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Date	By : Meghan Category: Anita Blake > Het Views: 3255 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Anita Blake series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Date
- 1
Title: Date
Author: Meghan
Email: meghanreviews@yahoo.com

Summary: Anita and Jean-Claude go on a date. Post ID.
Rating: NC17
Pairing: JC/Anita

Dedication: To BeEG for my deliciously sexy JC with only a bow for decoration drawing.
AN: Thank you to my lovely betas! Hugs! You guys are the best!

Disclaimer: I have no association with either LKH or the ABVH series.

Feedback: Yes, please.
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Jean-Claude had told me to meet him here at Charlie Giotto’s on the Hill, an expensive restaurant in St. Louis. He’d said that I should wear something slinky to dance in later. It meant a lot of work hiding my Firestar, but I managed to do so sufficiently with my bellyband. Nobody would be able to notice the slight bulge unless they were looking. I was wearing killer red high heels that made my legs look longer. If you weren’t confident you wouldn’t be able to walk in these heels.

I knew I looked great. I should, considering I spent four and a half hours in the hair saloon for this date. My hair was fabulous, the curls controlled to flow in smooth, even layers all around my head. My nails were freshly manicured in the first time since--well--the last time I read a Cosmo. In other words, forever. My toes have received the benefits of a pedicure too. I had a pushup bra lifting my cleavage up to fill out the top of the little dress. My lips were a perfect matching shade of the red on the dress. Red is my best color, other than black, because of my dark near-black hair and pale skin. In short, tonight I was gorgeous. I hope Jean-Claude appreciated the effort. In sexual favors.

The maitre d’ only gave a brief glance at the scars covering my bare arms before he led me through the tables to a secluded booth in the back. My heart leapt into my throat at the sight that presented itself to me. Jean-Claude was looking more perfectly lickable than usual, with long black hair curling softly over a cerulean silk shirt tucked into skintight black pants with knee high black leather boots to match. I think I swallowed my tongue. When the maitre d’ left, I groped for my chair and slid in.

“You look--” I said, waving my hand at his person, unable to think of anything that could describe his beauty.

“Trés magnifique, ma petite. Did you do this for me?”

“I was going to go for fuckable,” I managed weakly, putting my purse on the left side of the table.

Jean-Claude grinned, fangs flashing in pleasure. “As are you, ma petite.”

“Not compared to you,” I replied accusingly.

Never date a man more gorgeous than you. It does nothing for a girl’s vanity.

He countered, “Not true, ma petite. You look splendid. I regret making plans for going out after dinner. I’d rather stay inside in bed with you.”

Did I say it did nothing for a girl’s vanity? I meant to say it did nothing for a girl’s raging hormones.

“Want to skip dinner?” I offered, gazing lustily at him.

He shook his head, his hair twirling softly around his neck, distracting me with its hypnotic motion as he said firmly, “Non, you need to eat something. You know what happens when you don’t eat.”

“You know what happens if I don’t feed other things too,” I returned, my eyes darkening to match the husky note in my voice.

Jean-Claude laughed wickedly, sending shivers down my spine, and handed me a menu. “No more tempting offers, ma petite. Let’s decide what to order.”

I pouted as I opened the menu to look at the selections. Would Jean-Claude want to order an appetizer? Would I be able to eat it, is the question. I had a craving for lasagna, chicken, and caffeine. And something chocolaty, now that I think about it.

“What do you think about quail, ma petite?” Jean-Claude asked, perusing the menu. “I used to love quail meat.”

I tried hard not to make a face. Eeww. “You want me to eat a cute little bird?”

He raised his eyes from what he’d been reading, arched his eyebrows, and folded his wrists over the plastic edge of the menu. “You would eat a chicken. Is that not a cute little bird as well?”

“But chicken is different.”

“How so?”

“It’s not small game, and I don’t think of chicken like that.”

“Ma petite, are you saying you want chicken tonight?”

This time I pulled a face. “Not anymore.”

Jean-Claude laughed, and I knew I was the butt of a joke, but I didn’t mind. His power tickled up and down my spine and I felt drunk. I shook my head at him and smiled dopily for a second before controlling myself.

“What about a steak like the last time we came here? That was really good.”

The rapturous expression on his face was more than enough to attest that statement.

