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Consequences	By : Sabriel0405 Category: Anita Blake > Het Views: 4737 -:- 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
- 12
- 13
- 14
Chapter 13

Christmas Eve day was cold and crisp and bright. Ice crystals crunched under my feet when I stepped onto the deck. It was going to be a long day. I wasn’t scheduled to go over to the Circus until early evening and it was only ten o’clock in the morning. Too bad there was no one to shoot. Shooting someone would have taken the edge off my nervous energy. I decided to go for a run. I thought about calling Ronnie, I really did. Then realized that I wasn’t ready for that conversation. I couldn’t tell her I was pregnant, not when she still hated Jean-Claude. It wasn’t as though the two things were connected, but the truth was that I was connected to Jean-Claude until death do us part. Hell, my connection to Micah ran almost as permanent. If she pressed me too hard, it would be the end of our friendship. At least with silence I can pretend she’s still my best friend.

It didn’t help that I had followed Jean-Claude’s instructions. I had fed the ardeur. I couldn’t avoid it. But they had not beenly sly satisfying feedings. I could feel it roiling under the surface, like my beast. I definitely needed a run.

I changed into running clothes and opened the bedroom door. Merle stood right outside, also dressed in running gear. “I thought I would join you,” he said. This should be fun, I thought.

“Why?” I asked.

“You are my Nimir-Ra,” he said.

“It won’t be a satisfying workout for you,” I warned. He was far taller than Ronnie, not to mention all around bigger.

“That isn’t the point.”

I decided not to argue. Maybe I was growing up at last; not everything needed to be an argument or even a question. So we went outside and ran. Merle was a quiet companion. I knew he had begun to respect me, but he was still Micah’s man. I didn’t have a problem with that. I could take care of myself. Actually, Micah could take care of himself as well but Merle was good insurance.

I ran for a good long time. Merle kept pace with me but didn’t try to break my concentration. By the time I got back, it was lunchtime and I was suitably tired. The shower was a good pick me up but I still had too many hours to kill. I grabbed some leftovers including the cut-up vegetables Cherry had left with my name on them. I made fresh decaf. It wasn’t the same but I would take what I could get. Where the hell was everybody? Even Merle hadappeappeared.

Ordinarily, I’d be at work but Bert decided that it didn’t make sense to keep the office open on Christmas Eve. It wasn’t just that the mood was too festive for zombie raising, it’s just that thimatimators weren’t required for gift certificate purchases. I expected January to be far busier than the cold would otherwise merit. We were definitely living in interesting times.

I wandered around the living room, looking at the tree, shaking a few of the gifts with my name on it. I felt like a child. For just a few moments, I believed. We had made paper chains last night and they decorated the walls with bright colors. I felt him before I saw him. Micah. He came up behind me and pulled me, gently, into his body before kissing the back of my neck. I shivered.

“We can’t do this,” I reminded him.

“We aren’t doing anything. I just thought you might want company,” he said. His hands stroked my arms. Heat rose and I forced myself to break away.

“Micah, I’m on edge as it is!” I said. He laughed. I punched him. He laughed again.

“Come on, let’s take a nap,” he suggested and pulled me toward the bedroom.

I wasn’t tired. Nervous but not tired. Nevertheless, I slipped on a t-shirt and got under the covers. He wrapped himself around me and began a gentle massage on my neck and shoulders. His hands were firm and sure against my skin and I thought once again about the unreality of this man. He came into my life with no warning and had asked only that I remain his lover and share our pards. He was too good to be true and it scared me. He hadn’t even batted an eye about the baby.

“You’re too tense,” he said.

“Thanks for telling me. I couldn’t havessedssed on my own.” Yup, sarcastic and grumbling. Maybe I was feeling okay after all. Micah chuckled.

“I know you aren’t going to get a lot of sleep tonight, but don’t come home too late tomorrow morning. We won’t open presents without you and there are too many of us behaving like excited kids. I don’t want to have to exercise my authority.”

I didn’t say anything because he was right. We were quiet for a while. His hands on my body were comforting rather than arousing. I drifted into the dream-like state of semi-consciousness and finally into unconsciousness.

