Vampiress Novels & Stories

A long, black tendril of his hair tickled her skin as he leaned forward and ran his tongue slowly up her spine. She shivered and moaned, making his cock flex at the sound. He licked up her spine again and again, taking a moment to nip with his teeth, which sent her into a frenzy of movement. Her skin looked so delicate, but he knew her heritage made her a thousand times stronger than he was, even when he was in full health. Cassia was Vârcolac: both vampire and wolf. She had a feisty lust that made her the most alluring woman he had ever lain with.

Then, a powerful voice rang out across the battlefield: “Guys—don’t be shy. Grab yourselves a snack.” Harpies shrieked in horror as hundreds of vampires appeared from nowhere on the batterfiled. Unlike wolves, they could fly—fast, merciless, and hungry. Vampires pounced on harpies, piercing their skin with fangs to drink them dry. Piercing screams of harpies filled the air, and they rushed to leave the fight, trying to escape the death.

I grinned slightly, spit out my gum I still had tucked in between my cheek and gum as I headed back to my single story home. My real name is Hera Constantine, a five hundred and thirty eight year old le femme vampire who is a paid assassin for the uber elite, there are only a handful of us. I'm petite, ruthless and very blunt. My clients call me Pandora because I listen to my playlists on the app as I make my kills. I hate other vampires although not many remain, after the governments of the world started destroying us, but that's another story. I have one rule, I won't kill anyone under eighteen. There are others that kill kids, but I'm not one of them. I live by myself and have no desire t

She made no effort to repair her appearance—didn't need to, wouldn't deign to. He'd been feeding again. And judging by the metallic tang threading through the air's perfumed warmth, they'd been doing considerably more than that. The vampiress smiled in return—slow, sultry, knowing. Her lashes were impossibly long and heavy, framing eyes that drifted across Naska's form like she was the one intruding on something sacred. Wine-dark hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, pinned only at the temples with combs of carved bone and gold that probably cost more than Naska earned in a year.

With a serious face, Frey started talking about herself. There are two types of vampires.Pureblood and mixed-blood vampires.Pure-blooded vampires are the original descendants of ancestral vampires.While mixed vampires are obtained in various ways such as marriage between humans and vampires, or other ways.Frey is a pure-blooded vampire who has a body that looks the same as a human.Even so, she also has strength that exceeds ordinary humans.

Long hair is scattered all over the coffin, each strand is jet-black, soft as silk, flowing smoothly under the body. Oralie looked at the girl lying in the coffin, her brows furrowed slightly, her eyes showing a thoughtful expression. Because the coffin had been lying here for so long that it was covered with moss. However, lying inside was not a dry skeleton with white bones, nor a corpse rotting to the bone, but a young girl. A young girl who may be still in her youth but is infected with the ultimate grief of May. Obviously, the one lying here was a vampire, a blood-sucking demon that was at least a few hundred years old.

Mariana said to her. "Oh,be careful the way you talk about us,are you forgetting that am a vampiress too,do you want me to suck your blood right now"the maid said to her and Mariana became scared immediately realizing that they were the only ones in the house.she was alone with a vampiress.

Kristi moved toward the row of spruce, separating the boughs with her hands and getting ready to step to between them. Three shadowy figures moved easily through the dark woods, heading south and east. There were few paths here, but they weaved their way effortlessly among the leafless trees, making almost no sound. They could have moved faster—much faster—but they had no need for haste. The leader was a woman, short in stature, with full lips and black hair cut just below her chin. She looked to be in her twenties, but she was older, much older. Her name was Victoria, and she was nearly four hundred years old. She was a vampire. Victoria had been turned by an eccentric Austrian nobleman in

Daisy interrupts her bedtime story to communicate to him important, time-sensitive information: “Serapine is so so soooo pretty. I loooove her ears.” He presses his lips together before resuming his reading. Among the Vampyres, fangs are not just teeth—they are status.

“Damn you for making me wait.” I clenched my fist until my nails dug into my palm. If Dennise had gone back to the Cross alone… she was already in the viper’s nest. Lowell returned from his room emerging soundless like a skinwalker he was. He sat down opposite to mine and Hessa was nowhere to be seen. The photograph still lay on my desk, the grainy image of the fangs cutting into me like a blade. I couldn’t look away. The Vampyres, the fastest and stronger than one hundred humans in comparison.