Michel has always sought power. I knew this before I even joined with him. It's a vampire trait, but one he has perfected over the centuries. He's a power junkie, he seeks it, he prizes it, he craves it. Gregor had tried to use that knowledge as a way to put a wedge between me and my kindred, but I had always known that this was Michel. Power hungry to the nth degree. I knew it, I had thought I had accepted it.
Until now.
This was the first time since he held me in his arms and the Sanguis Vitam Cupitor powers flooded through me, that he has fulfilled my greatest fear of what he could do.
Sure, he has hurt me in many ways, he has dominated and controlled me, he has cast me aside when I had made that final heart giving move to let him in completely, he has punished me in many forms, physically and emotionally harmed me to make a point. But none of it, none of it at all, ever came close to this moment of treachery. None of it hurt as much as right now.
“Leave us,” Michel's deep voice reached me down the dark tunnel I had retreated to, slamming into my head with the force of a two tonne truck.
I knew his eyes were boring into me, I also knew the vampires in the room had sensed, if they couldn't in fact already see with their eyes, that I was mad, fuming. My Light had begun to pulse around my body, not just a flash of brightness, but a physical wave of power; undulating, throbbing, vibrating through the room. It touched each and every one of them and I wasn't playing nice.
Michel's vampires made a quick retreat, flashes of colour as they streamed out the door, their relief at getting away from me palpable. Avery walked slowly, almost caressing the waves of my Light as he passed, an intimate gesture that was lost on Michel - his eyes all for me - but not lost on me. Avery's amber and jade filled eyes held mine as he glided by, barely two feet away, his hand outstretched surfing the waves of my power as they pulsated around him. His smile said it all.
When the door closed softly behind him, my Light exploded through the room, pinning Michel to the sofa, rattling the glasses at the bar, the windows, the lamp bases and anything else it found worth shattering as it poured through the air around us. I let it build and build and build, and then in one final fit worthy of a toddler's temper tantrum, I let it expand and burst from within me, until not a glass surface in the parlour was left intact.
If he wanted power, I'd give him power.
Deathly silence engulfed us in the wake of all that screeching, shattering glass. I was breathing heavily, my pulse pounding in my skull, adrenaline coursing through my veins, my fists held tightly at my sides, my jaw rigid, my body tense. I was so mad, so full of rage, I wondered briefly if the Dark had taken over and the burst of my Light just now was the Dark banishing it for good from inside of me. I quickly sent my senses internally and breathed a sigh of relief when I felt all of my Light, every single fragment of it, sitting within, waiting, comforting, filling me up and pushing against the Dark.
Even in a rage-filled tantrum my Light prevailed. Clearly evidence of where there is Light, there is always Dark and where there is Dark, there is always Light.
I hadn't looked at Michel since I had sent my Light punishingly through the room, I half turned to face him now, fully prepared to do battle, my Light still thrumming in a menacing warning around my body. When my eyes found his, I almost crumbled, but my anger was too great to be affected by the look of panic and worry that graced his face.
He had stood, as soon as my Light had left him, breathing heavily, body shaking with the after effects of all that piercing power I had sent his way. His hands were out in front of him in a placating manner, palms open, side by side, willing me to calm. It wasn't working.
"Luce," he began, his voice rough with emotion. I had never heard him call me by my nick-name. Never. "Hear me out." My Light pulsed, a single beat of warning. There was nothing he could say that would make this OK. "Please, just hear me out."
He didn't wait for me to answer, he didn't wait for me to blast him again with my Light, he charged on as if his life, his world, depended on getting the words out before I turned my back on him. The desperation apparent in his voice.
"I would never put you in a situation like this, if it was not beneficial to us."
Simple words which so easily could have been pushed aside. A tumble of sounds to placate. But, one word stood out amongst the ordinary, one word hung in the air like a chiming bell.
"What did you just say?" I asked in a whisper, my Light diminishing with every consequent breath.