Micah shook me lightly. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and looked at the clock. It was late afternoon. The sun was setting, casting shadows in the bedroom. He kissed me lightly and told me that dinner would be ready by the time I got dressed. I hoped that whatever they were making would stay warm while I tried on the contents of my wardrobe. As he walked out of the bedroom he said, “Oh, Jean-Claude sent over something for you to wear tonight. It’s hanging in the closet.”

I didn’t know whether to be excited or nervous. As far as I knew, I was going over to the Circus to celebrate the season and have sizzling monkey sex with the two hottest vampires in St. Louis, if not on Earth. What did one wear for a night of wicked abandonment? I opened the closet with some trepidation and promptly gasped. It was a dress, short and flowy, probably in silk. It was deep emerald green and matched the pendant I bought him. I slipped it on. It was comfy and had enough fabric that I could wear the bellyband easily. The dress was sleeveless, but the straps on my shoulders were wide enough that I could wear a bra. The neckline plunged low but had lots of fabric flounces. It was so unlike Jean-Claude to provide something without leather. It felt good, the silk kissing my skin with every movement of my body

As for dinner. We were having a real Christmas dinner here tomorrow. I didn’t know who was cooking it. I didn’t ask and, since it wasn’t me, I didn’t care. Jean-Claude had requested a special French menu for me tonight. I promised that I would taste whatever he wanted. It was Christmas after all. But tomorrow afternoon would be a meal with all the trimmings. I wasn’t sure who was coming but every monster and the few humans I knew had been invited.everever realized I had so many friends.

I slipped off the dress and took another shower. Jean-Claude had given me some body oils and I hadn’t used them before. So far, I hadn’t been terribly affected by odors. Heavy perfume bothered me but cooking smells hadn’t mae ile ill and neither had light flowery scents. The oil made my skin glow. When I walked into the dining room, everyone went still. My pard stared at me as though they had never seen me before. And perhaps they hadn’t. Not like this.

“Wow, Anita. You look…,” Zane trailed off, trying to figure out how to describe what he was feeling. I had run hair goop through my hair so my curls were hanging loosely around my face.

“What?” I practically snarled.

“Soft,” Nathaniel said. “You look soft.” The pard nodded in agreement. Even Micah was staring at me with a strange light in his eyes.

Soft was definitely not normal for me. Part of me wanted to bolt back to the bedroom and change. Another part of me, one I don’t listen to very often, liked looking pretty. Pretty in the traditional way, not the Barbie does Bondage image that has become Jean-Claude’s personal trademark.

I wasn’t really hungry, particularly knowing I w I would be eating later, but Cherry was firm when she insisted that I eat something anyway. Someone had sautéed chicken with vegetables and pasta. It was good and I managed a few bites. Most everyone was going to hang out with Stephen and Vivian tonight since Guilty Pleasures was closed. That sounded safe to me. The last thing I wanted was to get a call because one of the pard was in trouble. I was being a little unfair. No one had gotten in trouble since the incident at Narcissn Chn Chains. Nathaniel belonged to me now and everyone followed Micah gladly.

The doorbell rang, which startled me. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Zane answered it and brought Jason into the room. “What are you doing here?” I asked. It came out a little harsher than I’d intended.

“Jean-Claude thought it made more sense if I played chauffer because I am spending Christmas with you tomorrow. I’m not working tonight, so it isn’t as though I had other plans.” He looked me up and down. “Wow, Anita, you look, wow,” he said.

“Thanks, I think,” I said, shaking my head. It did make sense for him to do the driving. I had a feeling I’d be pretty shaky in the morning and I couldn’t sleep the day away. “Since yoe spe spending Christmas with us, I’m keeping your presents here. But I could use your help with the others.”

“Okay, this Christmas season is getting way too weird. No arguments?” He turned to Micah, “Did she bitch about the dress?” Micah shook his head, a small smile playing about his lips.

“Enough, already! Just come help me,” I snapped. It took a few trips out to the car to get everything loaded. Some of the gifts were heavy and others merely fragile. I kissed Micah goodbye, touched all the pard members still at the house and got into the car.

