ABVH/X-Men--Tending
Tending
ABVH/X-Men
Chapter 12: Stained Glass
Summary: On top of a case she can't solve and a pending visit from both the Master and Ulfric of Austin, Anita is struggling to save her relationship with Asher after the events on the night of the ballet. Rogue is running after her mutation nearly killed the man she loves. When Asher offers Rogue a job tending bar at Danse Macabre, no one predicts how the newest addition to St. Louis' preternatural community will effect how things turn out.
Major POV's: Rogue, Anita, Asher
Pairings: Rogue/Gambit, Anita/Asher/Jean-Claude, Anita/All her boys.
Spoilers: Post Danse Macrabe (Big Spoilers of the end); bits of X-men comicverse, movieverse, etc. (a conglomeration really)
Disclaimer: LKH owns all things Anita, Marvel owns all things X-Men, I just do this for fun and make no profit whatsoever.
Author's Warning: If you'd rather not read sex or are uncomfortable with it, you can skip from the first break to the second without losing content or plot. Happy reading!
“Ma petite, you will wear a path in my rug.”
Anita ignored him and paced past the bed again.
Jean-Claude’s sigh reached out to her, but she ignored that to. “I like my rug, ma petite.”
She whirled and strode over to stare down at him where he sat on the couch. “Is this another attempt at being funny?”
He looked up at her calmly. “I see it did not succeed.”
“What do I care about your rug when I’ve been sent home like some kid to timeout while there’s a psycho out there that could rip apart any one of our friends or acquaintances?”
“I would think you would have some care for my feelings and possessions.” A quick flash of anger lit his eyes, and then he shrugged. “But as I say, it was a joke, and only meant as such.”
Anita sucked in a breath to tell him where he could stick this new comedy ambition, but held it in. Cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes to really look at him. “Ok, I stormed in here blind, all mad and upset. So what’s up? What’s got you so stressed you’re attempting to make me laugh?”
He lowered his eyes for a moment-very demure looking if it weren’t for the fact that demur and Jean-Claude went together about as well as bad-ass and Larry. “It is nothing, ma petite. As you say, your problems are extensive this evening…”
The anger sloughed off her, and she reached down to cup his cheek in a hand.
“What’s wrong?” The softness in her voice surprised her-it sure as hell surprised Jean-Claude, because he startled-she couldn’t remember the last time that had happened-and looked up at her.
But he didn’t hesitate long, making it obvious that whatever he was about to tell her was weighing on him pretty heavily. “Asher…” He trailed off, eyes going slightly distant as worry clenched her gut and heart.
“Asher?”
His eyes cleared, and he focused on her. “Is here.”
A knock sounded on the door, and, even with the warning, Anita jerked, hand slipping from his cheek.
The door cracked open and Asher’s head peaked around the corner. His eyes flicked past her to Jean-Claude and then back and forth, as if he wanted to look at her but was afraid to. “I thought to make a report…” He focused completely on Jean-Claude then, purposefully not looking at her. “About last night’s matters.”
Jean-Claude waved him in. “Bon. Oui, naturellement. Entrez, entrez…”
Asher walked fully into the room, and she felt the coldness-the stillness of vamps who hadn’t fed-when he skirted past her. She frowned, worried, and stepped away from them, wondering why on earth he hadn’t fed by this time of night. He looked haggard.
He avoided looking at her again until he stopped in front of Jean-Claude, looked up and smiled slightly at her. Almost…shyly
Her heart skipped a beat and a little fizz of hope started up inside her. She’d wanted to talk to him for days, ever since she’d sorted herself out. But she’d been so afraid-would he talk to her, how would he react to what she said, what would happen once they did speak and there was no going back, once they had to make it work.
Jean-Claude stood. “You did not come home this morning, mon ami.”
“What?” Anita took a step back towards them before she realized what she was doing and stopped herself from going any closer. Hugging herself and trying to act nonchalant when the idea of Asher being stranded out in the world without a coffin or someone to watch his back while he slept made her want to shoot something.
Asher glanced at her, waved his hand in a vague gesture that matched that Gallic shrug they both loved so much. “Non, the sun caught me out while still at Rouge’s apartment. I stayed the day there.” He turned to look at her fully for the first time since he’d entered the room. “Thank you for contacting Jean-Claude and explaining the situation.”
Embarrassment filled her, and she had to hug herself harder to keep from squirming under his attention. She’d wanted him to look at her, talk to her, pay attention to her for so long that she didn’t know what to do now that she had it. So she went with the old faithful standby: she hid.
“No problem. I’ll just let you do your reporting and…stuff.” She was halfway to the door when Asher’s uncharacteristically quiet and unsure voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Anita. Please stay…I have…” He sighed audibly behind her and her heart clenched again with hope. “This matter concerns you as well.”
And then stuttered and thudded with disappointment. “Oh. Yeah, sure.” She’d managed half a smile by the time she turned to face them again. “Wasn’t thinking.”
