Chapter 810: No Longer A Sixty Year Old Virgin
Cassius lay sprawled across his ridiculously oversized bed, a sea of silken sheets and plush pillows stretching out around him.
He turned to his left, expecting to find a warm body, perhaps Aisha curled into a ball like a kitten, or Skadi spread out like a starfish taking up far more space than her frame should allow.
Instead, his arm met only empty sheets and a cold, silk-covered mattress.
He turned right, anticipating Julie’s familiar weight, or maybe Maria’s protective arm draped over his chest even in sleep.
Again, nothing but a fluffy pillow that smelled faintly of lavender—Portia’s doing, no doubt.
She insisted on scenting everything with calming aromatics.
A slow smile touched Cassius’s lips.
It was strange, this emptiness. Normally, his bed was a battlefield of limbs and blankets,
Some nights he’d wake with a foot in his face, an elbow in his ribs, or a particularly enthusiastic tail wrapped around his leg.
Tonight, however, everyone was scattered across the mansion, collapsed into the nearest available surface after the festival’s exhausting delights.
Cassius wasn’t disappointed, though. After the marathon of debauchery he’d engaged in at the festival—pumping load after load into Aisha, Diana, and countless others some peace and quiet was actually nice.
His body was pleasantly tired, his mind content, and having a bed all to himself felt like a luxury.
He was just about to drift off to sleep when he heard it.
The soft creak of the door opening. The quiet click as it closed again.
Cassius kept his eyes shut, but his smile widened.
’Seems someone really wants to go for another round.’
He thought, amusement coloring his mental voice.
’Can’t keep themselves alone for a single night.’
He wondered who it was. Every single woman in the mansion was just as insatiable as him now, their bodies craving his touch, his warmth, his cock.
They’d all been thoroughly broken in by his relentless attention.
The first suspect that came to mind was Isabelle.
Despite her prim and proper maid image, she was an absolute succubus at night, more so than Maria or Joy, who had actual succubus forms.
Isabelle was also the only one who could keep up with Cassius, even if only for a little while. And when it came to persistence, she was the most stubborn of them all.
If anyone couldn’t hold themselves back for a single night, it was her.
Cassius prepared himself, ready to give her what she needed.
But as the figure approached his bed and stood beside him, he immediately knew it wasn’t Isabelle.
The scent was wrong.
Isabelle always smelled like baked goods—warm bread, sweet pastries, the comforting aroma of a kitchen.
But this scent was different.
One part was soft and sweet, like cocoa powder dusted over fresh cream. It made him want to take a bite out of whoever was standing there.
But the other part was sharp and dangerous—the tangy metallic scent of blood, mixed with the faint trace of battle-worn steel.
It was the smell of someone who had walked through fire and emerged with scars.
Cassius’s smile widened. He knew exactly who it was.
Carmela. Who else would smell like a dessert that could kill you?
He wasn’t surprised. Even though Carmela always acted like she didn’t want to do anything dirty with him, her actions told a different story.
The way she constantly came to drink his blood despite no longer needing it.
The way she always drank from beneath, her fangs sinking into his sensitive shaft rather than his neck.
The way she’d pretend to be reluctant before eagerly swallowing his seed.
She’d definitely come for another "meal."
So Cassius kept his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, waiting to see what she would do.
He felt her slender fingers gently pull down the blanket, exposing his body to the cool night air. Then she tugged at his nightwear, pulling his pants down with surprising ease.
His cock sprang free immediately, already half-hard and ready for her. It stood tall like a flagpole, throbbing with anticipation.
Cassius expected the usual routine.
She’d hover over him for a moment, hesitating, before finally leaning down.
Her fangs would sink into his sensitive flesh, a sharp, biting pain that never quite got easier and then she’d start sucking.
First the blood, and then she’d take him fully into her mouth, her tongue working magic on his length as she claimed his seed for herself.
The pain was always worth it. The pleasure that followed was exquisite.
But something was different tonight.
Instead of feeling her soft tongue against his shaft, he felt something else.
Clothes rustling. The whisper of fabric being removed. And then...something wet and soft pressed against the very tip of his cock.
It was like someone was rubbing a piece of cotton soaked in warm oil against his sensitive head.
