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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
- 6
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Chapter 7

Jean-Claude came in through the open door, looked at me and whatever he saw there caused him to take me into his arms and press me close. I began to tremble in reaction. He just held me and murmured softly in French. I even understood some of what he said. I hadn't realized I was cold until Jean-Claude's stolen warmth seeped into me. Muscles began to loosen. The worst was over. I hoped.

Jean-Claude had closed the door behind him and when he thought I was warm enough, he released me to run the bath. When he returned he began undressing us both. I hadn’t moved from where he left me and I stood passively under his hands. But when I was naked in front of him and he just stood and stared, I felt a blush rise. "You are so beautiful, ma petite," he told me. I shook my head but in his arms, I did feel beautiful. He brushed his fingers over my nipples. It was the barest of touches but I gasped as they tightened. "So much more responsive," he whispered and I felt things tighten low in my body. He leaned his head to take one of my nipples in his mouth but at the touch of his tongue I literally swooned in his arms. Next thing I knew he was lowering me into the steamy water.

He bathed me tenderly. I felt boneless, weightless and nearly mindless. Not with pleasure, but with nothingness. I had told Jean-Claude my secret and he hadn’t thrown me out but there was still a tension between us that frightened me. I wanted to channel that fear into anger, anger was one of my best things, but I couldn’t work up that much emotion. I think Jean-Claude understood because he didn’t make any demands on me, even his touch was comforting rather than arousing. We didn’t speak but the silence didn’t bother me.

When the water grew cool, he lifted me out, dried me off and began to rub my skin with fragrant lotion he had pulled from somewhere. He paid particular attention to my stomach, smoothing the lotion with steady strokes. I held onto his shoulders and bit my lip to stop the tears. I should have been over the hormone fluctuations by now. But the littlest thing still brought me to tears. I hated it. They made me feel weak. When he was through, he put on a pair of black silk pajama bottoms. I was further surprised when he nudged my arms up so that he could dress me in a diaphanous piece of black silk that aroused me merely by its touch. I gasped. My skin had become so much more sensitive lately.

He lifted me up in his arms again and his skin was heated against me. We were both tucked up in bed, I was resting my head on his chest, hugging him close to me, my thigh curled over one of his legs, my arm around his stomach, before he spoke to me. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. I tried to detect emotion in his tone but he was a master at neutral.

I debated what to say, whether to tell him the truth or not. My lips were resting not too far from his nipple and I snaked my tongue out to flick at it. I was hoping to distract him but he flipped us over, “Non, ma petite, not tonight,” he said. My eyes widened and the pit in my stomach that had finally begun to close down, opened wide again.

“You don’t want me?” I squeaked. God, I hated being this needy. It went against everything I had tried to be. But I never thought that he might not want me because I was pregnant. I mean I thought he might break up with me but not that he wouldn’t want me.

“Oh, ma petite, I always want you,” he said and kissed me. The kiss quickly intensified in depth and I was panting when he finally released my lips. He licked his own and my heart skipped a beat. “But I think tonight I would just like to hold you. Tomorrow night I can show you just how much I’ve missed you. But tonight I want you to sleep in my arms and know that you are safe.”

I couldn’t stop the single tear that spilled down my cheek. I had rejected his love so often and he had pursued me anyway. He wiped the tear away with he thumb and laid a gentle kiss where it had been. “Je t’aime, ma petite,” he said and rolled us back again so that I was protected in the curve of his arm.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier, ma petite?” he asked again. I still didn’t want to answer. He tilted my chin up so that I would meet his gaze. I looked away but I gave in.

“Micah knew I was pregnant before I did. He sensed it when we had sex. I thought you would be able to tell as well. I thought this might have crossed your line.” I was barely whispering now but I knew his vampiric hearing would catch it all. “I knew that you said that Jason was an acceptable partner but I didn’t think that included getting me pregnant. I wasn’t ready to lose you. Not when so many first time pregnancies end in natural miscarriages. I wanted to wait until I was sure,”

“Ma petite, there is nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you or stop wanting you. This complicates our lives but we will manage.” He laid his palm on my stomach and closed his eyes, a small smile played about his lips.

I realized in that moment that he was happy about this. Shocked of course, but happy. “You want this baby,” I said, surprised.

“Oui, ma petite. I never thought to have children. It wasn’t an option when I was still human and certainly not when I was made vampire. But watching you grow round with child, flush with that new life, will be a greater pleasure than I could have dreamed.” The marks between us flared and I gasped with sensation. “Speaking of dreams, did you enjoy yours?” he asked, and his voice sent shivers of pleasure up and down my spine. I wriggled and pressed against him.

