Serenity’s Key: VDB 3 (The VDB Trilogy)

Scene – Pascal Van Der Braack’s Berlin Apartment, with Thomas Clostocker (his nephew)

Moronic child. Not that 21 was truly a child but the boy acted as one.

He huffed and swung himself back out of the kitchen area to head back into the lounge, hearing footsteps following. Thankfully, the boy was beginning to understand his new place in society, which was well above where it once was. “There is a brown three piece in my closet. Put it on, and shine your shoes. They are most distressed. Berlin will not see me falter because of your incapacity. You are my second. Behave as such.” It was bad enough that the inbreeds might believe him lowered in status because of Alexander. He would not have himself tarnished yet more by upstarts who did not know the correct way to dress. That reminded him to send the boy to Packshiltz while they were there if they had any time. At the very least, the boy would be fully tailored before either of them were killed. “And call Herman Packshiltz for the measuring of your scrawny ass.”

“Yes, Omm.”


He pulled in long breaths and headed into his suite, where he could at least refresh himself and find some order in the chaos before beginning his hunting expedition. He had to find Lilah. Nothing had come through on email, no calls either. He stabbed at his phone again, sending out several sharp emails and messages to various people regarding their findings, then began stripping himself of a two day old suit, which would have been jettisoned instantly but for the sweet smell of Lilah lingering on it. He held the shirt to his face, breathing her in as a newborn would its first breath. Her perfume mingled with the other spice-ridden scent—Alexander. Even in a hospital, the man managed to hold on to his overriding notes of sandalwood and cinnamon. The mixture of the two was near debilitating as it ebbed its way through his innards, reminding him of the two of them together.

He slung the thing on the floor and ripped at his trousers, flinging them to join the discarded shirt before grasping hold of his cock for relief as he moved into the bathroom.

The shower spray reminded him of Lilah scalding her sins from her body, so he ramped the lever up to match her sensations, and then turned it yet more. The pelting of the scorching water caused him to moan in torment, bracing his hand on the wall for balance. Tension flooded him with the very first pull on himself, which immediately caused his balls to rise. He pulled again, slowly, exposing the head of his cock to the burning water and letting it linger. Pain assaulted him instantly, not only from the water but from the need to empty himself. Just the thought of them together in their sordid way had him nearly exploding. He tugged again, more vigorously this time, shoving the skin back and forth to create bliss as the scalding rain kept coming. He was assaulted by visions of his beloved’s hands holding him viciously on his knees, her lips caressing him as he fucked her that morning. Her mouth around his cock, her slender fingers linked with his. His beloved’s eyes, that scowl of his when he was displeased. And his lips, too. Those never ending fucking lips of his. Licking themselves at him and holding themselves back from just taking what he wanted. When would he fucking take it? The damned man needed pushing to get on with it. He longed to feel Alexander buried inside him, longed for that finalisation. There would be nothing after that. Just the two of them, fucking, often. Without Elizabeth or Lilah.

On and on he drove his hand, grasping tighter to increase the pressure, causing that bite of pain he needed to finish himself off. He tried to dismiss her eyes, tried to let Alexander alone consume him, but it was pointless. She was still there. He could hear her voice. ‘Fuck me like you mean it.’

He would have fucked her in every damn hole she had. Brutally. He’d have loved her, adored her, made love to her, given her the fucking world had she not fucked Alexander, too. He would even have given her that in time, shared her when they were consummated more succinctly.


The water sluiced around his face, feeding him with hot tears of destruction as he finally felt his morbid expulsion race through him to exit. He quickened his pace again, feeling his legs burning with the struggle to remain upright as he yanked ferociously, flicking and grunting with the effort as he leant his forehead against the tiles. Fucking man. Fucking woman. No more would he let her in, no matter how far she probed and pushed. This would be the last expulsion of her. She would not break into him again. He groaned as it shot from him and grabbed his balls, twisting them to cause more pain and letting the sentiment garner itself inside as his knees gave way beneath him. He would remember this last time, remember its effect on his body and soul. Let it cleanse him of her power over his mind. Only one would have that power over him from now on. Alexander. Just Alexander.

Silence settled around him. There was only the delicate falling of the water and his panting beneath it. The last of Lilah was gone, driven out and discarded. He would simply use her to find his daughter. No more. Why her eyes were still so prevalent within the small space was unknown. He opened his own and stared at the cream tiles, watching the water tumble down its surface through the circulating steam as he continued stroking himself. Up and down, his grip was less tense now that he’d rid himself of the inevitable. He massaged his cock again, letting the water rinse away any last trace of his come, making certain every last drop was tossed down into the drains, where it belonged, along with his soul.

“Omm?” His head spun round, and he glared at the door to the bathroom. Thankfully, the boy had not dared encroach on the marble area. He closed his eyes at the intrusion, sighing as he raised himself to his feet and turned the shower down to a more palatable level. Hopefully, if he ignored the boy he would disappear and just give him five minutes to think. Alone. “Omm, I cannot find the suit.” He rolled his eyes and finished his quest to cleanse, then switched the shower off and grasped a towel to wrap around his waist. Some levels of decency were required around family. Thomas’ eyes widened somewhat as he walked out into the suite, enough so that he looked down at himself to see why.

“Is there an issue I should be aware of?” he asked, scanning his frame and finding nothing unusual.

“No, it’s just… You’re fitter than I thought. And what are those scars?”

“None of your business,” he grumbled, crossing to find the suit for the boy, also pulling another of his most regal outfits out.

“How do you stay so fit? Most men your age are–” the boy began. Pascal turned sharply and raised a brow. Age was not to be discussed under any circumstance. It was enough to halt the boy’s mouth in its tracks.

“I fuck, Thomas. There is much fucking. Strenuously so.”

“Oh.” Oh, indeed. Fucking child.

By Charlotte E Hart on Twitter @CharlotteEHart1

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