“I don’t want to eat anything raw tonight.”

His face fell and I could almost kick myself, but I knew he was pulling this face to make me feel guilty and concede to his entrée choice. I wasn’t going to cave. Nope. No caving here. See, I’m not caving.

“I want lasagna,” I said with conviction.

“Mais, ma petite--”

I gave him a stern look. “I want red meat sauce and pasta.”

He sighed at me and lounged back in his chair. “What do I get tonight? I know you do not like wine, ma petite.”

I would regret this, but I offered anyway. “You can pick the dessert.”

His face lit up and I knew I was doomed to something that would add fleshy pillows to my waistline. I would need to run longer with Micah tomorrow morning if I had any hopes of getting rid of them. I saw him whip open the menu again and scroll through it with an almost gleeful expression.

The waiter came up to us and asked if we were ready to order. Jean-Claude took care of ordering what we had agreed upon but saved ordering the dessert until later. I wondered then what sinful delicacy he’d decided on. I’m sure I was going to love it and would end up eating every last swirl of chocolate without his prompting. Hello fatty chocolaty goodness, you were worth it.

“So how are things at Animators Inc.?” Jean-Claude asked conversationally.

I shrugged, accepting the glass of coke when the waiter brought it to me. “Bert’s got cranky pants. I told a client no today.”

“Pourquoi?”

“The guy offered three million dollars to raise a two hundred year old corpse.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You can do that easily, though.”

“It was George Washington.”

“Ah,” Jean-Claude said knowingly and he did know. Know the way I am with certain requests.

“Bert blew a gasket. He can‘t believe I let three million dollars walk out.”

He chuckled. “I can imagine, but at least it wasn’t another Marilyn Monroe.”

“People can be such skeazes.”

“Skeazes?”

“Cross between sleazes and skanks,” I elaborated.

He tilted his head back digesting this new bit of American slang. “Ah, bien sûr.”

“How was your day?”

He took my hand in his and turned it over so that it was palm up in his hand. His fingers traced over mine lightly as he talked. “It was a fairly good day today, ma petite. Business, according to Asher, is doing better than usual. If it keeps up we’re thinking of starting a new club. Perhaps something geared more towards theater. Thank you again, ma petite, for the use of your pomme de sang tonight.”

“You are more than welcome,” I murmured stroking his fingers as I spoke. “Speaking of pomme de sangs, has Jason called you yet?”

“Oui, his stepfather is doing much better,” Jean-Claude replied before sitting back and declaring, “Ah ha, here comes our dinner.”

“That’s good to hear,” I said taking a deep breath as the waiter placed the meal before me. “This smells great.”

“Merci,” Jean-Claude told the man as he politely backed away.

“You’re welcome, sir.”

I eagerly cut into the lasagna, practically inhaling the first bite. Oh this was good, I thought, looking up to see Jean-Claude’s reaction. He had a pained expression on his face. I swallowed quickly.

“What? Do you not like it?”

“You ate it too fast for me to taste and you’re mental shields are still in place.”

“Oh, damn. I’m sorry, Jean-Claude,” I apologized lifting another forkful to my mouth.

As I placed it on my tongue I dropped the shields and his face changed dramatically. At first it was as if he’d been stunned, which was quite comical in itself, but then his eyes rolled back into his head and he moaned. Desire stirred in response in my tummy.

When Jean-Claude opened his eyes again there was a dreamy quality in them like he couldn’t believe lasagna tasted like that. It was good, but I wasn’t sure it deserved that nearly orgasmic expression. I wanted that expression on his face because of me, not because of the food.

He purred in pleasure when I took another bite and I grew wet. Watching him taste food was an experience that gets me every time. I didn’t want food anymore, not that I really did at the start of this course, because I could seriously make him a meal right now. He groaned in ecstasy and I squirmed in my seat, hastily reaching for my soda and gulping it down.

If Jean-Claude didn’t stop that blissful gurgling right this second my ardeur was going to rise with a vengeance. When it did I was going to strip him naked and have crazy-sweaty-messy sex with him on the table, patrons be damned. He purred again and I shot him a look. The smug expression on his face told me he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

In retaliation I sprinkled parmesan cheese over the remaining half and took another mouthful of lasagna, enjoying my victory spoils as he nearly died on the spot. I grinned at the openness on his face and he smiled back. Eating was sheer heaven to Jean-Claude and one of the few things I enjoyed from the marks that bound us together without hesitation or regret. What would I give to hand feed him in bed? Oh, bad thoughts, Anita, you shouldn’t go there.

