"Mon Dieu!" he whispered in a semi groan against my lips. "But I have missed you, my love." And then he started to rock against me, each thrust and grind sending further shockwaves through my body.
I was stimulated, so sensitive but in a perfectly divine way, that every single movement he made caused a shiver through my body and pulled a moan from my lips. His pace increased, his lips laying kisses all over my cheek and neck, up to my jaw and then finally claiming my mouth just as forcefully as he claimed my body. There was no denying he was marking his territory, staking his claim again. Ten days had passed for me in Álfheimr, I didn't know how much time had passed for Michel, but it was clearly too much.
We'd been joined again after such a harrowing time apart, only to be separated immediately and unable to claim each other's bodies when we had needed and wanted to desperately at the time. Finally, now, we could. And I claimed him just as much as he claimed me.
My Light burst out before I had even realised I had called it, wrapping around our bodies, entwining with our limbs, twisting with our movements, creating a dance of brilliance against our sweat soaked skin. I knew I was marking him, giving him my Sigillum, and I knew he was letting me. He already wore my Sigillum on his chest in the form of a colourful iridescent tattoo-like design of a dancing dragon over his heart and up his neck. His dancing dragon. But now I was adding another. I wouldn't know what it looked like until it was done, I never consciously had any say, but it would be beautiful. As beautiful as the sensations he was making me feel, as the moment we were sharing together right now.
His movements became more frantic as my Light settled between us. Slick skin on slick skin, my legs wrapped firmly around him, his thrusts met by the upward movement of my hips, his mouth devouring mine, our bodies moving in synchronisation, so in-tune with each other we anticipated the other's moves. I cried out his name a second before him. My name a reverent prayer on his tongue as he thrust one last time deep inside me finding his own release and we both came to a panting-breath stop. Still wrapped up in each other, but breathing in tandem now, our bodies sated and still.
"Lucinda." He said my name again with such emotion. "Ma lumière belle, douce."
I smiled up at him, my hands running over his chest. Somewhere along the way he had lost his jacket, shirt and tie. I had absolutely no recollection of that. He smiled back at me, his magenta and amethyst eyes flashing an hypnotic swirl, drawing me in. I traced a finger gently down the side of his face, his eyelids closed briefly and he sighed. It sounded contented.
Goddess, it was so good being back in his arms.
"How long have I been gone?" I whispered, I couldn't help it, speaking loudly would have broken the moment for sure.
"Three weeks," he whispered back, maybe feeling the same way I did.
I blinked at the time difference. Three weeks, but he hadn't looked that tired when I first laid eyes on him. The joining separation should have taken a bigger toll.
"I used the Iunctio's power to ward off the effects of separation at the end, but with the portals closed I do not think it was as bad as we have experienced in the past."
A couple of things about that statement fluttered through my mind at once. One; like me he hadn't felt the separation as keenly as previous times apart, and two; he used the Iunctio's combined Nosferatu and Nosferatin power to ward off the effects at the end. It's not like I had forgotten he was the Champion, but every time I was reminded of it, I felt my stomach drop.
Michel shifted above me, moving his weight from directly on top, to just off to the side. Slipping down to lie along the length of my body, moulding himself to me and making sure I was snug against the back of the couch, bracketed by him. It was a move to make me feel secure, it was also a move to calm me from my reaction to the reminder of who he now was.
I took in a slightly shaky breath and held it for a second, then resolved to let it out along with any trepidation I felt about his new role. There was no point worrying about it. Michel was still Michel. And still mine.
He smiled at me, it lit up his entire handsome face. I blinked slowly to digest the vision before me, unsure why he seemed so picture perfect right at this second, how he was dazzling me when his Sanguis Vitam shouldn't have been able to breach my shields since we had re-joined.
"It is not my Sanguis Vitam," he said in answer to my thoughts. "You love me and have missed me. I feel it too. You are so very beautiful." He leaned his face down, I tilted mine to his and then he rested his forehead softly against mine. "Welcome home, ma douce."
Home. We'd been buffeted between supposed homes for a while. Where was home now?
"Here," he answered my thoughts again easily. It used to bug me that he read them, I can only read his when he chooses to project them, but he has almost unfettered access to mine. It doesn't bug me anymore, there's too much else in the world to be concerned with, besides it makes it easier for him to accept my quirks. "You do not have any quirks, ma belle." He was smiling again, this time a little mischievously.
I ignored that last statement and concentrated on the first. "Where are we? I don't recognise this place." I looked around what I could see of the room and confirmed I didn't recognise the building at all, but I started to notice a few things. Some soft furnishings that were familiar. A sculpture in the corner Michel had in his chamber in Sensations before we left NZ. A photo of my parents out the front of their farm in Cambridge. One of Amisi and Gregor next to it from the night we left New Zealand for London and had partied hard. A few of my favourite books in the corner, Michel's tablet computer on the coffee table. A mohair throw blanket I had adored from our home in St. Helier's Bay. Some artwork from Michel's holiday home in Taupo.
The room may have been foreign, but our lives were definitely spread throughout.
