete, cruel confidence. She pressed her fingers to the human's core, right through the panties, slow and deliberate.

Amalia's breath left her in a rush.

The club blurred around her. Vampires laughed and danced and drank. But beneath it all was the thrum of sex in the air.

She felt eyes. Not directly, never that obvious. But they knew. Vampires always knew. They could smell the heat between her thighs, hear the quickening of her pulse, taste the tension rolling off her in waves.

Liliana's fingers rubbed harder.

🩸 "You're soaked. Were you like this the moment you saw me?"

Amalia didn't answer. She couldn't.

🩸 "You thought you could walk in here and take back your power. But your body's still begging me."

Her voice was low, thick with hunger. One hand stayed perfectly still on the table, poised like nothing was happening. The other was pressed into Amalia's heat, moving in slow, relentless circles.

Then the fabric tore. A soft rip, and her panties were gone. Liliana tossed the ruined lace to the side like it didn't matter. And it didn't.

Bare fingers slid through slick folds.

The mortal girl gasped, sharp and high.

The lamia thumb found Amalia's clitoris, and her middle finger slid inside, lower, slow, knowing, wicked.

🩸 "Keep your eyes on me."

Amalia gripped the edge of the table like it might save her. Her thighs parted further, unthinking, desperate for more.

🩸"That's it. Let them hear you."

🌹"They know..."

🩸"They can smell you. Dripping, aching, undone. You think anyone here doesn't know what I'm doing to you right now?"

Her fingers moved faster now, sliding in deep, curling just right. Amalia's hips bucked, unable to hold still. Her eyes fluttered shut.

🩸 "No. Keep them open. I want you to look me in the eye when you come."

She obeyed. Barely.

The pleasure was brutal. It didn't build slowly. It spiked, wild, immediate, dangerous. There was no hiding it. The wet sound of Liliana's fingers plunging into her was obscene, amplified by vampire hearing. The scent of arousal curled like smoke through the room.

Amalia was the center of it. Exposed. Wet. Taken.

🌹: "Liliana.. "

🩸: "That's right. Say it."

🌹"You...fuck..."

🩸 "Louder."

She didn't speak. She cried out instead. A sharp, broken sound torn from her throat as the pale seducer's fingers thrust harder, faster. There was no mercy, no pause. Just the rhythm of raw, deliberate conquest.

The human girl came with a sob she couldn't swallow. Her body convulsed, thighs trembling, eyes wide open as her release crashed over her.

Every vampire in that club felt it: the sound, the smell, the wave of heat.

Liliana didn't stop right away. She milked the climax, slow and cruel, until Amalia had to bite her lip to keep from moaning again.

Then, and only then, she withdrew her fingers.

She licked them clean.

🩸 "I should bend you over this table and let them watch. Let them see exactly how wet you still are."

Amalia's legs were weak. Her body still buzzed with aftershocks. She straightened her skirt, breathing hard, flushed and trembling but refusing to bow her head.

🌹 "You don't scare me."

🩸 "No. But I make you come so hard, you forget how to lie."

She stood. Every muscle in her body was on fire. Her thighs were slick. Her heartbeat thundered. But her gaze held steady.

🌹 "I came here to find out who I am."

🩸 "And?"

🌹 "Maybe I'm the kind of girl who comes in public while predators listen."

Liliana laughed, low and dark.

🩸"Maybe you are."

Amalia turned and walked out of the booth. Not broken. Not ashamed. Just… burning. Lit from the inside by something she hadn't expected to crave.

Liliana watched her go. Licked her lips. And behind her, half the room still breathed in the scent of Amalia's surrender.

🩸"Mine."

But she didn't say it out loud.

Not yet.