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ch33z3grits · 22 days ago

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Crimson Obsessions | A Terry Richmond Vampire Series

pairing: Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond x Justine Skye as Camille DeWaterson

summary: The usually reserved and responsible Camille DeWaterson celebrates her sister's final moments as a free woman in the streets of New Orleans . After stumbling into a club that promised temptation and decadence, she’s drawn into the clutches of a true predator who wants more than a simple dance. Terry Richmond, a vampire with unimaginable power and connections, has used his club to draw in unsuspecting victims for decades. But when he gazes upon Camille DeWaterson, an obsession immediately begins. And he doesn’t want to just feed and fuck. He desires something much more sacred and permanent.

warnings: 18+, dark romance, obsessiveness/possessiveness, mentions of drugs (weed) and alcohol, intoxication, mentions of sexual acts, graphic violence, AAVE, light smut? (dry humping)

word count: 7,258

glossary:

Indulgences: human beings that vampires deem romantically and sexually desirable

The Veil: the dark magic that enhances supernaturals’ ability to manipulate the human world

Ambrosia: an aphrodisiac and euphoric substance that makes humans more open to the propositions of supernaturals

Camille's song: Drugs-UPSAHL | Terry's song: She-Tyler, The Creator

Pt. One

Camille

Camille DeWaterson was beginning to have doubts about letting loose for her sister’s bachelorette party. As she looked at the lacy outfit her sister demanded she wear, Camille inwardly groaned, thinking that nothing good would come from tonight. Just as Camille was about to step away from the full length mirror, her sister came behind her and looked at her through the mirror with big, drunken puppy dog eyes.

“Pleaseeee, CamCam,” Chloe DeWaterson slurred, snaking her arms around her sister’s waist. “Remember, you promised me.” Camille sighed. She did promise her sister that she would leave her responsible, goodie-two-shoes nature in Houston so she could fully enjoy the revelry of their seven days in New Orleans. For the first two days, she had been able to unwind during the spa trip, the wine tasting, and the afternoon tea. But as the girls’ night approached, her relaxed attitude began to fade.

As the eldest daughter of the DeWaterson family, Camille was raised with one clear expectation: perfection. Her father drilled into her the importance of a flawless social image, and to earn his approval, she shaped her life around his vision of what was best for her. As a top student at her prestigious boarding school in Virginia, Camille had secretly longed to attend the charter school back in her Georgia hometown. She enrolled at the University of Texas to be closer to the boy her father had chosen as her future husband, despite begging him for permission to attend Spelman. Camille dutifully attended social events alongside other women, all of them under pressure to climb the social ladder—though those gatherings often left her with little time for the friends who truly understood her. Since she could remember, Camille had been striving to uphold her Black American Princess image, a role she knew all too well but one that often left her feeling unfulfilled.

In contrast, her sister Chloe was constantly rebelling. She dropped out of Dartmouth to pursue fashion school in New York City, ran off to Los Angeles to live with her ex-boyfriend, and once stripped naked and leapt into a fountain at a charity event their mother had organized. Chloe embodied the essence of a free spirit, her laissez-faire attitude both something Camille admired and envied. Yet, despite her rebelliousness, Chloe still allowed their father to shape the most important aspects of her life—including her marriage. In an effort to refine her image, Colin DeWaterson Sr. orchestrated his daughter’s marriage to Simon Chazal, a longtime family friend. He argued it would offer Chloe the stability she needed, while also providing him the coveted connection to a wealthy Creole family—something he’d been angling for since moving the family to New Orleans when Camille was a sophomore in high school.

Although Chloe fussed for months about the arrangement, she eventually agreed once Simon voiced his true feelings for her. Chloe didn’t feel the same romantically, but she deeply cared for the man who was one of her closest childhood friends. She knew he would never hurt her, and he always supported her creative outlets. Besides, denying the union would put Chloe’s inheritance in jeopardy. And even though she was doing more than fine financially with her clothing line and YouTube channel, she had grown accustomed to a lifestyle that only a DeWaterson fortune could support.

So, she was getting married in two days to a man she didn’t love in the middle of her 20s. Although she had accepted her fate, she wasn’t going down without a fight. Chloe was determined to have a bachelorette party that she would never forget.

Full of decadence, empty of decorum.

And to make that happen, she made her good girl older sister promise to do everything she said. Which is why Camille was wearing a racy black catsuit that could double as a mosquito net.