“Ma petite, the lasagna is simply divine,” he groaned appreciatively as I took another forkful, chewing slowly before swallowing.

His voice was doing what it does best. Seduction in every husky syllable. All too soon the entrée was over and his little rasping moans had stopped. My nipples were tight, pushing at the fabric of my little red number as Jean-Claude licked his lips. The waiter was signaled and the dishes were cleared. Now was the time to order dessert.

“A slice red velvet cake,” Jean-Claude intoned softly, giving me a smoldering glance that could have started forest fires.

“Oh, no,” I moaned, covering my mouth for a second before dropping my hand.

“Oh, yes.”

Sighing, I acquiesced. “Very well.”

He took my hand in his again and brought it to his mouth, where he placed a soft kiss on the back of it. “Ma petite, you need not worry about your beautiful figure. The activities we will do tonight will surely burn off any calories you think would be detrimental to your appearance.”

“Is that a fact?” I murmured, slipping my foot out of my shoe before rubbing it against his leg.

Jean-Claude leaned forward, a lock of black hair falling over his left eye. “Those calories don’t stand a chance,” he said roughly, capturing my foot between his knees.

My heart leapt in my throat where I fought to swallow it back down. Just as I was about to say something in return the slice of cake was placed in front of me. Jean-Claude’s head flopped onto his arm, his eyes glazed over and his lips parted.

“Savor the first bite, ma petite, s’il vous plait,” he rumbled softly, his sapphire eyes bouncing between the bite I had placed on my fork and my mouth.

He licked his lips, waiting in suspense as I wrapped my lips around it and plucked it off the tongs. His groan of satisfaction made my knees go weak. Apparently his knees went weak too because he let go of my foot. Quickly I wiggled it to it’s new resting place against his crotch, where a very hard erection pressed back against my sole.

“Let’s skip dancing,” I said conversationally, plucking another mouthful off the fork, chewing slowly.

Jean-Claude grunted, rotating his head against his elbow his eyes closed. He looked so adorable sitting there, I thought, pressing my foot against him softly. I ate another bite, curling my toes against the bulge. He purred, trailing a hand beneath the table cloth and captured my foot in a loose grasp. He wiggled each toe between his long slender fingers before holding it firmly against him while he did a little shimmy.

“But I so wanted to do the wicked dance with you, ma petite,” he said silkily, pushing back against my sole with another undulation.

Oh gracious!

I scraped the plate, picking up the crumbs. “I am amenable to that type of dancing.”

His tongue lulled out of his mouth slightly before he retracted it swiftly. I laughed at him, chasing the errant smudges of icing and cake around the plate. I ate it much faster than I thought I would. I didn’t notice because I had been watching all of the minute and not so minute reactions passing over his face. He really was engrossing when he behaved like that.

“Get the bill,” I commanded, taking my foot away and shoving it back into its shoe.

I was done with the foreplay. Next time he wants me to eat for him he’s going to be naked in a tub filled with warm bath water and bubbles. Or stripped and tied naked between the bedposts while I licked chocolate from him. My thighs clenched at the thought. Oh boy, that sounded good.

He laughed, scooting the chair back and signaling the waiter. He knew just how ready I was with his enhanced vampire senses. Within ten minutes we’d paid, retrieved our coats, and left, exiting out into the crisp spring night.

Jean-Claude looked around, shrugging on his coat. “Where’s your car, ma petite?”

“In the carport,” I told him with an easy smile as I straightened his collar. “Very dashing.”

Too dashing, I thought, my mouth dry. I felt like I was going to combust on the spot. We couldn’t get to my car fast enough.

He held out my coat for me, which I took out of his hands and slipped on. He held up his hands in surrender, shooting me a mock glare. I rolled my eyes at him, grabbing one of his hands and pulling him along behind me.

“All right, all right, I give up. I won’t even pretend to shower you with chivalry, not even on occasion, ma petite.”

“Good,” I shot back, flashing him a cocky grin. “Now let’s get back to the Circus.”

