Sofia lay chained to the long wooden table, ankles spread wide, Larry's release still warm and sticky between her thighs. The hall's laughter and the clink of wine glasses had never fully stopped; now it only grew louder as more vampires drifted closer, cups in hand, eyes bright with the easy greed of a race that had just been handed a second chance at life.
Larry climbed off the table, tucking himself away with a satisfied smirk. "She's still open. Still dripping. Who's next?"
A tall vampire with sharp cheekbones and a lazy grin stepped forward first. He was one of the ones who had been carrying trays of roasted meat earlier; now he set his cup down on the edge of the table and looked Sofia over like she was the main course.
"Turn her over," he said. "I want her face down."