The sensation was strange, unfamiliar.
He wondered if Carmela had developed some new handjob technique, using the soft pad of her palm in some creative way.
But it felt too...fleshy. Too warm.
The strange rubbing continued, moving back and forth, up and down, covering his tip with something slick and viscous. Then it seemed to find the right position, settling over him like a perfect fit.
And then the weight began to descend.
Carmela slowly lowered herself, and a soft whimper escaped her lips.
"Hmmm—!"
It was a sound of intense pain, surprising for someone who bore scars all over her body from countless battles.
But Cassius could feel it—the way her body was struggling to accommodate him, the tight resistance as she pushed herself down.
He smiled to himself, assuming she’d simply skipped the blood-drinking and gone straight to deep-throating him.
That’s what it felt like: his cock sliding past her lips, into the hot, wet cavern of her mouth.
But then he frowned.
Something was wrong.
Normally, when Carmela took him into her mouth, she’d start using her tongue right away—awkwardly, clumsily, but enthusiastically.
It was endearing, watching the fearsome vampire struggle with something so intimate.
But now, there was no tongue. No awkward movements.
Just a tight, uniform pressure that seemed to surround him completely.
It was like his cock was being vacuum-sealed.
It was also tight!
So tight that he felt like he was being squeezed from all sides, the pressure almost overwhelming.
Not to mention, it was so warm, so wet, so impossibly sticky in a way that her mouth never was.
Worst of all, he could feel something pressing against the very tip of his cock.
A wall of sorts. Some kind of barrier that stopped him from going deeper.
’Impossible.’ He thought.
If she was deep-throating him, she’d be choking right now.
But there was no gagging, no struggling for air. Just that strange, soft barrier.
The realization hit him like a thunderbolt.
That’s not her mouth!
Cassius’s eyes snapped open.
The sight before him made his brain short-circuit.
Carmela wasn’t crouched over him with his cock in her mouth. She had removed her pants completely and was straddling him, her thighs spread wide, her body hovering over his.
And there, right where his cock should have been entering her mouth, was something else entirely.
His cock was buried deep inside her pussy!
Her lips were spread wide around his shaft, swollen and pink, glistening with her arousal.
His thick length was completely buried inside her, all the way to the hilt. And trailing down her thighs, mixing with her juices, was a thin line of blood.
Blood.
Carmela had just lost her virginity!
Cassius stared in utter shock. He’d never expected this.
He’d thought she’d come for blood, maybe some oral play.
But she’d taken the final step—right here, in the middle of the night, without warning or discussion.
And looking at her face, he could see how much it had cost her.
She was trembling, her eyes squeezed shut, her teeth gritted against the pain.
Her body was shaking like a leaf in a storm, and he could feel her inner walls clenching around him in spasms of overwhelming sensation.
He wanted to say something. To comfort her. To ask what the hell was going on.
"Carmela, what are you—"
But before he could finish, she pressed her fingers against his lips, silencing him.
Her eyes opened, and despite the pain evident in them, she forced a trembling smile onto her face.
"Just be quiet, Cassius." She whispered, her voice barely audible. "Don’t say anything. Let me handle this on my own."
Cassius wanted to protest. Something was wrong. The look in her eyes was too intense, too desperate.
There was overwhelming love there, yes, but also a deep, aching sadness. It was the look of someone who was doing something for the last time.
But when he tried to move, to sit up and demand answers, his body refused to cooperate.
His arms felt like lead. His legs were useless.
Even his head felt heavy, his thoughts sluggish and muddled.
’What’s happening to me?’
Carmela took advantage of his weakness.
Slowly, with obvious strain, she raised her hips.
His cock slid out of her, inch by agonizing inch. Her inner muscles clung to him, reluctant to let go, making the withdrawal a slow, wet, almost obscene process.
Her love juices—copious, uncontrollable dripped down his length, onto his stomach, warm and slick.
She reached the tip, paused, breathing heavily...
And slammed back down.
A whimper tore from her throat.
"Oh, Cassius...Cassius..."
She was struggling. Really struggling. This wasn’t the practiced motion of someone experienced. This was raw, awkward, painful determination.
Again, Cassius tried to move, to help, to take some of the burden.
