Night draped its velvet veil over the estate. The moonlight filtered gently through the sheer curtains of my bedroom, casting soft silver hues across the polished floors and silken sheets.
I lounged on the velvet sofa, cradling a goblet of blood wine in my hand, dressed in a translucent nightgown that clung softly to my form. The air was warm, fragrant with the lingering scent of roses and wine.
There was a knock at the door, light and hesitant.
"Come in," I said gently.
Liza and Emilia stepped inside, both cloaked in matching nightgowns—delicate, sheer, and sensual. Their eyes gleamed with anticipation, cheeks slightly flushed. They said nothing, but their smiles held all the words they didn't need to speak.
We moved to the bed together, the three of us sinking into its embrace as moonlight spilled across the covers.
I leaned in and kissed Emilia softly. She answered with a quiet breath, then returned the kiss with warmth, her lips melting into mine. We stayed like that for a moment, exploring each other tenderly, letting the silence speak through gentle touches.
Then I turned to Liza, brushing her hair behind her ear before kissing her just as softly. She responded eagerly, her lips parting with longing, her hands resting on my waist.
One by one, the nightgowns slipped away like whispers of silk, forgotten amidst the hush of breath and heartbeat. We admired one another's forms—not with lustful hunger, but with reverence and affection. Every curve, every breath, every soft laugh felt sacred.
Our touches were gentle. Curious. Intimate. We explored one another with the care of artists admiring their masterpiece, allowing affection to guide our movements. There were sighs, soft moans, and whispered names. Fingers laced. Bodies pressed together, warm and trusting.
My ps glide against Emilia's. Then Emelia's ps glide against Liza's. Then Liza's ps glide against mine.
The three of us became one—our breaths syncing, our limbs tangled in soft sheets and even softer emotion. We shared kisses—first on lips, then on shoulders, foreheads, hands. We whispered to each other things we wouldn't say in the light of day. Confessions of longing. Promises of loyalty. Wishes for happiness.
We held each other close—flesh to flesh, heart to heart.
In the quiet after, we lay together, tangled in silken sheets, bare and beautiful. I stroked their hair gently, watching their peaceful expressions as sleep began to claim them. Liza rested her head on my right shoulder, while Emilia curled up against my left, her hand resting gently over my heart.
I kissed their foreheads, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with blood or magic.
"I'm glad you're mine," I whispered, more to the stars than to them.
Together, we drifted into slumber—three hearts bound not just by fate or transformation, but by something far deeper.
Love. Trust.
And the promise of forever.