"Saint-Geoire-en-Valldaine, Le Château," Michel replied in his beautiful and seductive French accent. I did love it when he spoke in French. His lips twitched. "Hardly speaking, ma douce," he pointed out. "Just the name of the village we will now call home and the rather perfunctory name of this house."
I sat upright on the couch, causing him to flounder slightly for balance. He prevented himself from falling off the side of the sofa onto the plush cream carpet of the floor by reaching out and wrapping an arm around me, then swiftly manoeuvring us into a snuggling-type position side by side. He reached over and grasped the mohair throw, placing it around us and settling in to talk. There was a large fireplace along one side of the high ceilinged room. It wasn't lit, so winter hadn't reached wherever we were. But the throw was welcome, I had started to feel a little chilled, despite Michel's hot body along the length of mine.
I entwined my fingers with the fingers of one of his hands, noticing exactly where my latest Sigillum had been placed. Directly over his ring finger on his left hand. I wore a plain white gold wedding band with inlaid blue diamonds around the internal circumference, hidden from sight, as a representation of what we shared. Marriage. A joining. A Bond. Michel had no such ring.
Until now. My new Sigillum, in another colourful iridescent tattoo-like design, wrapped around his finger like an intricate wedding band, making him mine. I smiled down at it, then flicked my gaze up to Michel's face. He was looking at our hands, at our fingers intertwined, at the new Sigillum on his wedding finger. He looked ecstatic.
I tried to contain my own elation and returned my attention to the previous conversation.
"OK, explain," I demanded softly, he squeezed me quickly against his side.
"We are in a little commune, ah... parish, outside of Lyon, a few kilometres from my birthplace." Oh wow. "Kathleen and Matthew found it for us. I think they did quite well." He lifted his head and glanced around the room we were in. I agreed, it was lovely. Homely and familiar, but quite clearly grand. I would hazard a guess it was a couple of hundred years old, but nicely refurbished.
"You called it a castle. Is it really that big?" I asked, getting a little excited despite myself.
"It w
ill take you several days to explore. There are over twenty bedrooms, fifteen bathrooms, a full scale industrial kitchen, various utility rooms, a library, office and several entertaining parlours for various requirements. There are also several outbuildings, some refurbished, some not. Oh, and a moat and drawbridge, so yes, castle would be an apt description."
Holy hell. Kathleen had bought us a castle. Somehow not quite on the same level as our last holiday home.
"This is not just a holiday home," Michel said. "It is our sanctuary, our haven outside of our political obligations in Paris. We will be here as often as we can. As often as our business allows. For the immediate future."
I nodded my head slowly. So much information vying for attention in my mind, making it difficult to focus on the individual words he said. "How long does it take you to get back to Paris?" I asked, the first question to make it to my lips, my mind stuck on the thought that Lyon was not exactly next door to the City of Lights.
"Just over two hours by helicopter. We have one housed on the premises, ready at a moment's notice if need be, and can fly directly to the Palais."
They'd thought of everything, including my need to have a home away from the machinations of the Iunctio. Tears welled up in my eyes, burning and threatening to spill. Michel's hand came up and the pad of his thumb wiped beneath each eye in a pre-emptive gesture that seemed to work. None of the threatening tears spilled over. I reached up and held his hand in place, not wanting the contact to be broken. For several moments we just stared at each other.
"I should say hi to everyone," I said, for some reason it sounded a little breathless.
"Non," Michel said, his French accent in full force. "Tonight you are mine only. I will not share."
I could handle that. He'd said they were all OK, reacquainting myself with the family could wait, I wanted to reacquaint myself with my kindred first.
"That's more like it," he murmured, a small twitch at the corner of his lips. I couldn't pull my gaze away. Then the smile widened and stole my breath completely. "I think we both need this," he said softly, pulling me down on top of his body, the mohair throw falling silently to the side.
For the next few hours Michel showed me how much I meant to him and I returned the favour. He managed to surpass his earlier efforts, which considering how good they had been, surprised us both I think. I fell asleep, tired but happy - a completely different exhaustion from when I was in Álfheimr - in a sumptuous bed, in the middle of an equally sumptuous room, wrapped up in the beautiful arms of my kindred again.
Finally.
Chapter 6
All Mine
Kathleen found me in the enormous herb garden behind the Château the next day. The building was impressive, only two stories high but the footprint was huge. Four different wings off what had to have been the original 18th Century structure, made of a pale sandstone type brick, the corner stones and window trims in a contrasting white brick, the roof tiled in terracotta. It looked slightly Italian, not French, but I loved it anyway. The herb garden, part of a greater vegetable garden - Goddess knows what vampires will do with that - was attached to the side of the building, accessed by a door from the enormous kitchen, but within the confines of the moat.
I'd walked around the entire property before coming to rest on a stone bench in the beautifully scented garden I was in. I'd investigated the garages - complete with four late model black Range Rovers and my Mini, proof that this was now our home - several of the outhouses which consisted of further accommodation, offices and workshops - no doubt all designed to assist in the upkeep of the Château itself. And skipped over the short drawbridge, which was a simple wooden structure, the beams all slightly worn and not entirely safe looking. I still skipped.