“You look sooooo sexy, CamCam,” her sister continued, rubbing her cheek on Camille’s shoulder. Camille’s face grew hot as she stared at her reflection. She couldn’t deny that she looked like she had stepped out of a man’s fantasy. But how could she focus on the group’s wellbeing and make sure no one wandered off if she was constantly getting approached, which her outfit would no doubt cause. She looked around the room at the group of women who ranged in age from 24 to 27, carelessly pouring dark liquors down their throats and passing a perfectly rolled blunt between each other. As the 29 year-old, Camille felt compelled to be the protective, sober one for the night. The mom.

As if reading her mind, Chloe spun Camille around to face her. “Cam, I’m serious. You never get the chance to let go. Please just be tonight. We’re all grown. We’re not your responsibility.” Before Camille could protest, the rest of the bridal party chimed in with a variety of agreements, the loudest of which came from Camille’s best friend, Kali.

“Cammie baby, pleaseeeee throw that good girl shit out of the window. We love you for it, but it’s time for a break, sweetheart,” she exclaimed, passing her a shot of Don Julio. Camille took the small glass, feeling the weight of the expectant eyes watching her. Fuck it. When was the last time she was able to get drunk with her girls? In her picture perfect life, these opportunities didn’t come around often. So Camille took a deep breath and downed the shot, leading to an echo of cheers from the rest of the women in the room. Kali proceeded to pour chaser in her mouth as Chloe giggled in her ear. “Who knows, maybe you’ll meet a big, strong man you can ride. All. Night. Long.” Camille chuckled, playfully nudging her sister. She held up her left hand and shoved the heavy engagement ring in her sister’s face. “I’m pretty sure this’ll keep all the big, strong men away from me,” she fired back.

Chloe grinned, showing off an equally impressive engagement ring. “Well I guess I have to take this off because there’s no way I’m not getting any dick tonight.” Camille gasped while her sister just laughed, pulling her out of the room, the group making their way to their Uber Black.

Three hours later, Camille drunkenly stumbled through the streets with her friends, carefree and lost in the thrill of the night. After three daiquiris and four shots, she couldn't have cared less about anything beyond the present moment. Bouncing in and out of bars and clubs, she felt like she was on cloud nine, and there was no part of her that wanted to come down anytime soon.

“Oooooo, let’s go there next!” Chloe exclaimed, pointing to a building with traditional New Orleans architecture draped in Spanish moss. At first glance, the building itself looked unassuming. But the red lights pouring through the windows and entrances hinted that it was a club. And the line of people that snaked around the block hinted that it was a really popular club. One that they couldn’t possibly pass up. Chloe and her entourage headed towards the building. But the closer Camille got, the more something felt… off. An undeniable pull, a magnetic force drawing her toward the building. She didn’t mind it, not really; she was all for making a great night even better. But the strange sensation sent a shiver down her spine, heightening her senses and making her more alert than she’d been all evening. She tried to slow her steps, to pause for a moment to gather her thoughts, but her legs moved on their own, carrying her forward like she was being guided by some invisible hand, trailing behind her sister.

Three bouncers casually stood at the entrance, ignoring the pleas and bribes of the people at the front of the line. But their heads snapped towards them when Chloe approached.

“Excuse me,” Chloe started, turning on her signature innocent and coy act. “We don’t want to be unfair to everyone who’s been waiting, but do we have to stand in such a long line?” Chloe batted her lashes up at them, smoothing her hand over her white ‘Bride’ sash. The one closest to her leaned forward with a smirk, causing a soft gasp to ripple through the entire group.

He was beyond gorgeous. Deep dark skin, sparkling white teeth, a full beard, and expensive gold jewelry. Camille knew that her sister probably experienced love at first sight.

“A lady as pretty you should never have to wait for anything, and neither should your friends,” his Southern drawl rang through the air as he stared into Chloe’s soul. “But we got rules here, baby girl.”

Chloe visibly shuddered, stepping closer to the Adonis. “What do I– I-I mean, what do we have to do to get around these rules?” Chloe panted. The bouncer exchanged a look with the two others, who watched the group intensely… almost hungrily. His eyes shifted back to Chloe’s, glinting with something mischievous. “Tariq, you got any more of them special wristbands?” The bouncer on the far left pulled a set of wristbands from his pocket. They were such a bright red, they seemed to glow in the dark. He pulled a small bundle from his pocket and handed over seven. The lead bouncer looked back at all of them, his lips turning up to show off his perfect teeth. “Now I can get y’all in here right now with these wristbands, but y’all gotta understand that they come with a lot of responsibility. These are only for the ladies that can be the life of the party. Can y’all promise that?” The women nodded eagerly, but Camille’s nod carried some hesitation. The bouncer noticed, making a mental note that he would relay to his friends who were waiting inside.