Jason and I had a surprisingly companionable ride to the Circus. He told me again how good I looked, and he didn’t leer while doing so. I felt oddly sad that I was the cause of his sudden adulthood. “This is such a different look for you, Anita. Jean-Claude has amazing taste in clothes.”

I didn’t comment on his own leather and fishnet outfit. The long leather coat he wore on top covered his arms so he didn’t freeze. “I thought you weren’t working tonight,” I said.

“I’m not. But I was practicing routines this afternoon since the club was quiet. I have an image to uphold,” he said, grinning. “Jean-Claude called just as I was wrapping up and asked me to pick you up on my way home. It’s going to be an interesting Christmas this year.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, curious.

“I’ve spent the last two years celebrating with Richard’s family. He asked me this year but I turned him down. Until he knows about your, um, condition, and my part in it, I didn’t think it was safe to be around him and his family. Your name would come up. It always does. I know me and I know I’d say something. His mother wouldn’t understand why Richard killed me,” he finished with a grin.

“Good call,” I said, meaning it. Richard in a temper was more dangerous than even an alpha werewolf should be. I was worried for him and about him, but he didn’t want my help.

“Anyway, thanks for inviting me to share it with you. Nathaniel and Gregory have been gleeful lately. You can see it in Nathaniel’s act. There is more genuine bounce. I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s usually so sad beneath on- on-stage image.”

I didn’t have anything to say to that. It was true. Nathaniel had made vast progress from his original persona as pet. But I wasn’t sure if he wanto rio rise above his submissive nature. You can’t force someone to conform to your wishes. Not if those wishes are antithetical to their nature.

Jason pulled into the parking lot and took the space closest to the door. “This might require a couple of trips, even with the two of us. Oh, Jean-Claude wanted me to give you this as soon as we arrived. He must have known he was going to call me because he had tucked it in the glove compartment,” he said, handing me a sealed envelope with an ornate letter A on the front.

I opened the heavy vellum and read, ‘Ma petite, I fear we are not quite ready for you. Damian has volunteered to entertain you in the interim. Joyeux noel’. It was signed with a flourish. “Apparently we don’t have to rush. I just need Damian’s gift for now,” I said.

“Okay, I’ll unload the car and bring the gifts to Jean-Claude’s living room. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a great night!”

Damian’s gift was both heavy and awkward but I made it down the stairs without catching my heels on anything. His door was closed but it opened immediately to my knock. He stared at me for a long moment, almost drinking me with his eyes. He hadn’t fed, which surprised me.

“Why haven’t you fed?” I asked.

“You look lovely tonight, Anita,” he said, ignoring my comment. “Please, come in.” He stood back and let me enter. I put the box down and moved to sit on the bed. He stayed standing. “Would you like something to drink?” He was so polite.

“Damian, what’s going on?” I asked. He wouldn’t turn to face me. “Damn it, Damian. That’s a direct order!”

He whirled around but didn’t try to meet my eyes. “Fine,” he said, “You want a direct response? I don’t think I can keep my hands off you and I know you don’t want that. I didn’t feed yet tonight because I know that at full strength I would try to seduce you. And since I know you haven’t fed, I’d succeed.” He spoke with more passion than I’d expected. I felt a slow flush burn my cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Damian. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to do this to us.” I didn’t know what to say.

He took a visible yet mental step back. “No, I’m sorry. I know you didn’t do this on purpose. I wanted you before you mme yme your servant. Being close to you, touching you, brings me both great pleasure and great torment. But I wouldn’t give it up.” He was still avoiding my eyes but I saw some of the tension release from his body.

“Why don’t you open your present?” I said.

This time he did look at me. “You brought me a present?” He sounded stunned.

“It’s Christmas. Of course I brought you a gift. Did you really think I’d forget about you?”

A smile played across his lips briefly. “It has been a long time since anyone has thought of me in any way but as a tool or perhaps a toy.” His voice was flat when he said the last. I could not imagine what life must have like for him before Jean-Claude ransomed him. What little I had heard made me shudder.

