Bloodlines: Currents

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Bloodlines: Currents Page 8

by Mechele Armstrong


  The hand on Nathan’s ass shifted, one finger finding his hole.

  Nathan tensed as the finger probed inside.

  “Relax. I’m preparing you.”

  Nathan’s thrusting stilled. “For you?”

  Henri’s finger dipped in again to toy with the outer edges. “Yes. You said you’d been with a man before.”

  Nathan’s muscles tried to push the invading finger out. “I have.”

  A second finger pushed in with the first. Nathan gasped, his body lifting up before coming down. “Henri.”

  The fingers slipped out. The hand that was caressing Nathan’s balls moved away. “Nathan. What have you done with a man?”

  He hung his head down. He tried to count to twenty to get his mind clear enough to answer. “We...sucked each other. Touched.” He’d had three lovers. They’d handled each other’s cocks and used their mouths on each other. Once Jacques had said something about ass fucking. It had been after he visited the city, but Nathan had been disenchanted with him already by then. It had been when Nathan had told him the sexual experimentation between them would cease. He hadn’t put it past Jacques to say untruths to make Nathan look as if he were a fool, so he wasn’t sure how accurate the information he had was.

  “That’s it?” Henri sounded incredulous.

  Nathan’d seen enough farm animals to know what male and female did. But he’d never seen or talked to anyone about two men besides Jacques, and his experience had severe doubts cast upon it. “Of course that’s it.”

  Henri patted Nathan’s backside gently, his fingers lightly gliding over the skin. “So you’re a virgin.”

  Nathan blinked.

  “Let me show you. Let me take you.”

  Henri left his side, going into the kitchen without a lantern. Nathan heard him rustling around. He came back with lard. “Not the best for this. But it will do.” He had a bowl in the other hand with soapy water and a cloth, which he sat on the floor near to where Nathan rested.

  Nathan lifted up on his side. He watched Henri open the lard container. “You’re cooking something?”

  Henri chuckled. “No.” He twirled a finger. “Flip back over.”

  Nathan did so slowly. “You’re going to cook me, aren’t you?” The comment didn’t come out as flippant as he’d wanted.

  “No.” Henri’s hand pressed into Nathan’s back before turning him over the opposite of the way he’d ordered Nathan to go. He lowered down to slowly kiss him. Their mouths fused in a dance of longing and precision.

  Nathan’s heart was pumping by the time it finished.

  “You said you trusted me.”

  “I do, Henri. I do.” He did, even if this situation was not what he’d expected of it.

  Henri’s eyes crackled with a fire that rooted deep in Nathan’s soul. He’d follow Henri to the end of the earth if he asked. “Then, flip over and let me show you the other ways a man can love another man.”

  Swallowing at the word “love,” Nathan turned quicker this time, landing on his stomach with a breath. His body was still tense. Henri was going to breech his ass.

  His hands touched so gently on Nathan’s back, he almost jumped. That hadn’t been where he’d expected them.

  “Shhhh.” Henri’s hands kneaded the muscles, easing him into relaxing.

  Something warm and gooey slid into his hole. It oozed in, sinking down. The finger slid in behind it, now slippery as it pressed down.

  “You’re still so tight. Is this better?”

  Once he got past the shock, it was better. In fact, the finger was so slippery and probing, it was pretty damn good. “Yes.”

  The finger pulled in and out, in and out.

  “Ohhh.”

  A second finger joined the first. They stretched him, sliding as the first one had. There was pressure, especially at first, but it was almost sweet, as if pleasure took it over.

  They soon were all the way in him.

  And that’s when one of Henri’s fingers bumped something. Something that had Nathan writhing in ecstasy. “Oh, shit.” Several more touches, and Nathan’s hip bucked. Henri’s fingers moved away from it. “What the hell is that?”

  “Don’t know. But it feels damn good, doesn’t it?” Desire oozed from Henri. He’d been turned on before, now he was even more so. That took Nathan to new heights in his own passion.

