Blood Awakening: The Strongest Hybrid and His Vampire Bride-Chapter 345: Moonlight Alliance Leader, and Volkov Patriarch - Nikolai Volkov

The hours passed in a blur of flesh, moans, and the lewd rhythm of wet bodies colliding.

Risa had begged to go again—and again—until her voice cracked and her twitching pussy oozed more than it could hold. Nikita had broken a second time, clinging to his chest with her thighs still parted, her breath caught in the last whisper of his name.

Amphitrite trembled with every touch, her body still adjusting to the fullness of what she'd been given. Even Kumiko had returned, not to ride, but to seal his seed into the girls who couldn't hold it.

Selene lay curled at his side, her back marked by the imprint of his hands, her lips parted in the soft sleep of a woman claimed completely.

They were all around him now—limbs sprawled, thighs still glistening, the sheets beneath soaked and heavy. The scent of sex choked the air: heat, salt, sweetness, and the lingering tang of sweat and climax.

And across the room… she remained.

—

Less than two hours remained until the doors opened.

"W...why didn't you do anything to me?" Lunaria asked, a voice tinged in shame and expectation.

All the other women slept on the large bed, while she leaned on the soft, spare bed beside Nikolai, who closed his eyes with no shirt.

His chest full of scars, cuts, and marks from the women made Lunaria curious.

She watched his skin rise and fall with each breath, the angles of his body soft in rest, but never truly relaxed. He was too still. Too calm. Although his eyes were closed, Nikolai wasn't sleeping.

"Were you not curious about me?" Lunaria asked. "Even once?"

Nikolai didn't answer right away.

Lunaria's fingers twitched at her side. Her thighs rubbed together faintly. She had made herself cum—twice? Three times? She'd lost count. Every moan from the bed had pulled her deeper into her spiral. And yet, he hadn't even touched her. Not once.

She glanced down at her legs, spread slightly, her inner thighs still sticky, a faint shimmer of arousal drying against her flushed skin. Her body ached—but not from pleasure.

From waiting.

"…I touched myself the whole time," she whispered.

Still no answer.

Her voice cracked slightly, shame tightening her throat. "Did you not want me?"

Nikolai finally opened his eyes.

His gaze met hers—and in that instant, her breath caught.

He sat up without a word.

Nikolai's muscles tightened when he moved, before he looked at her with a sigh. His cock was soft, and spent... but even without that arousal he couldn't hide its imposing presence.

"I wanted you the moment I saw you," he said. "But I've touched every woman in this room."

His voice was low. Measured. Dangerous in its calm.

"You," he continued, "haven't been touched by anyone. Not yet. Not even by me."

Lunaria gasped, her lips parting, while her gills fluttered faintly along her neck. The faint scent of the others still hung in the air, but now, drowned out by something else.

Anticipation.

"But what about her, that mermaid... she was a virgin too..."

He looked at Lunaria before smiling. "I didn't think you would be so jealous."

Her fins flared slightly. "Who is jealous of you? That's a horrible excuse!"

Lunaria could help but feel furious just because of her conflicting feelings. Her feelings for Nikolai became much deeper. He saved her from death, and the new body she gained was extremely sensitive to pleasure and stimulation.

She closed her mouth and watched Nikolai's face, while leaning closer, subconsciously, the bed creaked faintly between their bodies.

Nikolai returned her gaze and brushed his hair back with a soft sigh.

"I didn't touch you for a reason..." he said before shifting closer. "Because I didn't want to rush everything.

Lunaria didn't move.

He stretched out and leaned against her shoulder while closing his eyes. The spare bed dipped as he moved closer. Nikolai placed his hand on her soft, tight skin, enjoying the warmth of her smooth skin and silky scales.

"I've been watching you too," he admitted. "You were beautiful tonight. Even while you were pretending not to want me."

Her breath caught again—too quick this time.

"I wasn't pretending," she whispered, cheeks flushed, eyes locked stubbornly forward. "I just… didn't want to be… a name on the list."

"You aren't," he said.

His thumb brushed over her thigh in a slow, gentle stroke.

"You're the one I didn't touch. The one I'm still thinking about."

She turned to him then—eyes wide, lashes damp, throat tight with something she didn't want to call hope.

"Then… when?"