She shrugged, and Asher stared at her, something in his eyes she couldn’t read along with an uncertainty that frightened her. The silence stretched as they studied each other, until Jean-Claude finally spoke.
“How did you find the situation at Rogue’s apartment?”
Asher blinked, life spilling back into him, and looked at Jean-Claude. “She was packing to leave town.”
“Shit.” Anita had assumed that if Asher was here then this whole ‘running’ thing had been nipped in the bud. Obviously not. “Look, I told her that I’d take care of it, I’m not going to let her get carted off to some lab or anything. I’ll handle Dolph.”
Asher was staring at her again, but with a whole new look that she could read clearly: surprise-at the vehemence of her answer. “Why?”
She thought Jean-Claude had explained all of this. “Because she’s afraid he’ll tell someone how she knew…”
“No, ma cherie. I am well aware of what she fears. Why will you not let her ‘get carted off ’ as you say?”
She wanted to give him a sarcastic thanks for rubbing it in how buddy-buddy he and Rogue were, but her pesky new resolve-via Sigmund’s voice-reminded her how she was determined to let Asher live his life the way he needed to.
So she blew out the breath she’d been holding and uncrossed her arms. “It’s very possible that she blew this case wide open, Asher. Almost a month and I haven’t been able to get a damn thing on these guys, but in a touch she’s handed us a key.”
Asher moved up to her, stood only a foot away. “Somehow, I do not think that is the whole of it, Anita.”
She frowned and pushed down her anger-he was forcing her to admit something that annoyed her. It was the only excuse she had for her words coming out a little sharper than necessary. “Well, she’s yours, isn’t she?”
He was very still now, and very close. “Anita, I know what you believe, I know what you walked in on, what I said, but I was angry and hurt and raging and what you…”
“You….” Anita swallowed the bile rising in her throat. She had to cut him off so she could tell him first. Before he said anything that would hurt them anymore. So she set it out there, laid what she hoped was a healing step out on the table using words he’d used to hurt her. “You’re entitled to your Jasons too….”
“Oh, ma cherie.” He shook his head once. “I do not want a Jason. Do not need one when I have you…”
Anita held up a hand to stop him-he was digging himself a hole while trying to make her happy. “You don’t have to say what you think I want to hear…”
He grinned at her, showing off a big flash of fang. “Well, certainly, I may want a taste of the Jason…and others…every once and a while. But that is something I must negotiate myself and a matter best left for when the moment arises and you must decide whether or not to accept it.”
She took a deep breath and tried to relax. They were actually doing this and so far so good. “Micah wants to follow through on sitting down together with Nathaniel and the rest and talking things out…”
Asher’s voice was firm but very, very quiet. “Your Nimir-Raj is a good man.”
She wanted to smile at him for saying so, but this was still serious and she only wanted to have this conversation once, to get it over with. “But that’s not what I’m talking about, Asher. You don’t have to lie because you think I don’t want to hear that even changing things with some of my men won’t be enough to make you happy. Truly happy-not just with me, but in your life too. And that’s what I want-for you to be happy.”
“Anita…” The look in his eyes as he tried to cut her off said that he thought she was fooling herself as usual. And that she was already putting distance between them, starting the process of letting him go.
But she just rolled over his protests. There was no stopping now.
“I saw right into the heart of you, Asher. I may have shoved it away and tried to forget about it because I was scared of what I saw or what that meant I needed to be for you, but even knowing it and not looking at it, I still loved you…maybe even more than I did before. I’m sorry. So sorry that I freaked out as usual. But I’ve had a chance to go over what I saw, to try and really understand what it is you need, and that I need, and what we are to each other. The definition of our love.”
He was closing down, getting ready for her to plant the final stake. He stood there, totally unresponsive with his cold blue eyes and statue body.
She took another step towards him, stared right into his eyes and tried to reassure him that his fears were unfounded. “You aren’t meant to be like Jean-Claude. To try and change to become who you think I want you to be…” She trailed off, looking over Asher’s shoulder and meeting Jean-Claude’s eyes. “I’m not even sure it’s a good thing for him that he did that…”
Some life bled back into Jean-Claude’s face. Where he’d been utterly still, trying not to interrupt, he now walked over to them and looked down at her over Asher’s shoulder, all the love he possessed for her in his eyes. “I want you no other way, ma petite; it is no burden to me to live the way I do with you.”
“I know.” It hurt. To see that love and know how real and complete it was. How hard she’d run from it and how much pain she’d caused-still caused-them both. “I just wonder sometimes how much I’ve hurt you to get us here.”
“That we are here, now, makes every moment worth it.”
The same love she’d felt when he’d told her that she made him more compassionate filled her to overflowing again now, and she smiled at him. His face softened, and he stepped around Asher, took her hand and kissed it.