“And bypass the rest of the evening?” Jean-Claude queried, sweeping along behind me gracefully.

I looked over my shoulder to see him staring fixedly at my derriere. Returning his lusty gaze with one of my own, I tugged him forward. He wrapped an arm around my waist as we walked the last couple of yards to my car.

He did that thing with his voice again, so that it poured like warm syrup over me. As a result I collided into him. He righted me before pushing me gently towards my side of the car. I fumbled for the keys, hitting the lock button twice before slipping into the driver’s seat.

I turned on the car and clicked the seatbelt into place as Jean-Claude did the same, securing the seatbelt and shifting forward. Fifteen minutes later and we were pulling into the Circus’ employee parking lot. Jean-Claude slid out and leapt onto the back steps. He pushed open the door just as I reached him.

“After you, ma petite,” he said silkily.

“I thought you said you were going to stop with the chivalry, Jean-Claude,” I said, glaring at him from the step below.

He shrugged, the curve of his shoulders shifting up a little before dipping back down. “Old habit.”

“Curb it.”

“As you wish, ma petite.”

“I wish for you to get your cute butt inside,” I replied, leaning up to steal a quick kiss to hold me over until we got to his suite.

Bad, bad move. Now what was bordering on desperation really was desperation. I was too hot and too cold all at once. Jean-Claude has the ability to make me go crazy with lust, but this was a bit more than that. I didn’t want him, I needed him. A subtle difference, but a difference all the same.

He kicked the door closed and progressed swiftly down the flight of stairs, following me into his elegant lair. And it was elegant; he’d changed the color scheme once again because of past accusations from myself that he never did anything but black and white. The velvet draperies were forest green with a long golden fabric that hung in soft waves along the top of the main room. Gold and green candles littered the mantle.

Even the painting of Jean-Claude, Asher, and Julianna had been switched out. Now there was one of just himself and Asher all dressed up in the stunning outfits that I once said made them look like the moon and sun. I could tell it was a recently commissioned painting because Asher’s golden hair had been tucked behind his ears, revealing the beautiful rippling scars that trailed over the right side of his face. I only had Jean-Claude’s memories of what he looked like without the holy water scars. I think they suit him, he would have been too perfect otherwise. Unreal.

“When did you have time to pose for a painting, Jean-Claude?” I asked, awed at the incredible talent in the artwork. Both of my vampires looked so alive, so content with life.

“We wanted to surprise you, ma petite,” he replied softly, his voice rumbling from behind me as he walked up and cupped my shoulders, drawing me back against his chest.

“It’s beautiful, Jean-Claude,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around my waist and sinking back against him.

“Indeed,” he agreed, caressing my collarbone.

From the inflections in his voice, I knew that this painting meant a lot to him. It signaled the rebuilding of his and Asher’s relationship. That a love wasn’t ruined because of the past. It only took them two hundred years to get there. I was happy for him. Them. Us. As in the three of us.

Facing him, I cup his cheek tenderly, looking up into his unwavering deep blue gaze. “I’m happy for you two,” I murmured, stretching up on tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

His eyes held a soft contemplating look, one that was just a tad short of surprised. I didn’t like that look because it made me uncomfortably aware that I just a short while ago I might have held it against the two of them if it was more than just a mending of friendship. I didn’t like this burning feeling that resided in my gut.

“Come, ma petite,” Jean-Claude said in a lulling voice, the look replaced by a smoldering, lusty, I-want-to-see-you-without-your-clothes one as he stepped away, his hands pulling me softly towards him.

I followed him quietly out of the room and into the corridor that led to his private chambers. When we had shut the door behind us, he stilled and I quickly closed the gap between us. His fingers wove through mine before he raised our hands straight out from our sides and leaned in for an excruciatingly unhurried chaste kiss on the lips. I tried to pull my hands free but he firmly retained his grip keeping me from weaving my fingers through his hair.

Underneath his mouth I parted my lips, urging him to deepen the kiss, but he held back, refusing to rush. His grip tightened as I titled my head up in offering, my body arching against his own so that my breasts brushed tantalizingly over his chest. His lips parted on a gusty sigh and I eagerly took advantage of that weakness, parting them further with my tongue, easing my way inside his mouth. Our tongues tangled gently and I sighed, rubbing my tingling nipples over his sculpted torso.