Nikolai leaned towards her and kissed her forehead with a gentle peck.

"When it's just us."

"When it's not about the others. Or the test. Or who's next?"

Lunaria shivered. Her eyes dropped to his lips, and her thighs pressed together.

And for the first time all night… she smiled.

"So, you don't find my repulsive in this new body?"

"Of course not... look."

He lifted the quilt and showed her something. "It's still hard!?" Lunaria gasped, turning bright red, while her scales shone a deep blue.

Lunaria's face turned away, but she didn't stop... or rather, her eyes peeked back at the sight with shimmering blue scales down her thighs, but she looked hungry as if she might burn herself under the quilt if asked.

"I thought you said you were tired…"

"I am," Nikolai said calmly. "But it's you."

He didn't smirk. Didn't tease.

He just looked at her—with that same still, dark gaze he gave only when he meant every word.

"You didn't even touch me yet," she whispered, voice small.

"You didn't need to," he replied.

Lunaria stared at him—gills fluttering faintly, breath trembling in her throat. Her hand reached out, fingers brushing his under the quilt, a timid contact. Her fingers were cool, but soft. Careful.

"…Then maybe… you could touch me now?" she asked.

Nikolai looked at her, and for the first time that night, hesitated.

Not out of doubt.

But because the weight of what she said meant something.

Nikolai reached out to Lunaria slowly, to avoid scaring her away. He brushed the loose strands of pink hair behind her ear. The back of his knuckles grazed across her delicate cheek scales.

Her eyes fluttered shut at the touch, lips parting, breath caught halfway.

"I could," he said. "But…"

A low chime echoed in the distance.

Soft. Resonant.

Then again.

Dong…

The sound of the countdown bell.

One hour left.

Lunaria's eyes widened slightly. She looked to the bed, to the others still sprawled and glowing in their satisfied sleep. Her chest rose and fell with conflicted breath. She turned back to him, lips parting to ask again.

But he raised a finger to her lips.

"Next time," he said quietly.

And she nodded.

——

Lunaria leaned against his big hand, her eyes squinting shut as his fingertips brushed along her jawline, touching her like she was something delicate. Not because he thought she'd break. But because he didn't want to treat her like the others.

Not yet.

"Next time," he'd said. But her body still ached. Not from denial. Not from rejection.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

From being seen.

From being wanted without being taken.

She breathed softly before slowly leaning forward, resting her head against his collarbone. He didn't pull away. He didn't move. His arms simply wrapped around her—loose, warm, steady.

The rest of the room was still coated in heat and scent. The bed held the sleeping weight of the other women—Selene's silver hair curled across his pillow, Nikita's fingers still twitching in sleep, Risa's tails twitching against the sheets, even in her dreams.

But this moment—this space—was quiet.

Lunaria's body relaxed against his. Her cheek settled against his bare chest, just beside the old scars that marred him. She traced one lightly with a single fingertip, the curve of it sharp against his skin.

"Who gave you this one?" she whispered.

He looked down, eyes barely open. "A mistake. A long time ago."

She smiled softly and let her hand fall still.

Another chime rang out—dong…—a second note in the countdown to dawn. Her breath slowed. Her gills moved less. Her legs curled around his beneath the thin quilt. For the first time in weeks, her body no longer twitched from tension or fear.

Only warmth.

Only him.

"I want you to be my first..."

"I know."

And as her eyes slid shut, as her hand rested over the slow beat of his heart, Nikolai closed his eyes too.

And held her through the hour that remained.

The final chime faded, and with it, the chamber locks disengaged with a muted clunk.

Soft light crept through the widening gap in the door. Cool, sterile air poured in, diluting the heat that had soaked the room for hours.

Boot steps echoed softly across the floor.

Leona stepped inside, her orange hair pulled high into a ponytail, crisp maid's uniform immaculate as ever. She paused just beyond the threshold, and her nose wrinkled almost immediately.

"…By the gods," she muttered. "It smells like a brothel."

She cautiously stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room, before noticing the soaked bedding and girls covered in dried white fluids and shook her head. Leona then noticed Nikolai sitting shirtless, with his eyes half closed.

"Patriarch..."

Leona snorted at his confident gaze, her eyes closing. "I hope you're proud of yourself."