“Anything for you, daddy,” Kali said, earning a sharp glare from Chloe. All three of the bouncers laughed at Kali's bold comment. “Well since that was such a convincing yes, all I need to see is some ID and y’all can go ahead. Be sure to put them wristbands on though… wouldn’t want to miss out on free drinks and plenty of company.”

The group squealed, practically throwing their driver’s licenses at the three men. They ignored the groans of protest from the people still waiting in line as they put on the red bands. Chloe excitedly moved towards the front door, but was stopped by a strong hand softly grabbing her arm. “One more thing,” the fine ass bouncer stated coolly.

“Yea, sure. Anything…” Chloe let out in a breathy tone. The man gave her a wicked smile. “Save me a dance, baby girl.” Chloe practically turned into a puddle. A shy, smiley puddle. “Yes, sir.” Chloe giggled softly, her gaze lingering on his. That was Camille’s cue to separate the two. She could see it in her sister’s eyes. She was five seconds away from letting that man bend her over in front of everyone. And she just couldn’t let something that scandalous happen on her watch.

The group descended down a wide, dimly lit staircase, its shadowy corners tightening around Camille’s nerves. But as they stepped into the heart of the club, her breath caught in her throat. The scene that unfolded before her was nothing short of electrifying. Red lights bathed the room in a seductive glow, casting sharp contrasts against the sleek black couches and the sea of gyrating bodies that seemed to go on for forever. Couples grinded against each other, lost in the pulse of the music, while women danced on every available surface, adding to the wild, carefree atmosphere. Bottle girls weaved through the crowd, effortlessly balancing trays of shots, bottles, and sparklers, contributing to the chaotic glamour of it all. The music throbbed through the air and vibrated through the walls and floor. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, and Camille knew she'd have to shout just to make herself heard. “Damn, we should’ve started here first,” Kali yelled, doing a 360 to get a full view of the place. Camille nodded, awe slowly replacing her unease.

Suddenly, a stunning bottle girl, who seemed to appear out of thin air, stood in front of the group with a tray full of shots. “Ladies, welcome to Crimson, and thank you for being our very special guests,” she spoke, momentarily glancing at their wristbands. “Can I interest you all in free ambrosia shots?” Something was off about her smile. It seemed too… eager. The alarm bells returned for Camille. Just as she was about to politely decline and guide the group to a more tame section of the club, Kali reached out and grabbed one. She downed it before Camille could object.

“Damn, this is good as fuck! You can’t even taste anything, it’s like juice!” She gave the rest of the bridal party an encouraging smile, before turning her attention back to the smirking bottle girl. “Can I get, like, two more of those?” She asked, already reaching for the tray again. The bottle girl smiled brightly. “Absolutely! And feel free to put any empty glasses back on the tray.”

Camille noticed the way she emphasized empty as the rest of the women reached for their own shot. Chloe threw her head back in a swift motion, a shocked look passing across her face. “There’s no way there’s alcohol in these,” she giggled, placing the empty shot glass on the tray and picking up another one. “Here, Camille, try one!”

Camille almost protested, her instincts screaming to back away. The vibe of the place had her on edge, and she didn’t trust the girl handing out free shots, her smile too wide, too mischievous. But then she remembered her promise to Chloe—and she couldn’t let her down. Camille took the shot from Chloe’s hand and threw it back, hoping the act would be enough to satisfy the bottle girl and move them along. But as the liquid burned its way down, something unexpected happened. The sweet strawberry and honey taste lingered and an insatiable craving for more swept over her. Without a second thought, she grabbed the last shot on the tray and sipped it greedily, the flavors dancing on her tongue. Within moments, a wave of euphoria crashed over her, sweeping away any remaining caution. Like a freight train, the carefree attitude she'd left behind the moment she stepped into Crimson hit her again—but this time, it wasn’t just cloud nine. Instead, she soared to cloud one hundred. Whatever she just drank was far beyond ordinary alcohol. But in that instant, Camille couldn’t have cared less. The rush, the high, it was too intoxicating to question. She was going to chase it, as far and as fast as it would take her.