While that love still shown in her eyes, she turned her face to Asher, one hand still in Jean-Claude’s the other her hand going to Asher’s cheek. “I already have my Jean-Claude. I don’t want another. I want my Asher. And my Asher loves me as much as I love him, but he takes care of the needs I can’t meet by seeking out those who can.”
“Ma cherie, you are all…”
“No, I’m not all you need, Asher. And I’m not meant to be. I am meant to be the one who can love you enough to treasure the time we have together while giving you your freedom at the same time.”
Asher’s face was perfectly blank. “Let me make sure I understand you completely…you are giving me your blessing to have sex-to, as you define it, ‘go all the way’-with others…without you or Jean-Claude present.”
She nodded, putting all of her resolve and support in her eyes even though she couldn’t quite put it into words.
His face broke into something like a mix between astonishment, relief and gratitude. And then utter seriousness, his gaze penetrating hers like he wanted to read the answers to the next question off the back of her skull. “And what may I be for you, Anita?” His sincerity wrapped around her, made her believe for the first time that this really was going to be ok. “To not have to choose between…what could possibly repay you for such a gift?”
“Love me as only you can.” She stepped closer to him, pulling Jean-Claude with her so they all three touched, huddled together in the center of the bedroom. “Be my gift to Jean-Claude, help me mend the wrong I’ve done him by making him happy as only having his oldest friend and lover with him again can. Be our strength. Help us keep our people safe” Her voice broke slightly, but she couldn’t work up the energy to be ashamed or hide. This was too important. “Love us both.”
Leaning forward, Anita kissed the pink trails off his face before whispering against his lips. “Aimez-nous toujours, mon chardonneret.”
“Toujours.” He deepened the kiss, and Anita swayed, almost undone by the touch she’d craved for months. “Toujours.”
Jean-Claude steadied her from behind, buried his head in the crook of her neck so that she felt the wetness of his own cheeks and the warmth of his breath as he inhaled her scent as though he’d take all of her into him at once. She dropped her shields and let his love and absolute joy wash over her. She’d never felt him this happy, this at peace or free of fear. Feeling Asher’s lips against hers, his tongue against hers, feeling Jean-Claude’s body surrounding her, feeling him in her mind, how truly in love with her he was, made every doubt or fear she still had about how her and Asher would work the details of this arrangement out melt away. They would be fine, she would be fine, it would all work out.
There was a real possibility her sudden calm was some as-of-yet-unidentified vampire mind trick-but she didn’t care. She preferred to think she’d finally come to a decision and found some measure of peace in it.
Jean-Claude must have heard her thoughts because he spoke into her mind. Have you hit your head again, ma petite?
Again with the comedy. What did I tell you about getting smart?
Ahhh, then you are channeling someone….
Yeah, Sigmund.
I did not know that Freud was so practical about matters of the heart…
He’s not, but my penguin sure as hell is.
His surprised laughter burst out of his mouth, warm breath and a vibrating rumble against her neck. But that was it-it was pure, just a normal genuine laugh, no fur run all over her skin-and she relaxed into him, a thrill of joy running through her. She wondered if that was what he’d sounded like before Lisette got a hold of him, before power made him and his voice more. She wondered how many people had actually ever heard it…
“Just you and I, ma cherie. Juliana when she was alive…”
Startled, Anita looked at Asher. How did he…
“Your face.” It was like he was reading her mind. “Though I know you pride yourself on being unreadable, there are times when I can read your eyes like the pages of a favorite book.”
She frowned and was about to speak when he went on.
“I am sorry if that bothers you, but it warms my heart to know that I am one of only few who could ever boast such a thing.”
Anita squirmed slightly, not in anger, but in discomfort. She still wasn’t so great at hearing things like that. Hearing how much they said she meant to them.
Jean-Claude raised his face from her neck and chuckled, and this time the laugh ran the length of her spine as though he’d caressed it with a silk-gloved hand. She squirmed again, sandwiched between them, her reaction having nothing to do with either discomfort or anger.
She wanted them. Now.
It wasn’t the ardeur, it was just plain, good old want. She was starving for the feel of Asher against her again and she always craved Jean-Claude-the two of them together…well, she was surprised she’d lasted this long tucked between them.
She turned her head slightly so that she met Jean-Claude’s eyes as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “I want to do Asher like we did Auggie.”
Jean-Claude’s eyes went wide with surprise; Asher went deathly still against her. A long moment of shocked silence passed and then she was assaulted on both sides by pure, pleased, male laughter.
How was a girl supposed to stand up against that? She closed her eyes and pressed back against Jean-Claude’s body.
His voice whispered in her ear, making her shiver. “Oui, I believe that you do indeed want this, ma petite. I do not feel the ardeur.”
“Are you sure, Anita?” Asher’s breath tickled her other ear. “You have never wanted such a thing before.”