I stood up to get the box but he motioned me to sit down. He stared at the cheerful wrapping and colorful bow for several seconds before tearing it open like a little boy. That made me smile. When he finally got through the packing peanuts to pull out the prize his face lost all expression. He turned the boat around in his hands several times, held it up to look at the underside. He didn’t say anything. Eventually, I had to break the silence.

“If you don’t like it, I’m sure-,”

“No!” he cut me off. “No, I like it very much,” he said, his voice much softer. “It’s just that before She Who Made Me, I had dreamed of owning a boat like this. Of commanding such a vessel. I had almost forgotten.” He raised his head to look at me. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it.”

He laid the carving on his dresser, careful to keep it back from the edge. He opened one of the drawers and pulled out a wrapped box. His eyes met mine again shyly. “I have something for you, too,” he said.

The box was about eight inches long by two inches deep and was heavier than I had expected. The wrapping was a heavy, blood red paper, with gold ribbon. It was almost too pretty to open. I decided to open the gift like a girl and pulled gently at a taped edge. Eventually I pulled off the cover. And gasped. A silver dagger, its handle inlaid with gemstones, gleamed out at me. My head shot up.

“This was yours,” I said. It wasn’t a question.

He nodded. “I thought it would mean more to you than a store bought gift. It’s made for my hand, so it won’t have the balance you’re used to, but I thought you would like it anyway.”

I was stunned. Stunned that he would give me something that clearly meant so much to him. “Thank you,” I said, but it wasn’t enough. “I love it. I can’t believe you would give this to me,” I said, hefting it in my hand. It was heavy but it felt good in my hand. The jewels were real. I wouldn’t, couldn’t use this in the field. I had lost too many knives to take the chance of losing this one. Maybe I’d have it framed for display.

There was a brief knock at the door before it opened and Jean-Claude appeared. “Ma petite, thank you for your patience. All is in readiness.”

I swallowed hard against fear and anticipation and excitement. I went over to Damian and kissed him on the lips. It was soft, the briefest of touches, but he smiled. “Merry Christmas, Damian. You may hunt tonight, if you want.” I lowered my eyes as I said this last. I hated that I was his master, hated that I controlled his very life’s blood. He never hunted except with my permission and I never gave it. There were too many willing donors. But tonight, if he wanted to hunt, I wanted him to have that pleasure. I trusted him to find a suitable victim.

“Good night, Anita,” he said and smiled as he closed the door behind us.

Jean-Claude led the way down the hall giving me a chance to appreciate the view. I was surprised when we went past his room. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“I had a room arranged for the first part of our evening,” he said rather cryptically.

He stopped suddenly and opened a door, motioning me to precede him. I began to but froze just inside the threshold, astounded. It was a Christmas dream. White lights adorned the tree, which was decorated with white snowflakes and gauzy puffs that I assumed were supposed to be clouds. Presents lay scattered underneath. I could see that Jason had added my contributions. A fire roared in the fireplace. The stone walls were no less austere than usual but there were sconces on the walls providing soft light.

The centerpiece of the room was the dining room table. It wasn’t a large one, in fact it probably only seated four. It was set for one. However, there were chairs for two. Jean-Claude had actually asked me for something for Christmas this year. He asked me to eat a meal for him. It wasn’t that we didn’t go out to dinner. He loved to show off the outfits he convinced me to wear. But food was an ongoing source of argument between us. I needed to keep in top condition and if I ate the way he wanted me to, I wouldn’t be able to do that.

But for this night, I gave him total control of the menu. He knew what else was planned, so I didn’t expect him to have me gorge myself. On the other hand, I was a bit apprehensive. Until I started dating him, food was something you ate so wouldn’t die. He’s been educating my palate with extreme reluctance on my part.

“This is beautiful, Jean-Claude.”

“It cannot compare to you, ma petite. That dress is exquisite on you.”

That may or may not have been true. Compared with him, I was definitely the ugly stepsister. He was in black, of course, tight leather pants and a silk shirt that whispered every time he moved. My mouth actually watered at the sight of him.

“Jean-Claude,” I whispered and he was beside me, taking my mouth in a kiss that ignited the ardeur. It was all I could do not to crawl through him with my mouth. He released me with a rush of cold wind that cleared my head.