The cackling of her friends began to fade as a new song caught her attention. It was sultry and fast-paced, and it beckoned her to the dance floor. Her legs carried her to the center of the club, directly under its beaming red lights, giving the crowds in the balcony levels a perfect view of her. And she let herself get carried away by the music. She didn’t know how long she danced for. She just knew that her waist, her ass, and her legs moved to everything that poured out of the speakers. She felt like a butterfly flying freely, untethered. Until two large hands gripped her waist, pulling her back into a broad, warm chest and a thick, long, twitching bulge.

Terry

Terry spotted her as soon as she entered his establishment, his dick immediately standing at attention. A lace-clad goddess who decided to grace the venue with her presence. Although she was leading a group of gorgeous women, her beauty outshone them all—no contest. Not even the shorter one who shared her skin tone and some of her features that she pulled along with her. Sisters, Terry concluded. Although the smaller one, clearly a bride-to-be, was meant to be the star—draped in a form-fitting white dress, crowned with a glittering tiara and veil, Terry’s eyes could only focus on the woman guiding her through the sea of people. He leaned forward in his seat on the fourth-level balcony, subtly tapping the two women on his lap to signal for them to move. They pouted and muttered as they reluctantly stood, but Terry’s attention remained fixed, unaware of their protests. His focus was entirely on the woman below, and he couldn’t look away.

“Boss, we got a few more Indulgences coming in right now. The best group of the night. But the one in the lace might be a problem. I think she can kinda see through The Veil.”

Terry didn’t bother to respond. There was always one human who felt a little more wary when they approached Crimson, the city’s most exclusive club and a hedonistic sanctuary for the wealthiest vampires in the country. It wasn’t uncommon for humans to be drawn to the club’s magnetic pull, an irresistible force that lured them in without them even knowing why. Most would fall victim to the allure, standing in outrageously long lines for the mere chance to step inside. But then there were the others—those with a natural wariness, a sharp intuition that hinted at the dark magic just beneath the surface. They could sense something off, something they couldn’t quite put their finger on, but it was enough to make them hesitate.

In those rare cases, Terry knew exactly what to do. If they were enticing enough for his clients, he made sure they got through the door and stayed for as long as he needed them to. After getting the heads-up from Jabari, Terry had already made his move. Amber, one of his most trusted bottle girls who frequently quenched his thirsts, was dispatched with a tray of ambrosia shots, ready to meet the group of women and pull them deeper into the club’s intoxicating web. A simple push, a little encouragement.

Terry observed as the group warily watched Amber. The first one to accept her offer was a thick, lighter woman with a bob who seemed to be full of personality. One by one, they consumed the golden liquid and he watched them all fall victim to the euphoric feeling that ambrosia brings about. The beauty who caught his eye was the last one to drink after some convincing from the soon-to-be bride. She gave her a weak smile and tossed it back, momentarily exposing her slender neck. Time seemed to slow as she gulped down the liquid, her tongue absentmindedly licking the remainder from her perfectly glossed lips. Terry groaned, imagining those same glossed lips wrapped around his length, leaving stains around his dick as she gagged around him. Fat tears spilling from her big, pretty eyes as he used a fistful of her hair to keep her in place and fuck her throat.

As his latest fixation reached for another shot, this time with enthusiasm, he mentally expressed satisfaction in Jabari’s picks for the night. The whole group exceeded the standards of what an Indulgence should be. From the corner of his eyes, he could see a few of his clients watching the group, their bright red wristbands giving them the greenlight to approach them. As the best supernatural sanctuary in the country, Terry had a reputation he had to maintain. And that included keeping a steady stream of the best Indulgences walking through the doors of Crimson.

The practice of supplying Indulgences had evolved quite a bit since Terry turned hundreds of years ago. In the old days, Indulgences, the breathtaking humans that were deemed desirable enough to feed from and fuck, were a rarity. The lack of modern technology and medical care led to most humans being sickly and in a constant state of survival. Therefore, Indulgences were limited, and most were often fought over or accidentally killed. But as the standard of living increased, they became more plentiful. Vampires noticed and began to invest heavily in the wellbeing of humans. Better farming techniques, improved access to education, innovations in science and technology. All of these things were investments vampires were willing to make so their precious humans would become better off. Now, it’s gotten to the point that Indulgences could be found anywhere. But they couldn’t be approached anywhere. Humans, especially women, were particularly cautious. They often denied the company of vampires in ordinary settings, and their denials were respected under supernatural law. So vampires like Terry had to create spaces that connected Indulgences with vampires, lowered their inhibitions, and motivated them to freely offer their veins, their bodies, and their hearts.