“Yes,” I said on a gasp. My hand went wandering and he stopped it with his own. “Do you want to do those things with me?” I asked, remembering what he and Asher had done with their hands, their mouths, their bodies. My breath caught in my throat.

“Oh, yes, ma petite, very much. I have waited a long time for you to be willing. I have no wish to frighten you but there are things I have not done, things that I very much wish you to experience.” His hands were stroking me now, but not to arouse me. It was a comforting touch and my body moved away from the edge of need. “Tomorrow night we may begin but tonight, I thought another dream might be in order. Sleep in my arms, ma petite, and accept the pleasure.” He reinforced his request with his voice and I felt myself drifting.

When I opened my eyes, I was still wrapped around Jean-Claude. He looked at me, his eyes drowning midnight. My heart stutteredthe the desire in his. Was it tomorrow already? When he bent his head to capture my lips, I lifted my head to meet him. His lips were like warm velvet. I opened my mouth against the pressure and his tongue swept in, silky and sensuous. I wanted more and we had hardly begun.

I was still wearing the nightgown he had put on me but as I stroked down his back to his firm buttocks, I realized he was naked. I wriggled closer to him as though I could melt into his body. It had been too long since I had felt him against me, inside me. My breath quickened and I broke from his lips to begin kissing his face, his neck, his chest. Whatever I could reach.

I heard the door open and close again but when I looked up I didn’t see anything. The bed moved and I felt the heat of another body next to me. It touched mine but it wasn’t the body I expected. I froze and my breathing quickened to sharp, short intakes. Micah lay on the other side of me. He stroked my body and said, “If this scares you we’ll stop. If we overwhelm you at any time, you can stop us.” I stopped breathing, stopped moving, stopped thinking. “We just want to bring you endless pleasure, Anita,” Micah murmured against my ear. My arm reached back to stroke his hair and he took advantage of my position to move his hand under the gown. Since he and I had been making love, he knew that my nipples had become frighteningly sensitive so he kept his touches light. There would be time soon enough to bring me screaming. It seemed to have become Micah’s favorite thing to do, draw screams from me.

I moaned and Jean-Claude looked at him, his eyes flaring with power. “Please, Jean-Claude, please love me,” I begged. He tore the gown from my body and the cool air was startling. I felt a measure of Jean-Claude’s ardeur but my own was still quiet. That meant this was all for me. What I wanted. I trembled. It had been hard enough for me to get used to Jean-Claude and Asher but now with Micah, my God. My sheltered Midwestern upbringing had not prepared me for hands and mouths touching, sucking, stroking.

Micah focused on the upper half of body, rendering me nearly senseless with drugging kisses. I couldn’t get enough of his mouth, his tongue. I arched toward him every time he pulled away. His hands were at my breasts, no longer gentle. He tweaked and tugged on the nipples and I could feel every touch like an electric shock. I grabbed him, held on, and tried to reconcile the hands at my breasts to the hands between my legs.

Jean Claude had watched but had not stayed idle. I felt his tongue at my belly button, teasing, tasting. His hands stroked, eventually touching the damp heat between my legs. I jumped as they entered me, probing deeply but gently. His mouth followed. The touch of his tongue between my legs was as electric as Micah’s has been at my breasts. He began to focus on my pleasure center, sucking and laving. My body began to take on a life of its own, no longer responding to me as the sensual power increased. I reached for Micah to draw him closer, I could barely hold onto him. Jean-Claude was moving faster now, bringing me ever close to the edge but not letting me go over. Every time he knew I was close, he backed off.

Suddenly he was focused, intense. I felt fangs and my eyes widened. Micah kissed me as though he would climb through my body with his mouth. I heard Jean-Claude in my mind. “Tonight there will be blood,” he whispered. I had almost enough time to process that when I felt a fang nick my clitoris. Blood welled and he sucked the wound. I bucked against the bed so hard I thought I might hurt myself. He didn’t just push me over that shining edge of orgasm, he propelled me there. I couldn’t breathe but my scream was endless.

When I eventually came back to the world, my men were on either side of me, displayed in all their erect glory, looking exceptionally smug. I wasn’t seeing clearly yet, my world was still streaming colors and aftershocks of an ecstasy so great I wasn’t sure I could withstand another round of that intensity. Micah kissed my forehead and when he leaned back, Jean-Claude took my lips. I could taste myself.

“Are you all right, ma petite?” he asked and the sensuality of his voice slithered around my body like a robe.