  “Hell, yes.” A third finger joined the first two. Definite stretching and pulling on the walls of his anus with this. But still, this was unique pleasure that turned him inside out.

  Continuing to probe with his fingers, Henri’s other hand wrapped under Nathan’s leg to find his cock. Coated in the lard, the hand pulled on him, creating a channel in his hand to slide Nathan’s cock in and out of. The lard made him slide so easily.

  When the fingers inside encountered the magical place again, Nathan couldn’t keep in his groans. Never had anything excited him more. Henri’s hands kept teasing, doing sensational things.

  His orgasm shattered his entire being as his cock shot it out across Henri’s hand. Over and over, his hips pumped until there was nothing left.

  All the fingers and hands withdrew from him. Nathan lay on the floor, sated beyond anything. Henri wiped off the lard from his hands, then washed them in the bowl.

  “That was incredible.” Nathan shook his head.

  “There’s more.” Henri lay on the floor beside him, wrapping his body around Nathan’s. “When you’re ready, I’ll show you.”

  “More?”

  Henri nodded.

  “Men put their cocks up there, don’t they?” Nathan should have been embarrassed by the question and his crude language, but he wasn’t. Not with the man who’d found such a place in Nathan’s body with his fingers. Not with the man he’d shared such emotion with and who hadn’t fled from him in his darkest time. Not with the man who Nathan was beginning to know through the sense of his emotions. And Nathan needed to know for sure if Jacques spoke the truth. Henri would tell him.

  “Yes, they do.”

  “You want to do that to me.”

  “Yes.” Henri kissed him, gently.

  Nathan’s hole was a little sore from the three fingers. “It’s going to hurt.”

  “Not if we do it right.”

  “You wanted to do it tonight.”

  Henri shrugged, the motion moving them both. “It wasn’t the right time. You weren’t expecting what I did. Soon, it will be right. And I’ll take you all the way.”

  Nathan sighed. He rolled into Henri’s body, pulling him even closer. “Do I get to do that to you with my cock?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good.”

  Nathan drifted off to sleep, wrapped in Henri’s arms, more content than he’d been in a lifetime.

  Chapter Seven

  The morning sun crested high in the sky by the time Jacques made it to the village. And things were already running smoothly with his plan. The whole village was abuzz with the mysterious deaths of the livestock. A group of them stood outside the small Catholic church in the courtyard.

  “It’s a demon at work, I tell you.”

  “I knew he never liked me. This proves it.”

  “There was no animal marks on ‘em. They lay there, dead.”

  “What’s going on?” Jacques feigned concern and ignorance as he marched up to the same group he’d talked to yesterday.

  “My sheep and goats!” Madame Beauchamp keened with a wail. “Most were dead when we came out this morning.” She’d always liked drama. Next, she’d probably throw herself on the ground and writhe.

  Monsieur Beauchamp’s face contained lines etched in it as if it were made of granite. “All are dead now.” He rubbed his face with his hands. All the Beauchamps had were the animals. They’d now have to replace them, which wouldn’t be easy, as they had not much else to trade. The villagers would band together and help where they could. But the coming winter would be lean for the family.

  Widow Badeau’s face contorted so tha
t she resembled a ghoul. “Goats all dead. And Napoleon. He was dead by the fence. He must have been protecting my animals from the brute.” Like the Beauchamps, Widow Badeau had had little since her husband had passed on. The next year wouldn’t be easy. She had no children to help with the hardships created by the loss of her animals.

  Jacques put a hand over his chest as if he had grave concern. He’d known the families he’d picked would see the situation as he wanted them to, and be quick to assign blame. Yes, his whole plan was coming together now. “All your animals are dead? How can that be?”

  “It was him. That Nathan.” The widow spat on the ground as if his name dirtied her mouth.

  “Are you sure?” Jacques put his foot on a stone by the path. This was going better than he expected. They’d mentioned Nathan’s name without his prodding.

  “What else could it be?” Madame Beauchamp sniffed.

  “Maybe a bear?” Jacques waved a hand. “They do sometimes come down from the mountains.”