Crimson had been known for the best Indulgences since the 1940s and tonight, Jabari ensured that the reputation continued. Terry made a mental note to reward Jabari for his good judgment. His eyes continued to follow the pretty little thing as she made her way to the dance floor, her barriers lowering with every step she took. Once she got to the center of the club, Terry knew that all supernatural eyes were on her, so he spoke telepathically.

Mine.

One word was all it took, and instantly, everyone knew she was off-limits. Terry was more than just a club co-owner. He was a king in his own right, ruling an empire of power, wealth, and influence that stretched far beyond Crimson’s doors. Decades older than any vampire in the room, his presence commanded a respect that no one dared to question. He was one of the first to utilize The Veil, the arcane system of magic that allowed supernaturals to bend the mortal world to their will. Over the course of his long life, he had slaughtered countless creatures—vampires, goblins, lycans—all without a flicker of hesitation. He was a monster in the truest sense of the word, and only a fool would dare to challenge him.

So, as his clients swarmed the other women eagerly, Terry’s word hung in the air like an impenetrable shield. She remained untouched and unbothered, and no one would dare lay a finger on her.

As the mystery woman swayed seductively to the beat, Terry began his descent to the ground level of Crimson. Humans and supernaturals alike scurried out of his way as he stalked his unsuspecting prey. Growing closer to her, he watched as she threw her arms above her head, flaunting her red wristband. He smirked, knowing she had no idea what was in store for her. He stopped behind her, taking the time to appreciate her body and inhale her scent. Her Coke bottle shape was barely covered by the black lace outfit that showed off her black thong. Intoxicating notes of vanilla, jasmine, and lavender fluttered around her, making his mouth water.

Terry gripped her waist firmly, tugging her back into his chest and her ass into his hard on, causing her to gasp softly. She paused her sexy little whining to look at Terry, craning her neck to get a good view of his 6’3 frame. He smirked as her jaw dropped as she examined his face. Still in a euphoric haze, her eyes began to swirl with lust, awe, and need. Terry grinned down at her, wrapping his arms around her even tighter. She whimpered lightly, rubbing her ass against his print, causing a deep rumbling in his chest. He leaned down, placing his mouth next to her ear. “What’d you stop for, princess? You were giving me such a nice show,” he purred, licking the shell of her ear. A moan passed her pretty ass lips and her head lolled to the side, giving Terry full access to her neck. He chuckled, watching the light thump of her jugular under her skin.

“Come on, baby girl,” he groaned, tracing the major vein with his tongue. “I came all the way downstairs to dance with you, don’t stop now.” She giggled sweetly, looking back at him with a naughty glint in her eye. Then, she began to work her magic. Bending over and placing her hands on her thighs, she expertly rolled her hips to the music, grinding her plump ass further into his dick. Terry bit his lip at the sight, matching her sensual movements, the world disappearing around them. To Terry, it was only him and her left in existence. Twisting, grinding, and rolling against each other. As the song came to an end, she rose to lean back against him, peering at him over her shoulder. Terry decided that he let her have enough fun taking the lead. He had to show her he was a man of control. He spun her around to face him, pulling her dangerously close to him.

She gulped as he pressed the entirety of his covered length against her torso. Gripping her ass, he captured her mouth in a dominating kiss.

Camille

Camille’s breath hitched as the unreal stranger placed a heated kiss against her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth. If she were sober, she wouldn’t believe that she was making out with a random man whose name she didn’t even know. Especially a random man that looked like him. His broad, muscular frame loomed over her effortlessly, even with the four-inch heels adding height to her 5'7" stature. Dressed in sleek black slacks and a casual sweater, his ensemble was effortlessly cool, paired with two gold chains that gave him a smooth, 90s vibe. The combination of his honey-brown skin and understated wealth gave him an undeniable magnetism. The sweet, woody scent of his cologne washed over her senses, an intoxicating blend that mirrored the raw masculinity oozing from him. His dark hair was pulled back into neat cornrows, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the meticulously groomed facial hair that framed it. His full, luscious lips curled into a smile—slow, deliberate, and full of promise. And then there were his eyes. Those eyes. They were the kind that could pull you deeper under his spell with every glance. They promised nothing but a night fulfilling her most carnal desires.

A man this handsome could only be the devil.