“Believe me, I very much want it now. No ardeur, no running after.” She leaned her face slightly to the right so the skin of her cheek slid against Asher’s scars. When he stilled, she rolled her head, never losing contact with the skin she’d missed so much, and put her lips against his ear. “If it was that good with Auggie, what’ll it be like with two men that I truly love?”
In perfect tandem, both men breathed against either side of her neck, sighing their answering desire. Jean-Claude traced a fang gently, lovingly, against her skin while Asher leaned back and looked her in the eyes.
“Mon Dieu, woman. You will make my heart burst and be the second death of me, truly.” And then his lips were just suddenly on hers, and he was devouring her. She couldn’t get enough of him, fast enough. She needed to be closer…
“Merde!” Asher jerked back, a look of pure horror on his face. “I have not fed.”
“So I noticed…” Anita blinked, trying to clear her addled thoughts. “Why?”
Asher looked away; she imagined he would have blushed with embarrassment if he’d had any blood to color his skin with.
Jean-Claude snorted-since when did Mr. Suave snort?-and stood up straight behind Anita, tucking the top of her head beneath his chin and sliding his arms around her. “Asher has spent this past week languishing in despair. Feeding, staying alive, are of trivial importance when engaging in such pursuits.”
Asher glared at him. “You know very well that I could not…”
Jean-Claude’s quite laugh vibrated through Anita’s back, and Asher tsked in disgust and anger.
“You spend too much time with that little pomme of yours, Jean-Claude; his sarcasm is not attractive on you.”
Anita nodded. “Thank you, I’ve been telling him that for weeks.”
Asher shook his head, trying to smile at her. “I will go feed and come back. It will not take long, just…” He stared at her as though she was a piece of candy being stolen right out of his hands while he watched. “Just do not move, do not…mon dieu do not change your mind…please…”
Anita fought not to laugh at the panic in is voice and grabbed his arm as he tried to walk away. “No.”
His shoulders sagged in defeat, and she knew he thought she’d changed her mind already.
“You’ll feed off me.”
He jerked away from her, but she wouldn’t let his arm go and he had to stop struggling or risk hurting her. “No. I will not. I can not. I will hurt you again.” Panic slid into his voice. “I am not ready…”
“You’ll never be ready, Asher. There’ll always be some excuse. You have to get past this. It was one moment; you had a major power jump. You will not do it again.” She shook his arm on each word of that last sentence, trying to shake sense into him.
He just stared at the wall, refusing to look at her and Jean-Claude.
“She is right, mon ami. You will not hurt her again.” Jean-Claude tightened his arms around her in a brief hug. “You have control now, Asher. And besides, I am here and I will not let you hurt her.”
Asher looked at Jean-Claude, the fevered fear in his eyes bleeding away as they stared at each other. After a few moments, Asher took a single breath and nodded his head.
Anita turned her head, making Jean-Claude lift his chin off her hair and look down to meet her eyes. “Will you hold me?” His eyes studied her face, and she felt Asher tense against her. So she made it perfectly clear that this lingering fear wasn’t about what Asher might do. “Asher isn’t the only one afraid of losing control.”
Jean-Claude’s eyes softened. “Of course, ma petite. You are safe here.” He tightened his arms around her again as he said it, and she smiled up at him, certain in the knowledge that what he said was true. He was her safety, and she snuggled back into it, into him, like he was a living blanket.
She was, in fact, so snuggled into Jean-Claude that Asher wrapped his arms around Jean-Claude instead of her so that he could be close enough. She had the distinct feeling that neither one of them minded that at all. She leaned her head back against Jean-Claude’s chest, tilting it slightly to give Asher a clean line, and Jean-Claude’s hand swept back and held her hair.
Asher gave her a small look that asked if she was sure and when she smiled and nodded, he returned the gesture before he struck.
She tensed and then melted back against Jean-Claude, lost in the pure sensation that Asher’s bite filled her body with. He was oh so careful, rolling her only a little, carefully gauging how much he took. Still, she shuddered under his mouth, floated in a sea of warmth and desire that threatened to burn her alive if she tried to reach out and grab a hold of it. The pleasure built in her until she was on the edge, just a breath away from release…
And Asher pulled away, leaving her heavy with need while he stumbled over to the bed. He sat down, shaking slightly, but Anita didn’t really notice much else; she was trapped in Jean-Claude’s arms, left on the brink and she needed…oh God, she needed…and they weren’t letting her…why? She struggled slightly, reached a hand towards Asher and dropped it just as quickly, pulling enough of herself back from the edge to tell herself to get a grip and relax…
“Shhh, ma petite.” Jean-Claude’s mouth was cool against the fevered skin of her forehead.
But, even though she was back in control, she still burned, still needed.
He turned her in his arms so their eyes met. “Be easy. We neither one are through with you yet…”
His eyes burned, his voice had a predatory edge to it she hadn’t ever heard. The words-words she had a feeling he’d said before-sent a shiver of fear through her: they were Belle’s matched pair and had conquered men and women together more times than she cared to know…
The fear spiked when she saw Asher, not shaking anymore but with that same predatory gleam in his glowing husky eyes, walk up behind Jean-Claude. But instead of sending her running like it always had before, the fear made her stomach clench with pleasure. It was as though her trust and love for them ran right beneath it-she was free to let the fear push through her, ride her as the idea of these two conquering her…
She was suddenly between them and lips were everywhere, hands were gently leading her to the bed, helping her slide up onto the satin sheets. Her last coherent thought was that she might finally have an idea of how Nathaniel could find such peace in surrender.
OoOoOoOoOoOo
Somehow, when all the clothes were gone and the hands started exploring again, she ended up kneeling on the bed between Asher and Jean-Claude. Not that she minded, but it wasn’t what she’d marked down on the itinerary tonight. Well, at least not yet.
They were mirroring each other perfectly, Asher’s hands in front, Jean-Claude’s behind-where one went the other followed. It was driving her slowly insane, and she grabbed Asher’s hands, effectively stopping the game and Jean-Claude’s exploration as well.
“Enough of that. This isn’t what we talked about. I’m not supposed to be the one in the middle.
Asher grinned and held their still-locked hands up and out to their sides so they both resembled crosses. “But we like you between us, ma cherie…”
“Me too.” She shuddered as Asher dipped forward and ran his tongue lightly between her breasts. “But it’s not what I need….”
Jean-Claude placed a kiss between her shoulder blades and then crawled around her to kneel beside Asher, facing her. “And what is it that you need, ma petite?”
“I need Asher happy…”
“I am happy.” He grinned against her skin, before sitting back up so she could see his eyes.
She spoke to Jean-Claude, as though Asher hadn’t interrupted her, and pressed her hands to Asher’s chest. “I need him whole.” Pushed him gently backwards until he had to slide his legs out from under himself and lay back against the bed. “I need this not feeding business done.” She straddled him on all fours so the only part of them that touched were her knees against his outer thighs. “I need him warm.” She kissed him lightly and pulled back. “I need him home.” Another kiss. “I need him between us.”
Asher stared up at her in disbelief. “You truly mean to do as you said…”
Her only answer was a thorough kiss that melded their mouths together while she still kept their bodies apart. She came out of it pulling his bottom lip slightly between her teeth and sat back, her butt settling right above his knees.
“I’m ready to go.” She ran a hand lightly, a mere brush, down the hard length of him and grinned when he moaned and closed his eyes. “You’re ready to go. Jean-Claude?”
Anita rolled off of Asher and settled against his side, running a hand across his chest.
Jean-Claude looked down at them from where he still knelt, a contentment and peace in his eyes that made something ease somewhere deep inside her. “Oui, ma petite. I am ready.”
His eyes swept across Asher in a hungry line that held so much emotion, so much she knew he’d struggled to hide from her all this time. He crawled up from the foot of the bed and mimicked the pose above Asher that Anita had abandoned, one of his knees and hands sliding in snugly between Asher and Anita’s bodies.
“Mon chardonneret.” It was the softest of whispers, a prayer, and it’s last syllables ended against Asher’s lips in a feathering equally as light and gentle.
A silent sob wracked the length of Asher’s body and then he was still again, Jean-Claude’s mouth moving against his hungrily, demanding all of his attention. Anita reached a hand up and swept the curtain of Jean-Claude’s hair over his shoulder, tucked an errant strand behind his ear so that she could see better.
Jean-Claude caught the hand as it fell away and broke from their kiss to turn his head. The pleasure in both of their eyes as they looked at her-the exquisite, full, expression, as though a piece of themselves she hadn’t known was missing had been returned-was all the proof she would ever need that this was right. This was whole and good and perfection…
Jean-Claude threaded his fingers with hers and pulled their joined fist to his lips, brushing them against the back of her hand. He didn’t need words, the marks were open fully and she knew…she knew it all. And he knew she was really here with them, this wasn’t something she’d pull back from later. This was it.
Keeping their hands joined, he placed them by Asher’s head and leaned down to kiss him softly before speaking French against those lips again.
She couldn’t follow what they said, but both laughed-a leisurely, deep rumble that made her smile. They conversed that way for a few minutes. And instead of getting upset or feeling left out, she only felt a deep satisfaction fill her as she lay on her side, her hand still in Jean-Claude’s, her lovers happy. So very happy and unguarded-themselves.
Another kiss and Jean-Claude suddenly turned serious, his words deliberate, his hand clenching hers as though saying them hurt. With the marks that wide open, it didn’t matter that she couldn’t have translated otherwise…The memory unfolded around her and she heard and saw Asher above Jean-Claude in the flickering light of a log fire in a tiny room made of the same wood, felt Juliana naked and warm beside him when the cold night pressed against their meager walls. She felt Jean-Claude’s hope as Asher said the same words-their meaning plain and glorious:
She is my human servant, but you have her love and mine. Will you not be hers? Be mine? Be ours? Will you not be our home, our refuge, our family?
The memory barely dissolved before Asher surged up off the bed and fisted a hand in Jean-Claude’s hair, pressing their lips and bodies as close together as he could. Jean-Claude dropped her hand and mirrored Asher, one hand in the gold hair, one arm like a band around the other man’s lower back while Asher’s went around his shoulders.
She had to hold her breath against the overwhelming desire that flooded her, watching the two of them try to crawl into one another. She rolled fully onto her back and basked in the warmth until they broke apart in a flurry of harsh French she had no hope of following and turned power-drowned eyes to her.
They stared at her like a pair of hungry leopards for the space of a heartbeat, and then Jean-Claude’s hand was stroking down Asher’s back, caressing his ass, making Asher shudder even though neither of them looked away from her.
Her heart thudded in her chest as Jean-Claude finally spoke, his hand making another languid sweep along Asher’s body. “Go to her.”
And he did.
In a single fluid motion, Asher descended on her, his hands tracing every curve, his lips following them everywhere. Her own hands retraced Jean-Claude’s caresses down Asher’s back, across his ass. And her eyes met his just as Asher parted her legs with his hands and a kiss on her inner thigh.
Her body shivered in anticipation. Finally
But his kisses went lower, down to her knees, then back up to her stomach.
She grabbed his hair and pulled his head up, catching the pleased laughter in his eyes. “No more foreplay. I want you in me. Now.”
The laughter died and he moved up, kissing her neck. Whispering against her skin. “No blood. Just me.” He pulled back and looked at her. “Love me for me..”
There was no question…“Toujours.”
He echoed her, replying against her mouth, “Toujours,” at the same time he slid into her with one hard thrust that made her scream into his mouth.
He broke away from the kiss with a moan and stared down at her, unwilling or unable to move. There was too much emotion on his face…his eyes were solid blue, bled completely with power, glowing softly like someone was holding a flashlight behind them. In that moment, she saw him cast as one of the stained glass windows in her mother’s Catholic church. Translucent with passion, filled with meaning and the past, vibrant, sharp in color, and always so sad, so poignant in his beauty.
She knew the moment that Jean-Claude took him-that stained glass shattered on a whispered, "Jean," and little ruby shards fell from his eyes, splattered against her chest like quick kisses before he reared back, a hand groping over his shoulder. He finally found the back of Jean-Claude’s head and pulled--until his chin came over Asher’s shoulder--pressing their cheeks together.
They stayed frozen for a moment, Asher now only half sheathed in her, his eyes closed and tears snaking down his face. Jean-Claude’s eyes closed, his head turning to press his lips to Asher’s scars. Anita just watched them, her body arched up to meet Asher, her muscles trembling with more than the effort it took to hold herself in place so she didn’t lose any more of the wonderful length filling her.
And then, because the marks were still open, she heard the thought that Asher couldn’t hold in, that escaped his hard fought control and ran along the link that allowed him to speak mind to mind with Jean-Claude.
I thought you would not catch me… And the image of him pressed against this very bedroom door, desperate as the ardeur raged just out of his reach, the emotions, the pain as he believed for the first time that it was hopeless, he had truly screwed up and fallen and, this time, there would be no one there to catch him.
Anita whispered, “No.”
Just as Jean-Claude echoed her sentiment, “Never…”
The sob that ran the length of Asher’s body was not quiet this time, it was gut wrenching…a sound from some place so deep in the soul that Anita doubted he even knew it existed.
She sat up, the angle sliding him fully inside her again, and wrapped her arms around him as far as they would go, her hands touching Jean-Claude’s sides.
Jean-Claude mirrored her, and they wrapped Asher up in their bodies, willed him to believe that his fears were so very wrong, that they were sorry, that they would never, ever let him fall again.
Asher shuddered as he tried to swallow the sobs and tears back down, and Anita lay back, taking both of them with her until she cradled the heavy weight of both Asher and Jean-Claude on top of her.
Anita let her hands slide off of Jean-Claude and used them to press Asher’s head to her chest-his scarred cheek against her breast. Jean-Claude only waited a moment before he lifted his upper body up and stared down at her, their eyes meeting over Asher’s head.
And then Jean-Claude moved, a graceful and gentle thrust that sent a shiver through Asher and made him move inside her. Her breath caught at the feel of him, at the sight of Jean-Claude moving above them both, searching for a rhythm. And then Asher lifted his head and his chest and joined that rhythm, matching each of Jean-Claude’s thrusts with one of his own.
Anita tried to arch up beneath their weight to meet him, her moan lost in his mouth as he claimed her lips with his, her tongue with his. She let Jean-Claude take the lead, surrendered to their steady, languid motions and let them rock her slowly toward the edge.