Now I was sunbathing, while Michel worked from the office behind the shuttered windows inside the Château. The sun was high in the sky, I'd slept most of the morning away and it had taken a couple of hours to explore outside. Michel had seemed very relaxed when I had mentioned I was going for a walk, so I was sure there were human guards nearby, but I didn't see any. I was under no illusions though, he was the Champion now, his safety was paramount and knowing Michel, my safety to him was too.
I was blissfully happy. There was no other description for how I felt at that moment. Michel had loved me for hours last night, and this morning waking in his arms had been pure heaven. Not to mention where I had woken up. The Château was unbelievably beautiful and in little more than half a day, I was in love with the place.
"You did well," I said as Kathleen took a seat beside me on the bench, her movements slow and laborious - clearly her arthritis was playing up. She spread her floral skirt out around her and gazed off over the herb garden that surrounded us on all sides for a moment.
"We were lucky it was for sale," she said softly beside me in her lovely Kent accent. "The location couldn't have been more perfect" - she was referring to it being near Michel's birthplace - "and the farmland surrounding it reminded me of where you grew up." I looked out over the herb garden to further afield and spotted the odd white fluffy animal - sheep I was guessing, perfect - in amongst vineyards. Almost, but with those vines, not quite the same as where I grew up.
I smiled at her. "I love it!" She let a breath out on a happy sigh. "You weren't worried I wouldn't, were you?" I asked.
"Mistress, I was petrified."
I stared at her, she shrugged back and then we both burst out laughing.
When we calmed down a little, she asked, "Do you think you could live here, Mistress?"
"Absolutely, as long as the rest of the family is here too."
"Oh, there is plenty of room for everyone."
"You and Matthew will be here also?"
She nodded, "We'll share overseeing care of the property with Christopher."
I perked up at that. The thought that Michel's vampire, who had been subjected to his London based Victorian monstrosity of a house for centuries, would be living in this uplifting and beautiful environment was appealing. I couldn't think of a better reward for years of living in purgatory than that.
"He will be available for the night hours, " Kathleen continued to add. "And Matthew and myself will cater to the daylight ones."
"Perfect," I announced, still beaming.
Kathleen watched me for a moment, taking in my over exuberant smile and no doubt healthy glow. Nothing beats spending time with your kindred when you're joined. Michel and I would always be stronger together than apart from now on. We would grow weak and possibly die if forced to live separate from each other though. The closed portals had helped to ease that, but as soon as they opened up again to Álfheimr all that separation damage came crashing back in. Thankfully, I saw no reason for us to be apart for lengthy periods again. He was the Champion now, the most revered and feared vampire of the lot. Anyone taking him on would be insane.
"You look well, Mistress. Well enough for a celebration, I think."
I smiled wider. "Sounds intriguing."
"I have work to do then," she announced, standing up slowly, brushing herself down and taking a step away. She turned back suddenly, her face a little uncertain. "Not that you wouldn't already be aware, Mistress, but he worked tirelessly to have the portals opened again. There were moments where I think he feared he would not succeed."
That didn't sound like Michel, he was always so sure of himself and his ability to achieve his goals. If there was a question of failure at all, then it wouldn't have been from lack of him trying or lack of his abilities. I wondered just what he had to face to get them opened again and what the consequences would now be. I nodded to Kathleen and watched her walk off towards the vegetable garden and then slipped back into the house.
I found Michel in his office. It was much larger than his home office in St. Helier's Bay. You could almost mistake it for a library, although I knew the Château had a larger room with shelved books and roller ladders, green glass covered lamp shades and comfortable chairs. This office on
ly had two walls of bookshelves, but a large antique partner's desk, leather clad chairs and beautiful green leafed plants filling the space. The floor was parquet, like the rest of the house, with a large intricate rug covering the centre of the room. The lights were on as the shutters were still down and the fireplace was set, but not alight.
"Hey," I said softly, my head poking around the door.
He stopped what he was doing immediately and smiled. "Ma douce, come in." He lifted his hand and held it out to me in invitation. I walked straight to him and let him pull me onto his lap.
His kiss was soft and gentle, a brush of his lips against mine, a soft inhale of my scent to ground him, the stroke of his hand over the small of my back. He pulled away and gazed up at me, his eyes skimming my face as though he hadn't seen me in months, not just a couple of hours. He seemed hungry for any glimpse, trying to memorise features as if he was scared I'd run away.
I smiled reassuringly down at him and traced a line from his temple down his neck with a finger. We both sighed.
"Was it bad when I was away?" I asked, surprising him I think.
"In what way?"
"Getting the portals back open?"
"Ah," he said and my stomach plummeted. He squeezed me tightly for a split second and then leaned back in his chair and stared up at me. "Politics, nothing more, ma belle."
I raised my eyebrows at him and cocked my head. That answer was not going to wash. He chuckled.
"All right," he conceded. "I shall confess all. But lets do this over a drink."
He helped me to my feet and walked over to a drinks trolley that had been hiding behind a particularly leafy pot plant in the corner of the room. He started fussing with ice in one crystal glass and then adding the appropriate liquor into two. Scotch straight for him. A Bacardi and Coke on ice for me.
Kiss of the Dragon Page 6