His hands moved from her ass to her thighs as he effortlessly picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist, their kiss never breaking. His tongue mercilessly sucked on hers, making her breathless and delirious. Camille tried her best to keep up with the man but he was insatiable. His lips skillfully moved over hers, making her eyes droop and heat pool in her most intimate areas. There was nothing she could do but submit to him and his passion. So she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him lead the head-spinning exchange, which pulled the most lewd sounds from the back of her throat. He shifted her slightly in his arms, making his dick rub directly against her throbbing clit. “Fuck,” she yelped, throwing her head back at the burst of pleasure the movement gave her. The stranger didn’t stop his onslaught of kisses, his mouth nipping and sucking at her jaw, her neck, and her collarbone, continuing to grind his pelvis into hers. Camille sucked in a sharp breath, feeling a delicious tension build in her pussy. The man’s hands gripped further into her flesh and he chuckled in her ear. “If you keep making those pretty little sounds, I’m gonna make you nut on this dick all fucking night,” he growled before he shoved his tongue back into her mouth. His raunchy promise and dominating tongue sent Camille toppling over the edge. With a pathetic, needy moan into his mouth, she shuddered in his arms, a blinding orgasm rippling through her body.

He pulled away from her, watching as she convulsed in his arms. His eyes, which seemed to shift between steel blue and hazel green, stared directly into her soul, making another pitiful moan pass through her lips. As she slowly descended from her high, their gazes locked, their breath heavy and unsteady. In that moment, something passed between them. Something unspoken, something more profound than lust or two horny bodies grinding on a dancefloor. It was an electric undercurrent, too elusive to define, but too powerful to ignore. Was it tenderness? Devotion? Whatever it was, Camille felt it course through her like wildfire, a quiet intensity that seemed to vibrate in the air around them. And from the heat in his eyes, she knew he felt it too. That look, their connection—intense, undeniable—was all it took to jolt her back to reality.

This has gone way too far, Camille thought. She shook her head lightly, trying to break herself out of the trance she was under. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered to the gorgeous man she was clinging to. His eyebrows furrowed, his grip tightening as she attempted to get out of his hold.

“Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?” His deep, rich voice asked her sincerely and she blinked slowly as her pussy throbbed, begging to be stuffed by the hard on that was still pressed into her crotch. Fuck, this was so wrong. She was a taken woman. “No, no you didn’t do anything wrong,” she smiled down at him shyly. “It’s just that… I-I shouldn’t have done this and I don’t want it to go too far.” He laughed.

“We’re grown, baby girl. What happens beyond this stays between us.” He stated, placing an open-mouthed kiss on her jaw, making her squirm against his bulge.

“That’s the thing,” she sighed, raising her left hand to display her ring. “An engaged woman shouldn’t have even let it get to this point.” The stranger’s hypnotizing eyes moved from hers to the band around her left ring finger, which he stared at for a second. Disappointment, and another feeling that she couldn’t place, flickered across his expression. Then his eyes shifted back to hers and he nodded in understanding, gingerly placing her back on her feet. He kept a hand on her waist, his confident smile returning. “Thanks for the dance, Ms…” his voice trailed off expectantly. Camille opened her mouth to respond, but was swiftly interrupted by her best friend’s yelling.

“Cam! Cam! Come on, we gotta go! Some weirdo tried to like, I don't know, eat Chloe!” Kali yelled frantically, tugging Camille. “What!? What are you talking about? Where is she?!” Camille ran behind Kali, completely abandoning her momentary lover. She and Kali ripped through the crowded dance floor and rushed to a set of stairs that led to the second story of the club. Chloe sat slumped against the banister, sobbing into her hands as the rest of the group and the bouncer from earlier tried to console her. “Chloe, baby are you okay?” Camille’s little sister shot up at the sound of her voice, throwing herself into her arms.

“Oh Cammie, it was awful,” she sobbed as Camille held her. “Some guy and I were dancing but he wanted me to do coke with him so I tried to get away from him. But then he started trying to fucking bite me and-and–” Chloe sobbed harder. Camille turned to the bouncer. “Where is he? Did he get away?” There’s no way the club would let him get away with something like that, right?

“No ma’am, we’ve got him in custody upstairs. He won’t be able to hurt anybody else.” He reassured Camille, but his eyes remained on Chloe.

“Cammie, I don’t want to stay here if he’s still here,” Chloe hiccuped, holding onto her sister tighter. Camille stroked her cheek, guilt consuming her. She should’ve stayed with her sister. She never should’ve wandered off! She wouldn’t have gotten hurt if she wasn’t getting tongued down by a man she just met.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to stay here any longer,” she sighed, kissing her sister's forehead. The fun, tipsy, and carefree Camille was gone. The rigid and responsible Camille returned as she ordered the rest of the bridal party to make their way to the entrance.

