masterofstlouis | Cerulean Sins

Cerulean Sins - Chapters 10-13

Jean-Claude can't seem to bring himself to sit up straight. He's slumped in his chair, hands folded over his stomach, and so very still. That pleading look from Asher as he'd taken Musette's hand, watching as Musette hurt Asher, drawing his second's blood -- his Asher's blood -- had been enough to rip open wounds he'd rather had remained blissfully ignorant of. But now they were gaping inside him, and the knowledge that it had been Anita to set Asher up for it... that Anita had set Asher up for far worse than just being publicly stabbed...

He is both defeated and furious.

He is also tired. Simply tired. Each step forward for him left him three steps behind by the time Anita was through.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Asher shivers, deepening the kiss even as he answers Jean-Claude.

Mon chat knows you and I have been intimate once. He asked that if I had you, he would be allowed to approach Damian with the same intent. He... Asher hesitates, unsure. He will understand, about Anita..

Asher breaks the kiss at last, looking over at Jean-Claude, taking Anita's hand. He leads Anita to the bed, standing in front of Jean-Claude, his hand clutching Anita's tightly.

Jean-Claude gives the slightest nod. It was Asher's choice, and he cannot say he is the least bit sorry he chooses as he does. Jean-Claude reaches out to take Asher's other hand, his eyes darting Anita before settling back on Asher. "There is one thing you must know, mon ami, before this goes further. I am controlling ma petite's ardeur, but there will come a time when I lose control myself." He's counting on it, actually. "When that happens, I make no promises for what might happen."

Asher's voice is deceptively calm, and he pushes thoughts of Nathaniel aside to focus on Jean-Claude, on what is happening here, in this room. He nods understanding at Jean-Claude's words.

"I believe that it is not just the ardeur that drives Anita to take me to bed," he murmurs, hoping that it's not merely Jean-Claude's memories, either. "It matters not whether it rises."

Now his eyes slide to Anita. "Ma petite, you must set the terms of this," he says. "I have no desire to do something that will make you uncomfortable."

Jean-Claude needs to know just how much freedom he is allowed with Asher, because if Anita is not clear, he will take all Asher will give.

Anita looks between the two of them.

"Hold back the ardeur as long as possible," she whispers. If she was going to be with them both, she'd like to enjoy it as much as she is able before the ardeur steals all reason. "As for... what you're also asking..."

She feels awkward and cruel, having to lay out rules for sex.

"I..." Her cheeks again flush. "No kissing on the mouth. No touching each others groins or butts."

God, could this be any more embarrassing?

Asher raises his eyebrows, but says nothing. To be this close and not have him fully...had he known there would be these limits, he would have taken more of Jean-Claude in Milliways, would have asked for more kisses, more touches.

As it is, he merely nods, his gaze moving from Anita to Jean-Claude and back again. Tonight they can play by Anita's rules - she will cave eventually.

"We need to start," Anita says, that awkwardness still there in her. "I don't want to be in the middle of anything when the two of you die, and dawn's in just over two hours."

That? Would just be too much. She still gets squicked when Jean-Claude does it, so she's very sure she doesn't want to be in the bed when they both die.

"Two hours?" Asher shares an amused glance with Jean-Claude, a very masculine chuckle slipping from his lips. "That is barely enough time."

Jean-Claude echoes that laugh, and Anita thinks she's never heard it from him. It's that laugh that men only have when talking to other men about a woman... or sex.

She watches him crawl onto the bed, eyes following the curve of his legs up to his ass. It distracts her so much that when Jean-Claude turns and offers his hand to her, she stares at it for several seconds before realizing what it is.

Asher squeezes her hand gently, reassuringly, though he's just as distracted by Jean-Claude's obscenely tight trousers as she is. He kneels on the foot of the bed, scared to move closer.

Jean-Claude is as seemingly oblivious as ever of the effect his appearance has on others. He gestures again for Anita's hand, and this time she takes it and allows him to draw her onto the bed beside him. His other hand motions to Asher, entreating him to join them as well.

Anita slips a little on the silk sheets, and it takes both of them to catch her before she slides right off onto the floor. Jean-Claude catches Asher's eye and knows that they are both remembering the same thing -- Jean-Claude falling onto a silver mirror of the Duchess Vicante's when he was meant to be seducing her. It hadn't seemed so amusing at the time, of course, but now there is a shared smile passed between them over it.

Asher smiles brightly in return, an open, happy smile that only Nathaniel has seen, in recent years. Though this night comes with conditions, though Asher is fearful of it only being the one night, he cannot hide the simple happiness he feels at being this close to Jean-Claude, at being allowed to touch and hold him.

The memory of a not-so-suave Jean-Claude, of course, only adds to his slight giddiness.

Anita is slammed by the memory of that smile. Of when they had seen it often. It was a flood of images that Jean-Claude gives to her. That same smile when Asher's hair had been in long locks and the hat on his head graceful with feathers. That smile by candlelight. That smile while they had played chess while Julianna sewed by the fire. That smile in a spill of clean sheets and Julianna's laughter.

It has been too long since they'd seen that smile.

