My Family in the Novel?

Pop!!!

A popping sound was heard.

"You, said anything, right, Father? So, you wouldn't mind me taking some of your mana, right?" Elaniel said as she continued to lick the side of my sword.

"Agh!"

With a sudden, guttural exclamation a moan escaped my lips as Elaniel skillfully enveloped me once again. Her actions were nothing short of expert, as if she held the prowess of a seductress, twirling her tongue with a mastery that seemed almost divine. Her crimson red eyes, fixed on mine, intensified the electrifying connection between us.

Unable to resist the allure of her enchanting gaze, I felt a surge of arousal coursing through me. The combination of her seductive expressions and the skillful movements of her tongue worked like a potent spell, making my already hardened arousal reach new dimensions.

"This girl," I thought, my mind racing with desire, "if you make a seductive face like that, I can't help but ravage it."

The intensity of the moment had a magnetic pull, and before Elaniel could fully comprehend the direction the encounter was taking, my hands acted on instinct.

I seized hold of her head, guiding her to swallow deeper, the boundaries of pleasure blurring in the heated exchange.

A momentary realization struck me as the intensity of the encounter threatened to push me over the edge.

"Shit, I almost came right there. I better be careful,"

"Gugh! Mph!"

She responded with a throaty, almost primal gagging sound, a brief interruption in the symphony of our heightened encounter.

Surprisingly, rather than pulling away, she embraced it, moving with an unabashed eagerness that conveyed an unspoken agreement. It was as if she had an intuitive understanding, a silent pact forged in the heat of the moment.

To my amazement, her initiative took over, and I relinquished control as she ardently devoured me.

"Wh-what are you two doing!" Merlalda practically screamed as her eyes widened in shock upon discovering us.

She instinctively covered her face with her hands, yet her curiosity betrayed her as her eyes peeked through her fingers, unable to tear her gaze away.

Amidst the tension, the sound of fervent slurping resonated, punctuating the awkwardness of the moment.

With a voice restrained by the pleasure coursing through, I managed to respond, "I'm feeding her," attempting to justify the unconventional scene playing out before Merlalda's eyes.

Merlalda could only stare at me with a mixture of disbelief and amusement, as if my explanation bordered on the absurd.

The air hung heavy with an awkward energy, and I could sense her internal struggle to make sense of the spectacle before her.

Ignoring Merlalda's incredulous gaze, Elaniel, undeterred, continued our intimate session. The charged atmosphere intensified, and I felt the telltale signs that I was on the brink of climax.

My hands, acting on a primal instinct, forcefully guided her movements, deepening the connection between us.

The room seemed to pulse with a forbidden energy, the sounds of pleasure mingling with Merlalda's gasps of surprise.

"Mppffhh!"

I rose from my seated position, a primal urgency guiding my movements. Instinctively, I began to sway my hips in rhythm with the intoxicating dance of pleasure that enveloped us.

Her mouth, a velvety sanctuary, welcomed my fervent advances, and the exquisite interplay of her tongue, throat, and the tightness that enveloped me heightened the intensity of our union.

With each thrust, the pleasure mounted, an electrifying symphony resonating through every fiber of my being. The slickness of her saliva added a sinful glide to the passionate ballet of our bodies, compelling me to move faster and faster, lost in the throes of ecstasy.

In a final, forceful surge, the dam of desire broke, and my essence spilled into the warmth of her mouth. The release was a visceral culmination, and my throbbing member quivered with the aftershocks of pleasure. Yet, even as I sought a moment of reprieve, Elaniel had different intentions.

Refusing to relinquish her hold, she grasped my lower half with an almost possessive fervor, ensuring not a single drop of our intimate exchange went to waste. Her actions were deliberate, a provocative display of desire that transcended the boundaries of the ordinary.

The room pulsated with a lingering tension, a charged silence settling in the aftermath of our erotic entanglement. As the echoes of pleasure lingered in the air, we remained ensnared in the intimate aftermath, where desire and surrender merged into an intoxicating dance of passion.

I gazed at her once again, and this time, her body twitched uncontrollably. She forcefully pushed my body away with pronounced coughs, her distress evident.

As she looked at me with tears in her eyes, a strange transformation occurred – her once crimson red eyes turned back to their original calm green eyes that was much much livelier. Despite the tears, a newfound annoyance marked her expression.

"How could you—" she began to stammer, but in a sudden twist, another twitch seized her, and her eyes reverted to their previous crimson hue.

"Sorry about that, father. I wanted to let my new friend taste you as well, hehe" she explained with an unsettling casualness, leaving me bewildered and questioning the nature of her actions.