“Is everything alright over here?” The smooth, deep voice made Camille shiver. She knew who it belonged to immediately, but she refused to face him, embarrassed of how she behaved a few moments ago. He must've followed her when she ran with Kali. She could feel the heat rolling off of him, letting her know that he stood dangerously close to her. But she couldn’t focus on the Casanova that made her cum from simply grinding and kissing. She needed to focus on her sister.

“A patron tried to fee– bite one of the ladies in this group, boss. I rushed to help her once I heard screams. We got him upstairs,” the bouncer replied hurriedly, his eyes trained on the man behind Camille. He grunted in response.

“Ladies, I apologize for this encounter. Crimson takes great pride in vetting its patrons and it's unacceptable that a character like this slipped past us. He will be taken care of,” her mystery man spoke with authority. Camille glanced at him in shock as she rocked her sister, who was now only sniffling. Did he own this place? Who really was the man she dry fucked danced with tonight?

He gazed back at her for a moment, but turned his attention back to Chloe’s knight in shining armor. “Jabari, please escort these ladies out and ensure that we get them the best transportation back to their accommodations.” Jabari nodded, helping them get their bearings. As Camille prepared to turn on her heel, soft, thick lips quickly pressed against her cheek. “Get home safe.” The mystery man gave her one final glance before swiftly climbing the stairs. She stared after him, her heart, and her pussy, aching from the fact that she would never see him again.

Camille felt so disappointed in herself as Jabari ushered them into a sleek, black Cadillac Escalade. Her sister’s night was ruined because she slipped up and left her alone. She should’ve never let her guard down. She should’ve never taken those shots. And she definitely shouldn’t have given that man a dance. Because that’s all she could think about.

How her body molded into his. How she responded to his touch. How he gazed into her eyes. How wet she got for him. And that orgasm… she couldn’t even remember having one that good before… especially not with her fiancé. It felt as if she had found her soulmate, only to be torn away from him, her chest aching with every passing second.

Camille shook her head, a desperate attempt to clear her thoughts. She shouldn’t be thinking like this. Not with her sister’s head in her lap as their driver pulled off towards their hotel. Kali and the rest of the girls chattered quietly as Camille stroked her sister’s hair. Hopefully the one hour at Crimson didn’t overshadow the entire night for her.

Camille sighed and leaned her head against her seat’s window. I just need to get back to Houston, she thought. And then I’ll be able to forget about him and put this night behind me.

Terry

Terry’s jaw clenched as he peered out of the window, watching Jabari get the group of women into the luxury SUV. Jabari closed the front passenger door as the last one put on her seatbelt. He then jogged to the driver’s side and briefly spoke to the chauffeur. After a tap on the hood, the driver sped off in the direction of Bourbon Street. Terry stepped away from the window and turned to look at the center of the room. A man dangled from a meat hook attached to the tall ceiling, thrashing in the chains used to restrain him. Terry’s blood boiled as he watched him struggle, muffled pleas trying to pass the gag in his mouth. His face was barely recognizable, but Terry knew it was Justin Grey. The 20-something year-old son of some Hollywood executive who was turned six months ago. Terry knew he was too young and immature to behave himself around Indulgences. But his business partners thought otherwise. Justin’s $5,000,000 donation was just too enticing to pass up.

Both of Justin’s eyes were nearly swollen shut. Bruises bloomed across his face and neck. His nose was obviously broken. A gash on his cheek leaked blood onto the floor. Although the man’s vampire status would’ve dulled the pain of a human’s attempt to hurt him, the ass whooping he got from his fellow supernaturals had him writhing in agony.

Terry shook his head as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. If it wasn’t for this motherfucker, he would be in one of the private rooms upstairs with his recent dance partner, letting her ride his face and his dick until the sun rose. But no. He had to deal with this bullshit. Bullshit that ran seven perfect Indulgences out of his club. It wasn’t the end of the world, his clients would still be satisfied. There were about fifty men and women walking around Crimson with the red wristbands. Only fifteen clients were present today, so they had plenty to choose from. But he could tell that the bachelorette party was a fan favorite, since most of his clients eagerly joined to beat the man who ran them off. They circled Justin’s upside down form, waiting for Terry to give them the greenlight to finish him off.

Terry sipped the dark liquor slowly, savoring the burn in the back of his throat. He walked over to Justin and crouched down near his face. Justin took labored breaths, flinching as Terry’s hand reached for the gag in his mouth. In one fluid motion, Terry yanked the rag out of mouth, sending blood and teeth scattering across the floor. Justin cried out. Terry just stared, giving him a sarcastic smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Friends, guests…,” Terry started as he slowly rose to his feet. “What is the single most important rule when handling Indulg–”

“Terry, man come on. I-I didn’t… I j-just got a little carried awa–” Justin began to beg.