He brought our hands between our bodies. He hooked my thumbs around his and shifted his grasp away from my fingers so he could cup my breasts through the red dress’ material. My breath rushed out through my nose, fanning against his cheek as he pressed them high and together with our hands. I cupped the back of his hands, pressing them more solidly against the rising peaks. I rubbed against his palms and a rumbling noise vibrated through his chest, raising the hairs on my arms

The kiss shifted from his mouth to mine as he stepped closer, positioning his body between my legs. I could feel the heavy weight of his erection press into my belly. My breath sharpened at the feel of his need, the evidence of his desire. Jean-Claude slid his hands out from under my own, moving them up to my face, and suddenly I was holding my breasts alone.

“Rub your nipples for me, ma petite,” he whispered against my lips, kissing me hungrily.

I complied, rubbing the aching peaks through the material of my dress. I pressed my breasts high, griping them in both of my hands, thumbs and fingers rolling the tight nipples as we kissed. Jean-Claude’s fingers shifted into my hair as he shifted his hips in tiny motions from side to side. My breath hitched sharply at the feel of his jutting erection.

The kiss shifted again as we moved our mouths apart but still kept contact with skin. He bent to suckle my neck and I nibbled on his earlobe, blowing hotly into the cool pink shell. Jean-Claude shuddered in my embrace, rubbed his arousal against my tummy harder, and suckled more insistently on my throat.

His hands gripped my hair tighter, almost to the point of pain. I raked my nails down the back of his neck, licking his temple. A soft rumble escaped his throat at my actions. Jean-Claude pulled away, separating us by a good four inches. I protested softly.

“Patience, ma petite,” Jean-Claude chided lightly, bringing his hands up to his chest and deftly flicking the buttons apart, revealing one mouth watering inch at a time.

I felt the ardeur shimmering just below the surface, eager and waiting to spill out over my skin.

Jean-Claude paused with two buttons left to go glancing up at me sternly. “Control, ma petite. Exercise it. Your ardeur is too close to the surface.”

I nodded twice, unsure of my ability to speak. I focused myself, willing the ardeur back down with promises to fulfill it soon. It went away reluctantly, as if hoping if allowed to stay it might make this vampire before me shed his clothes faster. When the last bit of prickling power was swallowed back inside me, Jean-Claude smiled and finished undoing the last of the buttons, shedding the shirt with one smooth roll of his shoulders.

He placed it gently over the back of the chair on the right side of the bed. “Trés bien, ma petite.”

He seemed to be unaware of all the glorious alabaster skin that he just recently revealed. My libido sure noticed. It jumped up and down with unmitigated glee. I felt arousal pool in my belly, in anticipatory excitement.

Jean-Claude gripped the end of his belt, sliding it slowly through the buckle. His sapphire eyes watched me, gauging my reaction to his strip tease. And what a reaction--I was biting my lip so hard I drew blood. His nostrils flared and the belt was ripped free of the loops. I grinned at his own telltale reaction.

I fumbled for the hem of the dress and drew it up over my body. Pulling my arms free, I whipped it over my head and tossed it aside, followed by my bra and bellyband. He growled, opening his fly and shoving his pants down over his hips, leaving him totally nude. I stalked over to him in my underwear and tugged him close.

His skin was so cool, I shivered at the contact. One hand fisted in his waist length hair, wrapping around those ebony curls that stood out in stark contrast to his skin. The other curved around his hip possessively and pulled him flush against me, a welcome relieve for my heated skin. I sighed in pleasure when Jean-Claude captured my lips to suckle on my lower lip, drawing it into his mouth, worrying it between his teeth.

The muscles of his back rippled as he enfolded his arms around me. My nails bit into his flesh, finding the purchase I needed for balance so I could stand on tiptoes. I kissed his chin, suckling on the pointed end as I wrapped my arms around his neck. Leaning against his chest for support, I voraciously turn my attentions to his neck.

Jean-Claude’s neck is a highly sensitive erogenous zone, one I’ve discovered months ago and exploit a lot. The sounds he makes when I lick, bite, and suckle are deliciously vulnerable. He knows I get a kick from this, that his own helpless moans build wild fires between my legs.

“Do all vampires respond this readily to attentions on their necks, or just you?” I teased, running a hand down his chest.