“Soon, ma petite, soon we will feed all your hungers.” His look was so sensuous that I had to force myself not to throw myself at him. It wasn’t easy. “Please sit so we may begin.”

He didn’t attempt to pull out my chair, which earned him many brownie points. “Where’s Asher?” I scooted closer to the table. A heavy white tablecloth covered the table but my napkin was red with silver edging. The silverware was real silver, judging from its weight. There was a lot of it. Less than at Musette’s banquet but still more than I was comfortable using. There was a glass of chilled water and a Coke. I was impressed that he didn’t bother with a wine glass. On the other hand, I was pregnant, so even if I liked alcohol, it was a no-no. Jean-Claude wheeled a tea-cart closer to the table. It was overflowing with silver-covered serving dishes. I groaned at the thought of all this food.

“Ma petite, I assure you, I have held your preferences at the forefront of my planning. All I require is that you taste what is served.” With a small flourish he took the cover off the first tray and laid it before me. I almost laughed. There were four appetizers on the tray, including French Onion soup, but each portion was no larger than a bite, maybe two. The soup was no more than a few ounces worth. I relaxed immediately. Jean-Claude hadn’t been kidding when he said all he expected was a taste. I did my best to savor each morsel, which wasn’t particularly difficult. The food had been prepared by a master chef. Jean-Claude had originally been sitting in the chair next to me, but after only two bites he moved to a leather couch that I hadn’t noticed. He wanted to have room to relish each flavor. He was truly adorable when he did this and I could see why he hadn’t wanted Asher to join us just yet. It had to be cruel to watch a pleasure that you could no longer experience.

The rest of the meal was just as much fun. Four main courses, four sides, four salads, four desserts. Each in miniature. Jean-Claude kissed the whipped cream from my lips. I was replete but not uncomfortable. We were cuddling on the couch, like any normal couple, when there was a knock on the door. Asher didn’t wait for an answer before entering.

As always, seeing Asher made my heart race. He wasn’t dressed for entertaining. At least not outside the bedroom. His silk robe covered mustard-yellow silk pajamas. Slippers adorned his feet. His spun-gold hair hung loose around his shoulders and he made no move to hide himself. I was glad. I rose to greet him. He took my mouth in a searing kiss. “One of us is overdressed,” I said.

“Why don’t you begin by opening this gift and then we can remedy that situation,” he said, handing me a gaily wrapped box. I tried being gentle with the wrapping but gave in and tore it open. Inside was a lacy peignoir set in an emerald green only a few shades lighter than the pendant I had bought for Jean-Claude. It matched my dress as well. I guess green matched as well with gold as it did with black. I would fit well between my lovers tonight.

Jean-Claude pointed me to the bathroom. I wasted no time in changing. It fit me perfectly. Why was I not surprised? There had been no identifying designer tags. Jean-Claude’s tailor had lifelong job security. Both men were waiting for me when I emerged. Jean-Claude had taken the opportunity to don his blaurreurred robe. I definitely felt like I had just been announced as the dessert course. He pulled me into his lap and nuzzled my neck. I arched into his touch. I knew he was controlling my ardeur but he let that control slip momentarily every now and then to remind me of what the night portended.

Gift opening began in earnest. Asher touched the antiqooksooks reverently and laughed over my contemporary selections. “Ma cherie, I look forward to providing you with a book report when I am finished.”

Jean-Claude opened the jeweler’s box and blinked slowly before raising his eyes to mine. “It is lovely, ma petite.” There was more being said with his eyes but I couldn’t read the message clearly. Buthe she stroked the setting to get the full tactile sensations, I knew he really liked it.

We opened smaller gifts, some silly, some sweet. Wrapping paper was everywhere. Asher had given me another robe, for daily use, still emerald green, but unlike the peignoir, it wasn’t transparent. Jean-Claude handed me a smallish box that was surprisingly heavy. The top came off easily. Nestled inside was a Seecamp. The same style I had borrowed from Edward. I glanced up at him in surprise. He shrugged. “Monsieur Death was most helpful.” The Seecamp felt good in my hands. I loved the Browning but this would fit nicely inside dress clothes. There’s nothing like a thoughtful boyfriend.