“Shut. The Fuck. Up,” Terry gritted. No one moved, no one dared to reply, so Terry began again. “Indulgences should never… ever… be forced to do anything. No matter what. It is our responsibility to convince. To seduce. Our interactions with humans, especially Indulgences, are meant to be mutualistic. We give as much as we take. If we go around abusing them and acting entitled, we’ll eventually lose access to them. And if we lose access to them, our chances of survival get real fucking slim.”

Terry took another slow sip of whiskey, his expression calm, but his words laced with venom. Contrary to popular folklore, vampires didn’t loathe humans, they thrived on them. Humans were their life force, their source of entertainment, their companions in an otherwise meaningless existence. They brought color to the gray monotony of their extended lifetimes. Disruptions to this delicate, symbiotic bond were rare, but when they happened, they were never taken lightly. Terry and other vampires had spent centuries cultivating these relationships, and this small transgression was a threat to that hard-won balance. What made it worse was that the woman who had captured his heart was entangled in this mess. But despite the simmering rage beneath his calm exterior, he refused to let this minor setback derail his evening. He was still going to put someone through a mattress tonight, so he was going to make this quick.

Jabari walked into the room, nodding towards Terry to confirm that the women were heading back towards their hotel. He nodded back, taking a final sip of whiskey before placing the glass on a nearby surface.

“Everyone, please don’t let the foolish actions of one ruin your night. When you’re ready, return to the main area and have your fun,” Terry spoke diplomatically. Then he turned his attention to Jabari, who glared menacingly at Justin.

“Jabari,” Terry called calmly. Jabari’s eyes snapped in his direction.

“You were interested in the girl that Justin attacked, yes?” Jabari simply nodded. Terry hummed in response. “Will you do the honors and kill him? Try not to be too loud, we don’t want to disturb the rest of the club.”

Jabari grinned, shifting into his supernatural form as he stalked toward Justin.

“No, NO! Terry please, I-I-I learned my lesson! It won’t happen again!” Justin cried out as Jabari’s eyes shifted to a deep red, his canines elongating and his nails sharpening.

Terry drowned out Justin’s screams as Jabari's claws pierced his flesh, ripping him apart. He knew Jabari would finish the job right, so he made his way towards the door without looking back, pulling his business phone out of his pocket. Now that the situation was handled, his mind could return to more pressing matters. The lovely little vixen who put him under her spell in less than twenty minutes. He swiped through the electronic records that another bouncer, Tariq, sent him. They displayed copies of all of the driver’s licenses that were scanned that night. He searched through dozens of photos before he landed on one that made his heart skip a beat.

Camille DeWaterson.

04/26/1995.

Houston, Texas.

Each passing second that Terry’s eyes lingered on the photo solidified his decision. The decision he made when she had rushed off to tend to her sister now felt inevitable—he was going to pursue her with everything he had. The moment they shared on the dancefloor wasn’t just a fleeting connection; it was raw, too real to dismiss. When she had looked at him, there had been something in her gaze, something that bordered on reverence. As if he had become her anchor in a world full of uncertainty. He couldn’t shake the intensity of it, the desire to see that look again, to make her feel that way once more. And the way she came undone in his arms? It was so fucking erotic. If she writhed against him like that just from some kissing and touching, how would she act underneath him as he stretched her out. Would she scream his name? Would she beg him to let her cum? Would she wet up his sheets? He was determined to find out. And once he did, he would never let her go.

Besides, she obviously needed to be saved from her engagement. No properly satisfied woman would have acted how she did. It was practically a cry for help. A bat signal that said she needed someone to take care of her body, mind, and soul. And Terry knew he would be the best person to do so. Not the lame ass nigga she was with now.

He took a screenshot of the driver’s license and tucked the phone back into his pocket. Tomorrow, he would dig through the internet for everything linked to his new obsession. But right now, he needed to find some relief and bury himself in some pussy. He was still hard from the dance he got and Camille’s ID picture only made the tightening in his groin worse. He waved over Amber as she headed in his direction. Once she stood in front of him, he wordlessly threw her over his shoulder, hauling her upstairs towards the private rooms.

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@nayaesworld @slvt4her @writingsbytee @kaylaahisthebestest @notapradagurl7 @23jammy so sorry if I missed anyone, please comment so I can add you for next week!

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