Speaking required more energy or at least more focus than I had at the moment. I knew that later this would all hit me and I’d be embarrassed and probably a little frightened by the passion. But for now, I reveled in the skin tingling rush. I blinked a few times and tried to take deep breaths, tying to stop the ragged panting. A hand reached out and stroked my hair. We weren’t done yet. Not even close. When I thought I had a little more control, I reached out both hands to fold around their erections. Both were velvet-and-silk wrapped steel but there the resemblance ended. Micah was disproportionately large for his size, though considering he was my height, that wasn’t altogether surprising. He wasn’t merely long, he was thick and I couldn’t close my hand easily around the shaft. I stroked until he groaned deep in this throat.

Jean-Claude was the color of living marble, alabaster, smooth and sleek, long and hard. He was the first uncircumcised man I had been with and I smoothed the foreskin down the shaft, He jumped in my hand and I squeezed a little tighter. His head fell back and he inhaled sharply.

“You bit me,” I said, my mental gears finally clicking back into place. My voice was hoarse. High pitched, continuous screaming has a tendency to cause that.

“Non, ma petite, if I were to truly bite you, particularly there, you wouldn’t yet be conscious,” he said and the look in his eyes caused my heart to skip several beats. My head fell back revealing the line of my neck and Jean-Claude was on me. “I need you, ma petite,” he said with a voice rougher than I was used to hearing. He spread my legs and pushed between them. His first thrust was steady and powerful and I arched to meet it.

Jean-Claude was not gentle but I welcomed the feel of him in my body. Micah was watching us with a mixture of lust and awe. I wanted him too. Before I could think better of the idea, I grabbed his thigh and murmured, “I want you.” It was almost too much between the thrusting of Jean-Claude’s body into mine and my own ardeur, which had risen to delight in its fresh feeding.

“Are you sure?” Micah asked, concern evident in his voice but desire still clouding his eyes.

“Come to me,” I said, “Please.”

Jean-Claude had moved me in such a way that Micah could straddle my chest. I stroked down one of Jean-Claude’s arms before putting both hands on Micah’s buttocks and guiding him to my mouth. We never did it this way because he was too large to fit comfortably in my mouth but this was a night for changing the rules. My tongue snaked out and licked the head. Micah groaned and gripped the headboard. I thought that the headboard might have imprints of his fingers. I opened my mouth wider and took more of him inside. Every once in a while, Jean-Claude would thrust in such a way that left me breathless, the pleasure spilling over and through me. Micah was trying desperately to let me do the work but when my teeth scraped lightly against him, he couldn’t help but flex his hips in reaction. He went deeper than he had planned and I struggled, pleasure burning to fear. He backed off immediately. Only my grip on his buttocks kept him from leaving my body altogether.

“Anita, oh God, I’m sorry,” Micah said, only semi-erect now. Fear has a way of killing passion and Micah was not yet out of control. But soon, I knew, soon we would all lose control. The pleasure had been building. I knew it wouldn’t take more than a moment to return Micah to readiness.

“Micah, I’m fine. Please let me taste you. I need to taste you. I need to feel you,” I begged, half out of my mind with desire. He was smaller now and easier to take. He didn’t stay small for long. Jean-Claude’s thrusts had gotten sharper, deeper, longer. Every movement rubbed against my clitoris andnew new it wouldn’t be long. I focusn lin licking and sucking at Micah as though he were candy. His breathing had grown ragged. Hell, even Jean-Claude, who didn’t need to breathe, was gasping. I kneaded Micah’s buttocks and moved between them, fingering the sensitive rim of his anus. Jean-Claude’s hands snaked around and raked Micah’s nipples from behind. The suddenness of his action caused Micah to rear up and thrust hard and deep within my mouth. My eyes widened but it wasn’t unexpected this time and I didn’t react in fear. I swallowed each jet of creamy liquid. My body had tensed however, and I squeezed Jean-Claude with all the internal muscles I had. He shouted my name and I felt his heat flood my lower regions. My own orgasm burst over me like fireworks and the ardeur, mine and his, took the opportunity to feed. There were so many bodies touching mine, so many fluids, so much pleasure.

Micah drew away from me as soon as he was able to and Jean-Claude did the same. They crawled up on either side of me. I was barely conscious. Both put their hands on my belly protectively. Even in my hazy state, I realized that Micah might have some competition for the father title. I never expected that.

“Mon minet,” Jean-Claude said, drawing Micah’s attention to him. He leaned over my body and Micah met him halfway. Their lips met in a gentle kiss. “Merci,” Jean-Claude said. Micah merely cocked his head and smiled. Without warning, I was asleep.
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Consequences