Before I could seek clarification, a wooden bat, adorned with menacing thorns, swung into view and collided with my face.

The impact was sharp and immediate, a jolt of pain that sent a shockwave through my senses. It seemed Meralda, witnessing the unconventional scene, couldn't endure it any longer, and this unconventional punishment was her response.

Bam!!

The sound reverberated in the air as the wooden bat struck again, delivering a form of retribution for the perceived transgressions.

I sighed in acceptance

Despite the pain, a strange acceptance settled within me, recognizing that perhaps this small punishment was a deserved punishment for me.

….

Suddenly, in a deep, dark room, Charlotte opened her red eyes. Still in a groggy and pained state, she struggled to analyze her situation. The last thing she remembered was being swallowed by a black portal that had appeared behind her.

Despite the absence of demonic miasma affecting her body, she couldn't understand why her regeneration hadn't kicked in yet. The cuts and wounds on her body remained, and attempts to use her mana proved futile.

Even her racial ability to control blood, a fundamental power for a vampire, seemed inaccessible. She felt a sense of vulnerability and confusion in this unfamiliar environment.

She once again surveyed her surroundings and noticed that she was lying on a pristine, soft, white bed. Despite her open wounds, no blood stained the immaculate sheets.

Casting her eyes around the room, she felt a shiver run down her spine at the walls of darkness that resembled smoke. The only well-lit area was her bed and the one-meter radius around it.

However, Charlotte hesitated to explore or get out of bed. For the first time in her life as a vampire, she found herself gripped by an uncharacteristic fear of the dark.

The oppressive atmosphere in the room made her uneasy, and the boundaries between light and shadow seemed more foreboding than comforting.

Gradually, she discerned a sound emanating from the darkness—an echo of small, measured steps. The clicking noise intensified, signaling that whatever was emerging from the shadows was drawing nearer. In response, Charlotte clutched the bed blanket tightly, a rather undignified sight for a high-ranking vampire. Yet, in some inexplicable way, the thin layer of fabric provided her with a semblance of safety.

Abruptly, a rift in the darkness unveiled its contents, revealing a doll that began to advance toward her. Its emotionless eyes and the never-ending blank smile painted on its face transfixed her gaze. As the doll steadily approached, Charlotte felt a lump in her throat, and goosebumps prickled across her entire body. The unsettling encounter with this eerie, lifeless figure left her on edge.

She wasn't generally afraid of dolls; in fact, she cherished them. Over the course of her century-long existence as a vampire, she had taken pleasure in amassing a diverse collection of dolls from all corners of the continent. However, a nagging instinct within her blood signaled that whatever this particular animated doll was, it harbored a malevolence beyond her imagination.

Abruptly, the doll ceased its advance, fixating its gaze upon her from within the confined white space. In a surreal turn of events, it vanished only to reappear by her side.

Charlotte, paralyzed with fear, felt an overwhelming nausea, as though her entire existence recoiled from its own being.

Unexpectedly, the doll reached out and gently touched her hair, inducing an inexplicable calm within her. Slowly, she turned her gaze towards it, finding tears streaming down her face.

Despite her fear, she sensed that averting her eyes might trigger its anger, and so, she forced herself to meet its gaze.

"So, he brought another one, huh? From a corpse-like lady, and now a vampire—an actual undead. At this rate, that dumb brother of mine will become a god of the undead. Even though he knows that he can't do foolish things that might affect his evolution"

Charlotte couldn't comprehend the doll's words; they sounded like jumbled chaos that threatened to shatter her soul. Desperate to block out the unsettling noise, she covered her ears with her hands.

The doll, sensing her distress, touched her once more, and miraculously, all the pain that had tormented her vanished. Her vampiric powers surged back, and her wounds rapidly regenerated.

"Come with me."

As her body was enveloped in a dark smoke, an unexpected clarity settled in. Suddenly, she could understand the doll's words.

The doll gracefully rose from the bed, extending its hand towards her. Despite her lingering fear, Charlotte, feeling an odd compulsion, hesitantly took the doll's hand and followed along.

She closed her eyes as they approached the dark smoke, but when she dared to take a slight peek, they were in another bed—similar but slightly different from the one she had rested on.

"A corpse?" Charlotte asked, perplexed, as she noticed a bloody body lying on the bed. Strangely, there were no bloodstains on the sheets.

The doll gently dragged Charlotte closer to the corpse and spoke, "Turn her. You can do that, right?"

"Y-yes, but—" Charlotte began, intending to explain that she couldn't turn a dead person. However, as she looked at the body again, she realized it was somehow still alive and breathing.

Without any choice, Charlotte cut her palm and opened the corpse-like body's mouth, allowing it to drink her blood.