He took a step closer - slowly - recognising I may be about to take the olive branch he had offered. "I would never ask you to do this, if it was not necessary," he said softly.
I shook my head. "No, that's not what you said."
Michel looked uncertain for a moment, but quickly returned to concerned.
I swallowed thickly, my breathing a little rapid in the wake of all that Light, but I also realised my Light had diminished to practically nothing, as had my anger. Replaced by a warmth and a hint of a promise of love.
"You said 'us', Michel." My voice sounded as breathless as me. He looked at me with a little confusion, that slowly morphed to hope.
"I did," he said, simply.
"That is the first time you have ever used 'us' in this regard."
I had got used to Michel's singular focus in all that he did. I knew I was part of his life, I knew he accepted me there, but he had never once voiced the unity that single word evoked now. In all his power plays it had always been about him, or his line. His possessions, his desires, his end game. Logically, I knew that included me. I am Bonded to him, I am a part of him now. But I had never had him admit it openly. To say that simple word which changed absolutely everything for me.
Vampires put a lot of stock in words. They don't say something unless they mean it. They can trick and be devious, they can act any manner of ways to achieve what they want, but words... words hold a weight humans rarely see.
"Ma douce," he said, stepping closer still. He now stood within a foot of me, our eyes locked on each other. A small amount of magenta cast the perfect hue across his iris. "When I see the future, I only see us."
I felt all the tension leave my body in a beautiful rush of warmth, my heart expanded until I was sure it could no longer fit inside my chest. My eyes burned with unshed tears. I had even brought a hand up to my lips, a futile attempt to hold my breath inside. Michel took the last step needed to reach me and tenderly ran a hand down the side of my face. His eyes were swirling violet flecks, in amongst the magenta tint, a single tear traced a crooked pattern down his cheek.
That tear nearly brought me to my knees. Michel never cried. With a small gasp, I let my own tears fall and grabbed him by his shirt collar, bringing my lips to his. Warm breath washed over me, the smell of the ocean, a salty breeze. His scent engulfed me as I wrapped my arms around his neck and delved my tongue between his lips. Our tears mingled together, down our cheeks, across our jaws, into our mouths and he moulded his body to the length of mine, kissing as passionately as I was, giving everything he could back, but barely matching my desire, my happiness, my joy that he felt the same way as me.
I shouldn't have needed that confirmation. We have been together now a relatively long time. There have been hurdles, but we always overcome them. Experience should have told me all I needed to know. But, I am not always confident when it comes to affairs of the heart. I know what I feel for Michel, but it was not easy admitting those emotions. It took a lot of courage, a lot of self doubt and a lot of time. I should have expected the same of Michel, but somehow I hadn't.
I needed him to say it and I hadn't realised how much.
And now he had and my heart simply soared.
"Ma douce," Michel whispered against my neck as he pulled me toward the fireplace and the thick rug that lay in front of the hearth.
He continued to lay kiss upon kiss across my skin as he lowered us both to the floor. "You mean everything to me, I cannot lose you. You are my world."
&n
bsp; After another pause, a swallow, a soft kiss against my cheek. “Tu es ma petite lumière. Ma lumière belle, douce.”
His mouth when he kissed me again was so soft, so careful, so reverent, his tongue worshipful as it swept between my teeth. His hands so appreciative as they roamed my body, touched my skin, caressed my flesh. Then he lay me back down on the plush carpet, the fire crackling to our side and began kissing his way down my neck towards my breasts through the thin material of my T-Shirt. This was the Michel I had missed and craved.
We'd been through a claiming that had stolen his control and made him demanding when it came to sex, but we had made it to the other side and sex had been more than just an animalistic response to a primal urge. It had been gentle and caring and loving and everything you imagined making love to your beloved should be. But, since trying to reconcile after his recent distance - his mistrust, due to Erika betraying him - he had been a different man. Last night and the five hours of glorious but somewhat demanding sex was proof of that. I still loved him, amazing considering what he had been putting me through. But I did. I loved all of him. The caring, considerate lover and that, the vampire determined to prove I was his and no other's. I loved the Light in him and alarmingly, the Dark within too.