  “There were no animal marks or tracks or nothing. All the goats lay dead. Not a mark on Napoleon.”

  Jacques blew out a heavy breath, shaking his head. “Well, that’s something else. I knew that Nathan was trouble.” In more ways than one. The bastard.

  A voice piped up from the back. “He’s a demon. He’s possessed.”

  From the middle. “He’s a witch.”

  Jacques nodded, keeping his mouth in a frown. “I think you’re right. I hated to even say it before. But I think this proves it.” Other places had given up on notions of witches and chasing them out, but here, they still were discussed.

  “We should get him.” Monsieur Beauchamp hefted his fist into his other hand with a thwap.

  “What do you mean?” Widow Badeau kicked out a foot, springing up her lacy skirt. “How can we get him?”

  “We should teach him that witches got no place in this village. Burn him out. Burn out the demon.” A young man about Nathan’s and his own age popped up with a horrified look. Philippe and Nathan had once hung out together a lot. Now he was on the side of those who would condemn him. Interesting.

  Yes, fire would be a good way for Nathan to die. Jacques grinned before composing himself to look more serious. “We do need to get rid of him before he kills again. Who could be next? Maybe your children?”

  Several gasps went through the ladies of the group. The men grunted, clasping their wives closer.

  “Let’s get him.”

  “We’ll go tonight. His powers will be weaker at night.”

  Shit. Jacques had never heard that idea before. Most were scared of the night, and with good reason. Bellario’s powers would be stronger then, and he’d be aware of what Jacques was doing. Jacques was merely supposed to get the villagers riled up enough to put Nathan in danger, so Bellario could offer him safety. He wasn’t supposed to be plotting an attack to kill the blond-haired nuisance. “We should go now. Before he attacks again.”

  “But won’t he be easier to get at night?”

  Jacques shook his head. “One never knows. But best to take him out before he does anything more.”

  Beauchamp nodded along with several others in the crowd. “We should get the bastard now. Not wait. I thought the night was when the powers were strongest, anyway.”

  Jacques sighed deeply with relief. He’d averted that crisis. “There is another man staying with Nathan.”

  “We’ll get him, too.” A snarl rang up.

  Henri was a vampire. From what Jacques had heard, the only way to kill one was decapitation, but that was folklore. Jacques didn’t know if it was true. He patted his large knife. He’d take care of the squat man if he tried to get in their way. With the mob he had with him, this was going to be easy. Jacques would go afterward to Bellario and tell him about the mob. He’d lay the blame at Henri’s feet. That Henri had killed the livestock for food, whipping the villagers up to go after Nathan. Even if Henri survived this, Bellario would deal with him for causing his loss. And Jacques would come out a winner, getting an eternal life for his service without Nathan.

  “Let’s collect our weapons. And go get the witch!”

  A chant of, “Get the witch!” sounded throughout the crowd.

  Jacques followed as the farmers collected what weapons they had. Torches were lit.

  “We’ll set that house on fire. Burn it to the ground. And if Nathan tries to come out, or that other man--” Beauchamp hefted a pitchfork. “We’ll get him.”

  * * * * *

  Henri smacked his lips, turning over. The hard floor was cool despite the blankets that had gotten tossed on him at some point in the night. Nathan had gotten them so they wouldn’t get too chilly. They would have moved to a bed, but the only bed big enough for two wasn’t one they were comfortable using. And they’d both wanted to spend the night in each other’s arms. So the floor it had been.

  He wrapped his legs and arms around Nathan, snuggling him closer. With one hand, he pushed Nathan’s hair back from his face. Nathan snored lightly. He kicked out a leg, his morning erection pressing against Henri’s thigh.

  The rush of desire that engulfed him was surprising. They’d both come to completion last night. But his desire hadn’t been quenched. He still wanted Nathan with a force that would move mountains.