Her hands reached blindly behind Asher’s back and Jean-Claude found them, gripped them. Her eyes opened while Asher moved his mouth down her neck, to her throat and down to claim each breast in turn. She stared at Jean-Claude who kissed his way across Asher’s shoulders and then looked up and met her gaze, stared at her, melted into her through the marks as though they had beasts to share and ran his power, his essence, through her just as she ran her own through him like a loving hand.
He cried out and threw his head back for a second, his rhythm faltering and causing Asher to groan with her nipple in his mouth. The sensation made her drop one of Jean-Claude’s hands and rake her nails down Asher’s shoulder. She had to-had to do something because she was falling apart. And then Jean-Claude jerked his gaze back down to hers-his eyes almost black with power, with lust-and gave up all pretense of making this last, of savoring the moment.
Thrusting hard and fast, he leaned down and put his lips next to Asher’s ear, never breaking this new rhythm pounding into her. “Together, non?”
Never faltering either, Asher turned his head to look at Jean-Claude. “Oui, together.”
And Jean-Claude kissed him, hungry and fierce, one hand fisted in Asher’s hair, the other still gripping Anita’s. The sight of it, the feel of that kiss, sent Anita over the edge, her climax claiming her a heartbeat before Asher came inside her in a rush of warmth, and Jean-Claude cried out again, his power singing through the room.
She came down slowly, shaking her head, trying to catch her breath and put herself back together, but Asher’s mouth was on hers again, and he kissed her over and over, quick pecks as he rolled to the side, slipping from her as he went.
Jean-Claude was suddenly on her other side, an arm and leg thrown over her and partly onto Asher, his face settling into the crook of her neck. He breathed deeply, taking as much of the unique scent of all three of them together into him as he could and blowing hot breaths back onto her neck.
Her arms and hands were trapped in the tangle of bodies, but she didn’t care, she just lay there and let Asher touch her, kiss her, and Jean-Claude hold her.
Asher’s kisses slowed, became longer and softer, and Jean-Claude seemed to doze-or at least zone out-for a moment with his nose still buried in her skin.
No one spoke. Words just weren’t enough, couldn’t come close to expressing the emotions running through her, through them all. Anita was content with the feel of Jean-Claude heavy in her mind and against her body and the taste of Asher on her lips.
Eventually, Jean-Claude stirred, raising his head to look at Asher who broke from kissing Anita’s shoulder to kiss him, a light, quick exchange. And then Jean-Claude untangled himself from them both and slid off the bed, walking to the bathroom. He came back out wrapped in his robe, an easy smile on his face.
“We will not be leaving this room tonight, oui?”
Asher looked down at Anita, who just smiled back up at him in response, and answered for them both. “Oui.”
“Then I will make the necessary arrangements and see that we are not disturbed. Have you eaten tonight, ma petite? Shall I have Jason fetch you some dinner.”
Anita grinned, a sudden thought springing into her head. “Yeah…we need chocolate sauce, blackberries and a bottle of wine, that Spanish one you’ve been bugging me to try.”
Jean-Claude stared at her, his eyes just a teensy bit wider than normal. “If that is what you desire…”
“It is.”
His grin was quick and then gone. He wasn’t stupid enough to argue with afterglow-induced whimsy. “Bon. I will return as soon as possible. Although it may take some time to track down my pomme.” He couldn’t quite hide the smile as he finished the sentence and slipped out the door.
Asher turned away from watching him leave and smiled down at her. “I believe that was his oh-so subtle way of telling us to enjoy our time alone.”
“He’s a real matchmaker, huh?”
Asher laughed and slid a hand down her side. “I can not stop touching you, ma cherie.”
“Then don’t.” She ran her hands across the scars on his chest, knowing she didn’t want to stop touching him either.
His hand skated across her stomach, making her shiver. “I have been like a starved thing these months. My skin craves you, my lips need you, your taste.” He kissed her, melding their lips together as he ran a hand up either side of her.
He pulled away, his lips curling into a sad smile. “I have missed you.”
“Same here.” She reached up and pushed his hair behind his ear. And decided that that was enough of the past and gloom. Her grin resurfaced. “So, you’re probably thinking I’m pretty rude for asking for stuff to taste for Jean-Claude when you can’t taste it too.”
“Non, not at all.” He shook his head and tried to kiss her again, but she playfully turned her head away and then back so she could speak against his lips.
“I figured you wouldn’t mind if I was licking the chocolate off of you at the time.”
His laughter thrilled through her as he wrapped her in his arms and rolled them so she ended on top, kissing the whole way.
OoOoOoOoOo
Anita sat on the couch, her eyes tracing over and over Asher’s body lying lifeless against the crimson sheets. The hair dryer turned off in the bathroom and Jean-Claude slipped back into the bedroom, still in his robe as he had been since they’d finished their communal bath and tucked Asher in for the day.