The next box was clearly jewelry and I hesitated to open it but couldn’t avoid it. The necklace inside was stunning. Diamonds. And platinum. Lots of both. My mouth opened and closed several times. I felt like a fish. I looked at him in confusion. “Jean-Claude, this is far too valuable. What happens if I lose it?”

He laughed. “If you lose it, ma petite, I will replace it. It does not do your beauty justice but every woman, even a contemporary executioner, should have at least one piece of jewelry that makes her feel beautiful.” He motioned that I should hand him the box, which I did. He took the necklace out and placed it around my neck. I lifted my hair out of the way so he could fasten the clasp.

“Stand up, ma petite, let us see,” he said. I did. The diamonds cascaded down my throat and sparkled even to my own eyes. “You will look exquisite in nothing but those diamonds,” he said. I knew he was asking me to wear the necklace to bed. It sounded decadent and it stirred the ardeur. I let it wash over me and relished the hunger, something I rarely did. Asher stared at me with a need he didn’t bother disguising.

I sat back down and Jean-Claude handed me several boxes that seemingly materialized out of nowhere. The first had the shape of a small shirt box. That should have clued me in. Nonetheless, I was stunned to open it and find baby clothes. Exquisitely designed baby clothes. I was afraid to touch them. Tearlledlled. The next box was bigger and contained toys. Not your off-the-shelf toys, but handcrafted toys. Rag dolls and stuffed animals. Wooden rattles. I couldn’t keep the tears from trickling. Every time I forgot, someone reminded me that I was really having a baby.

Asher reached over and wiped the tears from my cheeks. “There is no need for tears, ma cherie. This is a time for great joy. And great pleasure. Shall we?” he asked and took my hand in his. We rose together and I was almost gful.ful.

He kissed me lightly, a precursor of things to come. Jean-Claude led the way back to his bedroom. The silk sheets were black, the better to showcase their pale, pale skin, the diamonds at my throat, the gold of Asher’s hair. I didn’t know where to begin. It was different the last time. There was a threat. I would have done anything to keep Asher safe. Who would keep me safe?

Jean-Claude spun me in his arms and kissed me as though he were starving and I was not merely the first food he had seen, but I was his favorite meal. His tongue swept my mouth, tasting me, memorizing me. There were other lips against my neck, my back. I barely noticed when the lacy peignoir was eased from my arms, leaving me in the sheer emerald nightgown. Both men had removed their own robes and hands were roaming everywhere, touches gentle but urgent. Jean-Claude had lifted his control over my ardeur and need poured over my body like molten lava making me sluggish with desire.

I didn’t remember getting on the bed. I didn’t remember getting naked. But suddenly I was, we were, and Asher was between my legs, preparing to thrust deep. “Now,” I pleaded, needing to feel him inside me, finally. Jean-Claude was watching us, his face a mask of lust. Asher pushed inside me and I arched to receive him. I stared into his eyes and tried to put into them just how much I had wanted this. He felt so good inside my body, thick and hard, his thrusts forceful. He found a rhythm easily and had me breathless in no time. He focused on my nipples, sucking and nipping. My back bowed with pleasure verging on pain.

Jean-Claude had moved closer to us, close enough to whisper in my ear, “Feed, ma petite, feed on this bounty, on our desire. Feed.” I was having trouble breathing as Asher pushed me higher. I writhed in his arms. I touched and stroked whatever was close. Asher moved his hand between our bodies and brought me with a simple touch. Jean-Claude echoed my cries through the marks. My eyes opened in surprise; I hadn’t remembered closing them.

If I thought we were done, I was wrong. Asher hadn’t even begun. He flipped us over. “Ride me, ma cherie,” he implored. I did. The orgasm had energized me. I wanted more. More of their sex, their lust, their need. The ardeur would not be gentle this night. Jean-Claude was behind me, kissing me, nibbling on me, tracing the scars with the tip of his tongue. His fangs grazed my neck and I shivered. His hands moved to the place where Asher and I were joined and he drenched his fingers in my wet heat.