“Asher is not particularly fond of it,” Jean-Claude mused, tilting his head away to give me better access. “He got delirious when you focused on his sides just above his hips.”

“Mm-mm?”

He sighed, dropping his hand to my derriere, resting is above the gentle swells. “Don’t get me wrong, a lot of vampires find it erotic, ma petite, but I’ve responded this way since before my turning.”

I breathed hotly against his neck for a moment before leaning back to look him in the eyes. “I think it’s incredibly sexy that you respond that way, Jean-Claude.”

His fingers slipped beneath my panties and yanked them down. Lifting my legs, I withdrew my feet one foot at a time. A lock of hair fell in front of his face and I gently tuck it back. He was so unbelievably beautiful.

Jean-Claude’s eyes captured mine and I felt myself falling. If I didn’t know that he couldn’t seize my mind and roll it under his powers, I might have thought he was trying to do so. My hands swept along his jaw line into his hair as I brought myself closer to his mouth. Short erratic breaths puffed against him. Our eyes never broke contact when my lips pressed against his or during the slow exploration that followed. My heart was thrumming loudly in my ears when we pulled back.

“I love you,” I whispered tenderly, leading him to the bed.

A mischievous grin blossomed into existence as Jean-Claude maneuvered himself between my legs. His fingers curled in my waist-length hair as his mouth attacked mine, devouring me. He shifted his stance and suddenly we were toppling over backwards. I let out a shriek of surprise, glowering when he chuckled down at me.

“Je t’aime aussi, ma petite!” Jean-Claude declared happily, raining kisses all along my nose and cheeks.

Jean-Claude nuzzled his nose against mine before capturing my mouth with his in a hot swift kiss. It was frustrating! I wanted more! Then as cool as you please, just as my irritation was mounting, he dipped his head and nibbled a trail from my throat to my breasts. His tongue broadened, lapping roughly against the smooth skin, and I cried out reaching for the sheets, holding them tightly in my grasp.

My nipples hardened under his attentions and he moaned in appreciation. I was mindless. Reality was focused on two things: Jean-Claude who was nipping and licking against one peak while rubbing and twisting the other between his fingers, and the sheet clenched in my hands. Desire pooled between my thighs. I was hot and ready. More than ready.

I couldn’t wait another minute, I wanted him inside me right this very now!

“Less foreplay,” I gasped, titling my hips upward, rubbing against his turgid length.

Jean-Claude looked up from where he’d been suckling on the other nipple, letting it go with a soft wet plop. His eyes danced merrily down at me before blowing a cool breath of air onto the recently abandoned peak.

“Ahhrrrugh,” I groaned, tossing my head against the pillow, my hips thrusting of their own accord.

He laughed delightedly, sitting on his haunches and running a palm from breast to thigh and back again.

“You are impatient tonight, ma petite,” Jean-Claude commented, lips quirking as he wrapped his hand around his cock and pumped.

I quivered in response. My hands let go of their death grip on the sheets and reached out for him. I ran them lightly over his buttocks before curving around to softly trail my fingers along the sensitive flesh where his legs connected to his torso. He shuddered, pumping faster.

Encouraged, I leaned up and licked his hard nipple, scrapping it with my teeth. At his guttural groan I smiled. Mimicking what he’d done to me earlier, I suckled on one stiff peak while playing with the other, scratching it with my nail and tugging at it, stretching it out, then releasing it. A soft rumble left his throat as he dropped his head forward to my shoulder. His hair surrounded us, a living blanket. He licked the sweat off from my collarbone, slipping his hand underneath my hair to close around my nape.

“Hmmm,” he purred, when I switched over to the other tight peak.

“Jean-Claude,” I panted softly against the moistened nipple, watching it contract.

On an intake of breath he replied, “Yes, ma petite?”

I touched the hand still pumping over his arousal. His hand stilled, waiting for me to continue. Shifting positions so that I sat on top of Jean-Claude’s lap, I guided his cock to my dripping entrance. “Fill me. Now.”

“Certainly.”

In one fluid motion Jean-Claude sheathed himself inside me.

“Eauhh,” I exhaled sharply, rolling against him.