But his body refused to obey. He felt...paralyzed. Not completely—he could twitch fingers, turn his head slightly—but the weakness was profound.
And Carmela seemed to revel in it.
She began to move faster, her hips undulating against him.
"Smack!♡~ Smack!♡~ Smack!♡~ Mmmm!♡~"
Each downward thrust drove his cock deeper inside her, until she was taking him all the way to the hilt.
His tip pressed against her cervix, and she whimpered with each impact, tears streaming down her cheeks.
But despite the pain, she kept going.
"Smack!♡~ Aaaah!♡~ Ughh!♡~ Nnn! Smack!♡~"
Riding him with frantic desperation, as if she was trying to consume every last moment of pleasure before time ran out.
"Cassius...Cassius..." She whispered his name like a prayer. "I love it. I love it so much! If I knew it was this good, I would have fucked you already!"
"I wouldn’t have waited until the very last moment!"
The words sent a chill down Cassius’s spine.
The very last moment? What did that mean? Why was she speaking like this was goodbye?
But before he could ask, Carmela increased her pace again.
"Smash!♡~ Slap!♡~Slap!♡~ Bang!♡~ Slap!♡~"
She was riding him like a woman possessed, her body moving in a frantic rhythm. He could feel her inner walls clenching around him, gripping his cock like a vice, every nerve ending screaming with pleasure.
And Cassius felt it building too.
That familiar pressure, coiling in his gut, spreading through his body. He was close, so close.
But there was no way he should be finishing this fast—he’d gone for hours just hours ago.
Something about this encounter was different, more intense, almost supernatural.
Maybe it was the sight of Carmela finally giving herself to him, her beautiful face contorted with pleasure and pain.
Maybe it was the vulnerability in her eyes, the way she seemed to be pouring her entire soul into this act.
Or maybe it was the strange helplessness he felt, the way she was utterly dominating him.
All he knew was that he couldn’t hold back.
Carmela seemed to sense it too. She leaned forward, putting more weight into each thrust, her movements becoming jerky, frantic.
"I’m coming, Cassius." She gasped, her voice breaking. "I’m coming...I’m coming..."
He felt it too—the building pressure, the tightening in his balls, the way his cock swelled even larger inside her.
"I’m coming too." He managed to grit out, the words slurred. "Fuck...Carmela!"
With one final slam, his cock pierced deep into her, hitting the very depths of her womb.
She screamed, a raw, primal sound that echoed through the room.
"FILL ME!" She cried out. "FILL ME WHOLE!"
Cassius’s cock exploded, releasing hot, thick ropes of semen deep inside her.
"Schlurp!♡~ Splish!♡~ Splat!♡~ Squish!♡~"
He felt her inner walls spasm around him, milking him dry, pulling every last drop from his pulsing shaft.
And then Carmela’s own orgasm hit.
"CASSIUS—!"
She screamed his name, her body convulsing, her inner walls clenching so hard that he felt like he was being squeezed dry.
"Gloop!♡~ Drip!♡~ Splurt!♡~ Plop!♡~"
A gush of fluid erupted from her, drenching his chest, soaking the sheets beneath them.
Cassius had never experienced anything like it.
It was one of the most intense orgasm of his life, even though he’d come dozens of times just hours before.
He was panting, gasping, his body trembling with the aftermath.
And through the haze of pleasure, he saw Carmela’s face.
She was radiant. Her skin glowed in the moonlight, covered in a sheen of sweat, her silver hair cascading around her shoulders like a waterfall of starlight.
She looked absolutely beautiful and utterly satisfied.
But then he saw her eyes again.
That same sadness was still there, lurking beneath the surface.
And now, mixed with it, was something new. Resignation.
’She knows something.’ Cassius realized. ’She’s planning something.’
Before he could voice his thoughts, Carmela lunged forward and captured his lips.
"Mmm!♡~ Mmm!♡~ Kiss!♡~ Mmm!♡~ Slurp!♡~"
The kiss was fierce, passionate, almost desperate.
Her tongue invaded his mouth, claiming him, tasting him. She held onto him like he was her lifeline, her anchor in a storm.
And Cassius tasted her desperation. Her love. Her fear.
’This is a goodbye kiss.’ He realized. ’She’s saying goodbye.’