He began preparing my rear passage for his use. Feeling his fingers, as well as Asher, inside me caused my heart to skip beats. I leaned down to Asher for a kiss, giving Jean-Claude better access. This was my last gift to both of them, to have again what they once had with Julianna. The multiple sets of hands on my body were making me crazy, the pleasure spasming through my body. He began to enter me, slowly but surely, fighting my own body’s natural reaction and perhaps even my mental one. “Shh, ma petite, we would never hurt you. Relax and be safe in our arms,” he whispered in my mind. But I didn’t have to relax my body, Asher thrust with a forceful grind and orgasm burst over me. I was blind with pleasure and barely noticed as Jean-Claude seated himself to the hilt.

The sense of fullness was almost overwhelming and for a few seconds, thought I might hyperventilate. I had a flash of Jean-Claude’s memories of doing this with Asher and Julianna. Almost exactly in this position. Through those memories I could feel Asher through that thin membrane separating the two passages. The pleasure of that touch had me climaxing again. My heart slammed against my chest and I drank the lust everywhere it touched my body. Jean-Claude wasn’t idle. He, too, was feeding on my pleasure, drinking me down in any hey he could.

Every thrust was a matching one and soon the rhythm took over as we all sped toward completion. Asher, who had controlled his release longest, came in a flood of heat that warmed me from within. Jean-Claude, feeling Asher’s release, cried out his own. The scalding jets of his climax triggered mine. I had no breath but still managed a scream as my body exploded with pleasure. I could no longer feel Jean-Claude’s nails digging into my body or Asher’s tongue against my hardened nipples. There was nothing but waves of ecstasy and this was all without Asher’s magic bite, just with their magic bodies.

I collapsed onto Asher’s chest. Jean-Claude pulled out of me slowly, reluctantly. Both he and Asher separated me from Asher’s body. I didn’t have the strength to move or speak. I wasn’t certain I hadn’t burnt out my vocal cords. Asher slipped out of bed but I didn’t have the energy or interest to ask why. My question was answered, however, when I felt a warm, damp cloth between my spread thighs. I whimpered a protest. Asher merely told me that it would make me feel better. When he was through, I was more comfortable. Jean-Claude tucked me against him and whispered in my mind to rest. I had no choice, my body was full, my heart reeling from the experience. I needed the oblivion of sleep to recover.

When I woke, hours later, I was still pressed against Jean-Claude. I thought about staying in his arms but my body was stiff after such vigorous exercise and I needed to move. “Are you all right, ma petite?”

It took me two tries to get my voice to croak, “I think so.” He held a glass of water to my lips and I gulped gratefully. “Where’s Asher?” I asked, or tried. My voice was raspy and barely audible.

“Running a bath. We let you sleep, but a bath will help ease the soreness.”

I blushed and dropped my eyes. A flash of memory, of Asher and Julianna and Jean-Claude and another bath. My breathing stuttered. Jean-Claude didn’t wait for my protests. He scooped me into his arms and strode into the bath. I would have argued that I could walk, but I wasn’t truly certain that my legs would hold me. My head lolled against his chest.

Asher was waiting in the bath and Jean-Claude passed me into his waiting arms. The water was just this side of hot and the heat was just what I needed. I let it soak into me, awake now, enjoying the quiet. Neither man said anything. I kept seeing something flicker out of the corner of my eye but it took me a while to realize it was the sparkles of my diamond necklace against the candlelight and mirrors. I laughed softly. Jean-Claude and Asher both kissed me lightly.

“Thank you, ma petite, for trusting us. For giving yourself to us,” Jean-Claude said. He was lathering up his hands with something fragrant. He took my arm and began washing it.

“Thank you, ma cherie, for giving me something I thought I had lost centuries before. I haven't made love to a woman, not fully, in hundreds of years. Not of my own volition and certainly not of hers.” Asher’s eyes closed in welcome memory of what we had shared.

Jean-Claude cherished my body, making sure to minister to all the sore areas. He and Asher both kneaded muscles, mine and each other’s. They were comfortable with one another again. The final barriers were down. Technically it was Christmas Day. Maybe it would be a good holiday after all.
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Consequences