The ardeur swelled, crashing through my barriers. Jean-Claude shouted in surprise as his flared to life in response. He stilled inside his movements immediately. His eyes shut tight as his body trembled under a sheen of sweat.

“What happened to your control, ma petite?” he demanded harshly, unable to stop the rocking of his hips.

I gasped at the feeling, back arching, nails digging into the flesh of his sides.

His struggle was visible; even his eyes were glowing bright sapphire with the power. “Well?”

“You happened to it,” I returned, panting.

Clutching his hips, I pull myself further onto him until he was as deep inside me as he could get.

“Ma petite,” Jean-Claude growled, head falling forward. “You are not helping.”

“I am helping,” I countered, raising up and slamming back down.

“You are under the influence of th-”

“Fuck me!” I screamed, thrusting against him, the ardeur crashing through us like a single shared breath.

He flashed a grin that was more grimace than smile. “Certainly.”

In seconds I was on my back with Jean-Claude thrusting over me. I could feel his heart beating frantically, feel the sweat on his skin, feel through his senses what it felt like to be held between my thighs. The ardeur opened up our senses, exposing us to each other in a way I didn’t know it could.

His fingers plucked and pulled on my nipples and I yelled out, only to have him thrust his tongue inside my mouth. I ran my hands over his stomach and chest, pleasure assaulting me twice over from the combined sensations of our senses.

Jean-Claude surged into me, pounding wildly, control shot to smithereens. It was perfection. His thumb pressed against my clitoris, slick from my juices. I bit his lip, holding back a shriek as he continued to play with the bundle of nerves. He smirked against my lips, drawing circles on the roof of my mouth.

His balls tightened; he was going to come. Knowing this spiked my own arousal and the pressure on my clitoris grew. Jean-Claude angled his hips, rubbing against my walls redoubling his efforts.

“Oh yes! Oh yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

He ripped his mouth away, coming with a loud, “Ma petite!“ His pelvis pistoning wildly, bumping against my own. He pinched my clit, triggering my own explosion, and I keened, gushing. The ardeur roared, feeding itself into silence.

My heart was pounding, my nerves tingling, my core throbbing, fluttering gently around his softening girth. I was boneless, slumping against the mattress. His breath beat against my ear as he settled his weight over me comfortably. We fell asleep that way before waking a little over an hour later.

Jean-Claude woke first, licking the shell of my ear and nipping tenderly at the lobe. He sensed quickly when I awoke but didn’t stop the gentle caresses.

“Je pense c'est le temps pour un bain,” Jean-Claude said with a chuckle, sitting up.

I nodded, stretching. “Mmmkay.”

He held out a hand for me to grab onto and use as leverage to sit up. Gladly accepting his offer, I sat up and swung my legs over the bed. He got up and entered into the bathroom, flipping on the light switch while I slowly padded along behind him.

“I never felt the ardeur that way before,” I said, leaning against the door jam watching as he filled up the tub.

“It responded to our intimacy.”

“You don’t just mean the sex do you?” I asked.

“Non, it was not just the sex it fed on tonight.”

He sat on the tub, arms folded over his chest, regarding me and my reaction. I smiled, blinking away the remnants of sleepers. Jean-Claude relaxed visibly when I didn’t yell at him. He’s still worried about me blaming him for things. Tonight was beyond anything I expected; it was fantastic.

Tilting my head, I asked, “Will it do this every time?”

He shrugged, a dark curl falling across his cheek. “It is quite possible. It took me by surprise tonight, ma petite.”

“So I noticed,” I returned, walking over to the bathtub and testing the water.

“I am sorry--”

“I’m not.”

“Vraiment?”

I faced him, tucking back the errant strand of hair. “Really, really.” I leaned over and kissed him, exploring the inner recesses of his irresistible mouth. “It was unbelievable.”

Jean-Claude grinned, shifting the kiss to my mouth, his hands hovering just above the skin of my jaw. “It was. You should try the other vampire powers I possess, if you liked that one so much,” he teased.

“Is now good?” I breathed, nibbling on his lips.

His laugh echoed off the tile walls in the bathroom, setting of waves of desire that raced through my blood. “There is simply not enough time for that, ma petite, but we could try for a repeat.”

My hands settled on his thighs as I swayed in response to his voice. “I could go for that.”

Jean-Claude exhaled, “Bon.”

The End.
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