  Nathan’s eagerness combined with a true innocence captivated him. He’d wanted to plow himself up into Nathan’s firm folds until he released. But he hadn’t wanted to hurt Nathan, which, considering his virgin status, he could do if he did not properly prepare him. They’d play for now, until Nathan was ready to take him both physically and emotionally. The former, he could have been ready last night; the latter was what needed to be waited for. Nathan had eagerly talked about taking Henri, which had caused him to shiver. Few men that Henri had been with ever did that.

  Now, he only had to convince Nathan to go to Paris and everything would work out. He’d keep Nathan safe from Bellario while showing him pleasures beyond his imagination and showing him the world. Perhaps he’d take Nathan to Rome after Paris. He could introduce him to Bastian, an incredibly stable vampire he’d made years before.

  God, how he envied Bastian. Bastian didn’t have to fight the intense demons of his vampire, or at least not all the time. He didn’t struggle with it day to day as Henri did. Bastian had his own trials to deal with, including a fear that he’d always be too late to save those he cared for. Bastian constantly tried to make it up to those he’d let down, though they were long gone.

  Henri yawned, closing his eyes. His feelers drifted out.

  His eyes snapped open.

  Most of the time he couldn’t sense humans from any distance. He could only read them when they were in close proximity to him.

  But this was a mob. There were so many humans packed together with so many raging emotions, they were easily detectable.

  And they were heading this way.

  * * * * *

  Nathan woke with a start.

  Henri shook him frantically. “Nathan. Nathan. Get up.” Tension rolled underneath the even tone of his voice, and off of him.

  “What? What’s wrong?” Nathan scrubbed at his face, trying to work the sleep from his system. He’d planned on a much more leisurely awakening than this.

  “There’s a mob coming. Villagers.” Henri pulled on a shirt. “They’re close by.”

  “What?” Nathan sat up. The blanket fell down into his lap. “How do you know?”

  “I just do.” Henri yanked on breeches as rapidly as he could. “Nathan, get dressed. We have to get out of here.”

  Nathan quickly pulled on his clothes. “What’s a mob doing coming here?” He tried to peek around Henri.

  Henri growled, his face scanning from a window. “They’re here.”

  The bubble of sounds reached him as a rock sailed through the window. Glass littered the wooden floor.

  “Witch! Witch!”

  “Demon spawn.”

  “You’ll burn in hell.’
r />   Nathan pulled on his shoes before pushing to his feet. “What are they doing?” He tucked in his shirt. It was a normal thing to do when things weren’t normal at all. Dammit, what was going on?

  “They’re carrying torches. Pitchforks.” Henri turned to look at him. “Jacques is with them.”

  “I don’t understand this. These are my...people.” Or at least they had been. They’d always thought him strange, but not considered him evil. What had happened? Jacques. Somehow he’d rallied the village against him.

  Henri patted his sagging shoulder. “Jacques has done this. From the cries, they think you’re a demon or a witch.” Smokey scents burned through the air. “I think they intend to burn you out.”

  “I know these people.” They were those he’d known all his life. Grown up with. Through the window, he spotted Jacques at the helm of the throng. Philippe Mastoban was off to one side. Two of the men he’d had as lovers were in the mob. Nathan balled his hands into fists. “How? Why?”

  Henri gripped his face in strong hands. “It’s not about you. He’s done this. Listen to me, Nathan. We’ll get out of this. But I need you together.”

  Nathan nodded. Later, he’d deal with everyone he knew turning against him. Provided they survived.

  Crackling sounds surrounded them. The mob had set the house on fire. The house his parents had built with their bare hands. Everything they’d worked for, and these people were ripping it apart because he was different, and because of the ramblings of a vicious man. Nathan clenched his fists together. These people wanted him to die. They wanted him to either be killed by fire or by one of them when running out of the house.

  Henri had surveyed the entire perimeter. “In the back of the house, there aren’t as many people; only looks as if there are two, nor has the fire spread as much back there.” He pointed a finger to a window. “We can bust out through there and get to the woods before they catch us.”

  “And if we can’t?” The smoke was staring to fill the room. Nathan coughed, the acrid scent burning his nostrils. Flames licked the underbelly of the house, becoming more and more visible.

 

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