Despite loving all of him, however, this was the Michel I knew was always there. Fighting to get out from behind the Dark.
When he slowly entered me - our clothes having somehow been discarded yet I had no recollection how - his eyes held mine, every movement a careful, languid motion, both our breaths seeping out as he fully penetrated me, filling me up beyond capacity, stretching me to accommodate all of him, taking his time and making me feel every hard, long inch.
“Michel,” I whispered, as he began to rock back and forth.
He smiled, his eyes shining a violet and amethyst mix, his fangs slowly elongating and peeking beneath his upper lips.
“What would you have of me, ma lumière belle, douce?” he whispered, running his tongue over my neck, from my pulse point to my ear and then following it up with a gentle nip. “Faster?” He didn't speed up. “Harder?” He didn't increase his force as he gently, slowly thrust again inside me. He pulled back and moved a hand beneath my thigh, bringing my left leg up and over his shoulder, then repeating the process with my right. “Deeper?” He husked, inching inside me. I whimpered and writhed beneath him. “Ah, deeper it is.” He thrust hard and slow, but deeply inside, I could feel him pulsing slightly as far as he had ever been before within, as he held himself still, his breath a little ragged. “Deep enough?” he managed between slightly gritted teeth.
I smiled up at him - probably a little wickedly - and then rolled my own hips against his groin, making him shudder and convulse against me, his eyes closed, his breath hitched, he lowered my legs to wrap them around his body and then he started rocking his hips again, thrusting in and out, rubbing against every spot on me that craved contact. His chest against my breasts, his mouth against my neck, his arm around my shoulders, supporting the bulk of his weight, but cocooning me inside his embrace. I felt engulfed by him; his presence, his scent, him. And I was in heaven.
He pulled back to look at me, still moving a seductive motion inside. "You are beautiful," he whispered. "Perfect," he moaned, closed his eyes again and let himself fall into the rhythm of our bodies combining.
The orgasm came swiftly, every inch of my body receiving beautiful rushes of sensation. From his proximity, his slow, unhurried pace, the smell of him, to the sound of his hitched breath, the small moans that escaped his lips, the swirl of amethyst that graced his eyes when he held mine again. I was consumed by all of him and the orgasm was just my natural reaction to it all.
It was beautiful. This was beautiful. I had never felt as close to Michel as I did right then. The room could have been filled with a choir of singing angels and it wouldn't have been more breathtaking than Michel making love to me right then.
Our pace picked up, still sensual, still tender, but more and more passion was seeping in, as though neither of us could get enough, fast enough. We both wanted more. I felt every single movement, every single part of him, throughout my entire body. But he was slowly losing control. God, how I wanted him to. How I wanted to watch him come.
It built slowly, but seemed to arrive faster than my mind could comprehend. His pace quickening, until, with a groan of pure need and hunger, he began rocking back and forward seeking his own release, wrapped up in his own glorious sensations. His loss of control was captivating. I may have craved the gentler Michel, but this, this ability to make him lose control, was what made me sing. Was what set me free.
“You are impossible to resist,” he breathed out between hard thrusts, letting our bodies start to build a magnificent heat between us, uncurling a wonderful lustful desire right inside and then just as I was sure we were both going to crest that wave, my mind stuttered, like a broken movie reel and the scene shifted.
Michel was still above me, between my legs, seeking his release. And Avery was standing over his broad shoulders watching every movement Michel made. A hunger filled gaze in his amber, ochre and jade eyes. His fangs were down, he seemed aroused. He was enjoying the scene and that made me want to please him more. His eyes met mine, encouraging me further, making me want to seek that final release and let Avery know how good Michel made me feel.
Craving Michel's touch, his embrace, I fell into the moment, savouring every sensation, knowing Avery was enjoying the show. Michel's glistening, sweat soaked body above me, the firelight casting shadows across the ridges and valleys of his smooth skin, his hard length filling me up inside, his muscles clenching with barely controlled desire. I clung to his shoulders, then scraped my fingers down his back. Avery's lips twitched, his eyes watching every move. Then I clasped Michel's rear, pulling him in on every thrust, making him pound into my body, causing him to cry out in ecstasy as our pace quickened further.
Images of Michel fucking me from above assailed my thoughts; erotic, lust-filled images of his hard cock impaling me, my body being slammed back into the rug at my back taking every brutal plunge he subjected me to, his possession of my physical self obvious in the angle the images were given. One shot after another, showing me exactly what Avery was seeing, was witnessing, was enjoying.
Suddenly Avery was crouched beside me, still watching everything Michel was doing intently, his hazel eyes flashing autumnal shades again. His gaze roaming over our bodies, then flicking back to Michel. After what felt like minutes, but was probably only seconds, he shifted his gaze to my eyes. His lips twisted in an unattractive smirk, his tongue came out and licked the corner of his mouth and as though he couldn't help himself, his gaze was pulled back to Michel and what he was doing to me from above. Avery's fangs lengthened slowly, he smiled appreciatively at the scene before him and hissed a purely vampire sound. His hot breath heating my skin, his hand scorching my flesh when he rested it against my own hand on Michel's butt.
Sensations rioted through me; Michel's lust and craze-filled emotions as he let the moment take him completely and also Avery's ardent desire to control me, all of me, from the moment I entered the room that afternoon, to now as he watched me being taken in such a fundamental way. I wanted him to be watching, I wanted him to participate in any way he could, I wanted what he wanted and nothing else.
The room was ripe with the smells of sex, the scents of vampire, Michel's clean cut grass and salty sea spray and now Avery's spicy cardamom and coriander and mint, a Moroccan combination so potent I wanted to whimper as it wrapped around me, drugged me, pulled me under completely and a part of me realised marked me as his in every possible way.
He whispered in my head, call my name in your mind, call for me when you come. His gaze flicked back up at Michel, jade washing through the amber. He licked his lips again, but didn't return his eyes to mine, just whispered in my head, call my name. His timing was perfect, Michel had brought us both to the brink, without hesitation I embraced the orgasm and
shouted Avery's name in my head as he commanded. Michel faltered above me, obviously having gained access to my mind in that instant, but he was too close to the edge to stop, he shuddered against my chest, emptying himself inside as Avery's laugh rang through my head; so wicked and impure and full of Dark.
You will do nicely, Sanguis Vitam Cupitor. Very nicely indeed. And then he walked from the room and left me with me a sense of loss that felt so pure. Michel was pushing away from me and stumbling back on the floor, a look of pure shock and outrage gracing his face. The sense of loss was soon engulfed in a tsunami of confusion. What had just happened?
"What the bloody hell, Lucinda?" Michel shouted, each word branding me like fire.
I looked around the room, trying to get my bearings. Michel must have known Avery was there, he couldn't have missed him at our side.
"Why," Michel ground out between his teeth, his hand raking through his tousled hair, "would you call out his name?" He looked angry, bitter, but underlying it all, hurt.
"He was here," I whispered, he glared back with fists clenched.
"No he wasn't," he said very slowly.
I stared at him for a moment, trying to get my thoughts in line, trying to sort through the chaotic mess of emotions. Avery had been here, Michel had known and we both had wanted to please him, we both enjoyed him watching us making love.
Oh my God! The words slowly sunk into my conscience, and they were not words I would normally think or say. I started to feel a little sick. I would never want anyone to watch such an intimate moment as Michel and I making love.
Avery had just fucked with my mind. He'd had no right to have been there, witnessing this. He had no right to manipulate me like that. And I had been defenceless against his assault. I had believed something untrue, false.
I was so damn sick of men taking control of me. Lutin could could control my body, but not my mind. And Avery could control my mind, but not my body. They were both fucking with me and I had nothing, nothing, in my arsenal to protect myself with.
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