She stretched as he walked over to the couch, nearly all of her muscles deliciously tight and tired as only a full night of play could make them. She’d had little sleep, only dozing for a couple of hours at a time-once between her men, and another holding Asher between her and Jean-Claude, rocked to sleep by the gentle song of them whispering French to each other.
She looked up at him, letting how relaxed she was show in her eyes. “Will you try to sleep?”
He glanced at Asher and then back to her. “It does no good. Once I am awake…” He shrugged.
“I’m sorry.” She did this, being near him. And it hadn’t ever really occurred to her that it could be a bad thing.
He sat beside her on the couch, lifting her feet and resettling them in his lap. “I have lost day after day to the death that takes us all, ma petite. What you give me is a gift. Just one of so many.”
She fought the blush and lost, but succeeded in not looking away. She could stare down all sorts of bad guys, she could dam well take a compliment.
She felt his laughter through the marks and knew he’d heard the struggle going on in her head. She was on the verge of frowning and telling him to stuff it when he began to message her feet-manipulative bastard.
“I do not wish to poke at things, as you like to say, ma petite. But what did bring on this sudden…willingness to compromise with Asher?”
“I told you, Sigmund and I had a chat.” She shrugged. “I worked out all my issues. Sorry it took so long.” She did look away then.
But he tugged on her foot until she turned back to look at him. “Do not be sorry. Never be sorry for anything that brought us to this point.”
Her smile came without thought. “No. Never sorry.”
He leaned down to kiss the tip of her big toe-an absurdly sweet gesture that warmed her heart.
And then other thoughts from her Sigmund confessions filtered through her mind, and she couldn’t stop the anxiety from leaking into her scent, through the marks, before she could stuff it down.
Jean-Claude’s hands squeezed her feet gently. “Ma petite, what is wrong?”
She was afraid to start another round of sharing-she felt raw, stripped of all her shields and defenses by the night’s onslaught of emotion. There would be no place to hide inside if she lost it right now, and appearing that vulnerable to anyone just plain freaked her out. But they had to talk about it. They had to, or it would always haunt her-his pain, her doubt…
It would poison everything.
“I…” She swallowed and looked down at her hands for a moment. And then met his gaze. “I know it’s hard. I know it’s not fair…I know that. I can handle the idea of Asher needing others, like I said I'm at peace with it…But the thought of you with another woman…”
She trailed off, shaking her head, the tears and the pain choking her throat. She knew this had been a bad idea-she may have let the tears out for Sigmund, but she couldn’t here. Not in front of Jean-Claude, not about something that must seem so silly to him.
But he didn’t look like he thought it was silly. In fact he looked as serious as she’d ever seen him-maybe even a little bit angry.
“I will say this one time more and never again, ma petite. This will be the end of it. Do we understand each other?”
She bristled slightly at his tone, but just nodded, figuring he was entitled to be a little pissy that she almost expected him to cheat on her.
“It will not happen, ma petite. Not unless you ask, or I am forced. And I have every faith that you will never allow me to fall into any position again where I might be forced.”
He looked straight at her when he said the last, and it was like learning that he expected her not to let him end up like Belle all over again. Only this burden she didn’t mind, because she’d already been carrying it for years without him having to ask.
She’d never let anyone force him to do anything again.
His eyes caught the light, and she saw that they were tinged pink, realized he’d heard her clearly through the marks. It was the closest to crying she’d ever seen him outside of a memory, and she was up on her knees, crawling into his lap before she knew what she was doing. She felt his fleeting surprise, then his delight that she would seek comfort in him and want to give it in return.
They sat there for a few moments, silently comforting each other, and she’d begun to doze slightly when she heard his voice next to her ear. “Would you like me to move us to the bed, ma petite? Or I can call Jason if you wish to be driven home so you may sleep there.”
She hesitated, unsure how to say that she never wanted to move. That this was the only place on earth she wanted to be in that moment.
But she didn’t have a clue how to say something like that, so she shrugged and ducked her head beneath his chin, trying hard to burrow into him. “I love Asher. I love Micah, Nathaniel….all of you. You know that. You know how much…”
“I do ma petite.”
“It’s just…I’d like to spend some time just with you right now. If that’s ok.”
His arms tightened around her until it was almost painful, but she didn’t care. She reveled in the feel of it, the love and the safety. She had them, in this moment she had them and no one could take them away.
“It is more than ok, ma petite.” Jean-Claude sighed-a happy sound-and his arms loosened enough that she could breath more easily, but not so she couldn’t feel the strength, even the shade of possessiveness in his embrace. It usually annoyed her that her men were all stronger than her, usually pissed her off when any of them tired to pull the possessive crap.
Today it was home.
OoOoOoOoOoOo
“Aimez-nous toujours, mon chardonneret.”: Love us always, my goldfinch.
Toujours: always