Jean-Claude sweeps away the bedspread, revealing sheets the same color as Asher's eyes, and Anita briefly wonders about that choice. She watches as Asher remains kneeling, and she can see his pulse pounding in his throat. She can taste his fear, like something in the back of her tongue, and she knows she can swallow it, savor it.

It is the part of her that is Richard's, the part of her that is beast, and a low growl spills from her lips as her eyes remain fastened on Asher's throat.

Jean-Claude places a hand on Anita's shoulder, tenderly. "Control, ma petite. I know other hungers are rising, but you must fight to hold on only a little longer."

Anita's gaze moves from Asher's throat to his eyes. Husky-blue eyes that are filled with fear, but not of her beast, not of blood spilled. Fear of what this could mean, and what could be taken away from him. It gives her a way to center herself, Asher's fear, but she knows it won't last.

Whatever they were going to do, it had to be done now.

"I want to see you naked," she whispers to Asher, taking his hand and tugging a little, but he resists. "I want to see you undressed without the ardeur riding me, but we have to hurry."

Jean-Claude lays back onto the pillows and reaches out for Asher. "Come, my dearest friend," he says in French. "The hour grows late, and if this is to be done, it must be done quickly. Come to my arms, and let us have tonight, and damn whatever else may follow."

Asher goes to Jean-Claude, letting himself be turned around until he's lying back in Jean-Claude's arms, his head on his friend's shoulder.

"You always were a charmer, my blackbird," he teases, smiling softly as he lies back, still nervous, watching as Anita crawls up the bed towards them.

Anita watches them for a moment, the way they sit against one another, and she almost -- almost -- regrets the terms she's set. It seems perfectly natural for them, for Asher to be held by Jean-Claude...

And then she realizes everyone is being so very careful, and if they keep it up, nothing will be done. Someone has to get naked, and she supposes that someone will be her. She slides off the bed, kicking off her heels and shedding her jacket. Then, before she can lose her nerve, she removes her blouse and slips out of her skirt and stockings, standing briefly in just her satin navy bra and panties set.

Anita then crawls back onto the bed, meeting Asher's gaze once more as she taps on his ankles, demanding without a word that he part his legs.

Asher opened his legs a little, still unsure, watching Anita carefully as she slides between his legs and pushes her way upwards. His legs slowly part around her, Jean-Claude's thighs pressed to the outside of his. He bites his lip as Anita reaches her destination, her hands pulling at the buttons on his shirt as her knees press against the tops of his thighs, nearly skimming his crotch.

Normally he would slow things down but he's aware time is short tonight, much as he may want all the time in the world to explore both their bodies.

Edited 2009-08-19 19:44 (UTC)

She makes quick work of Asher's shirt, and with Jean-Claude's help, they manage to pull it from his torso. Anita's hands slide up his stomach and chest, her thumbs flicking over his nipples as she takes in the absolute perfection of him.

"I would love to spend hours on you, but I don't think that'll happen tonight. Next time," she whispers, leaning in to lick at the hollow of his throat.

Asher shudders even at that soft touch, unused to this easy intimacy, to having the control taken out of his hands. He loves Nathaniel dearly, but sometimes he tires of giving permission for everything, for prompting his lover. He wants to tell Anita not to guarantee there will be a next time, but he can't bring himself to sour the mood.

Tilting his head back as Anita laps at his throat, Asher presses his face into Jean-Claude's hair, breathing him in, a soft sound caught in his throat.

Jean-Claude holds Asher's back against his chest, sliding his hands down Asher's arms. The sight of Anita kissing Asher combined with the feel of Asher's skin against him is incredibly erotic. And even though he could watch the two of them like that for hours, time is their enemy now. He shifts away from Asher slightly, just enough to get his own shirt off and add it to the growing pile of clothing beside the bed.

Anita moves down Asher's chest, her lips teasing a nipple while her hands slide up and down his thighs. He tastes warm to her, smelling of the expensive French soap he uses on his skin. Of the woods, something musky and clean at the same time. She likes the smell, perfectly Asher, and she moans softly as her tongue reaches the waist of his trousers.

She traces the line of cloth, nipping at his side before sitting up enough to press her hand to him. "I think these need to come off now."

Asher's moan echoes hers, and he spreads his thighs wider apart, arching his hips up towards her questing mouth, his hands clutching at Jean-Claude. He has one hand on Jean-Claude's thigh, the other reaching over his shoulder, fingers tangling in dark curls.

"Yes, cher," he breathes, lifting his hips so that she can pull them down.

Anita unfastens the pants and begins to work them down Asher's legs. There's no graceful way to pulls pants off someone, and so Anita doesn't even worry about it. Besides, her attention is caught by the fact that Asher is not wearing underwear.

His sex is semi-erect, laying thick and long against him, and as Anita tosses his shoes and pants to the floor, she licks her lips. No matter how little time there was, she was going to enjoy this, she was going to ensure he enjoys this.

Her eyes dart up to Jean-Claude and Asher, at how Jean-Claude holds him -- like a hesitant lover, and she knows that's all her own fault -- but she can't find it in her to care. Not now. She leans back down, her mouth finding his knee, and her tongue flicks out, tracing the back of it slightly. Through Jean-Claude, Anita knows what a lover would of Asher's body, and she makes the best use of it she can.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject