His Pride and Joy


Author's note:
His Pride and Joy  by Leslie G. S.   (m/f/m)

This being a continuation of the events begun in "A Healing Touch."
The first story (m/m), not required to understand this one.
Standard disclaimers as to who and what belong to whom.

Thanks, Karies, for beta-reading this for me.

****
Lacroix arrived to himself again, Nicholas's head snuggled against
his shoulder, with Janette standing over them where they lay on the
hearth rug.

"Mon dieu, Lacroix, in the front room now.  I hope you haven't
ruined my carpet."  She swung her cape off her shoulders, flicking
the droplets of melting snow onto the two wastrels sprawled on her
best Persian rug.

"He started it," the man drawled, stretching out one languid arm to
her.  "Come, don't stop with your cloak.  Continue."

Nicholas chuckled, when after a small moue of annoyance, Janette
smiled impishly and began adding her garments to theirs already
scattered across the floor.

---From "A Healing Touch," which now continues....

*****
"Nicolas, you brute," Janette said, pouting.  "Get up and help me
with the lacing."

Laughing, Nicholas leapt up and with practiced fingers, began
undoing the ties up the back of her gown.  He leaned forward to
nuzzle her nape and smiling, she turned her head, arching her long
neck.  His hands became still on the silken strings, as with a
slight catch of his breath, he set his lips on the pale curve of
her throat.  Her eyes closed and her low hum of pleasure spurred
him on.

Lacroix lay stretched out on the rug, one hand behind his head, the
other resting lightly on his belly, his legs crossed comfortably at
the ankles.  The fire on the hearth heated his skin with a false
warmth.  A half-smile played across his lips as he watched his
children with hooded eyes, the awareness of their growing arousal a
pleasant tension in his mind.

Janette's garments were quickly shed, Nicholas's eagerness making
him a deft and efficient lady's-maid, the threat of the lady's
wrath making him more careful of her clothing than he was naturally
inclined to be.  He took liberties, however, with her person,
cupping a breast, stroking a thigh, stealing a kiss from a
breathlessly giggling mouth as he helped her out of yards of
enveloping material.  He, of course, was already naked, and Janette
took full advantage of his vulnerable state, startling more than
one yelp from him.

Once nude, Janette melted against him, encircling his neck with her
arms.  He placed his hands on her hips, drawing her closer to him.
Smiling archly, she rolled her pelvis against his, pressing his
erection tight between them.  He growled softly in pleasure and
lowered his mouth to her curving lips.  They kissed languorously,
Nicholas tasting the lingering traces of her recent kill, she
catching hints of their master's essence in his mouth.  Their hands
began to wander, Janette lightly scratching down his spine to his
buttocks, while he reached up to cup her breast, softly brushing
her nipple with his thumb.  She purred, sliding her hand around to
cradle his heavy, velvety scrotum.  Nicholas's tongue became more
demanding in her mouth, sliding around her teeth, rubbing on her
still retracted fangs.  She responded in kind, sucking hard on his
tongue while squeezing his cock lightly.  Janette's loins melted in
a flaring heat as Nicholas moaned into her mouth.  Lacroix cleared
his throat, and the two youngsters turned to look at him, both sets
of blue eyes alight with gold sparks.

"Come get comfortable," he suggested, patting the thick carpet to
either side of him.  Janette and Nicholas exchanged mischievous
grins.

"We thought you'd fallen asleep," Janette teased.

"After all, you older fellows don't ... spring back as quickly as
we young ones do," added Nicholas with a roguish grin.

"Ah, then it will be your task to ... restore my vigor then, won't
it?  Come.  Do your duty."

With a final lingering kiss, Janette and Nicholas separated, any
reluctance they might have felt to do so not affecting their
compliance.  As they lay down next to their master, Janette on his
left and Nicholas to his right, Lacroix could sense a certain
amount of anxiety mingled with their excitement.  Deliberately
curling his lips into a benevolent smile, he pulled them close to
his sides.  No doubt they had some concerns as to what game he
might elect to play, if any.  He noted with some amusement that his
smile did not seem to reassure.

But their nervousness did not affect their characteristic
enthusiasm for exploring all things sensual nor the skill with
which they caressed him.  Janette's fingers, cool on his fire-
warmed skin, moved on him with a polished knowingness, a piquant
contrast to Nicholas's more forceful, elemental touch.  While her
nails pricked delicately on his sensitive throat and across his
chest, his son elected to do his work a little lower, running a
palm over his father's thighs as his lips nibbled slowly around his
belly.  Nicholas, having had him once in his mouth already that
night seemed nothing loathe to have him there once again, if the
direction his wandering kisses were taking him were any indication.
Lacroix decided to go another way.

He rolled over, away from Nicholas, laying his long length against
Janette, insinuating his leg between hers.  He kissed her lips
lightly, bringing one hand up to cup her breast, heavy and round
against his palm.  Her nipple sprang up as he circled it slowly
with his thumb, and she rested one hand, feather soft, on his hair
as he bent to run slightly parted lips back and forth over the
tight bud.  He heard her sigh, surrendering to his touch with a
surge of hunger for that darkly burning force that was uniquely her
master's.  Her craving for Nicholas still held ascendancy however.
Well, all appetites would be sated.  She'd just have to wait until
he'd had his fill of her first.  She had the time, after all.  As
did Nicholas, though the impatient flare of lust and envy his son
couldn't stifle at the sound of Janette's sigh demonstrated he
hadn't learned that yet.  Lacroix experienced a certain smugness.
Such splendidly rapacious progeny.

He switched his mouth to her other nipple, delicately lipping it
erect, while he stroked the opposite breast with his fingertips and
nails.  Silent, her supple body undulated slowly under his and his
half-erect phallus swelled against her thigh.  She ran long nails
along his hip, not hard enough to break the skin, but leaving a
trail of pleasurable burn behind.  She parted her legs farther in
invitation, stimulated by his touch, though most of her ardor came
from her earlier encounter with Nicholas.  Ignoring her offer, he
sucked her nipple deeply into his mouth, causing her to stiffen and
moan, her nails digging into his buttock.  There, now she was
paying heed.  He began working with more vigor, switching from
breast to breast, flicking the nipples with his tongue and fingers,
suckling, biting lightly.  She writhed under him, scratching at his
back, twisting her legs around his, pressing her groin against him.

She murmured a protest as he broke away from her grip, easing
downward, running his hands down her sides to her flanks, then up
again, leisurely trailing the lips of his open mouth over her
smooth belly.  Her complaints were half-hearted, however, as she
anticipated his likely goal.  He lingered over his daughter's skin,
marveling as always over its enrapturing softness.  Her skin had
been exceptionally fine even as a mortal, but when he had made her
his, when that coarse dross of mortality had been stripped away....
Ah, she had become a miracle of perfection.  There had been days
when he had spent hours simply luxuriating in every square inch of
her luminously pale surface with his fingers, lips and tongue. That
had been before Nicholas, of course, he ruminated, rubbing the side
of his face over her belly, pausing a moment to rest his cheek on
the springy, sable fluff that concealed her mound of Venus.  He
could feel the pressure of his son's intense scrutiny and the ardor
that burned in him, that fueled all their interactions with a
crackling energy.  He slid his hand up the inside of Janette's
thigh, moving his head up to dip his tongue into the shallow hollow
of her navel, as he cupped his fingers over the delight between her
legs.  Her hips rose as she tensed her buttocks, pressing the silky
mound under his hand more firmly into his palm.  Lacroix lifted his
head to gaze at their avid observer, crouched beside them following
every move.

"You look bored, Nicholas," he remarked to his son, who actually
looked anything but.  "Why don't you make yourself useful and kiss
her."

Wordlessly, Nicholas flung himself forward into Janette's eagerly
outstretched arms, snugging himself up against her side, and
Lacroix watched a moment as they kissed ravenously.  Smiling
slightly, he turned his attention to the delights that awaited him.

Stroking the fine hair away from her center with his thumbs, he
breathed in her scent, of fresh, musky woman, laced now with the
heady perfume of her arousal.  He slid his hands under her
buttocks, lifting her to ease his access.  He leaned in, half
closing his eyes, running his tongue tip around her outer labia.
She raised herself up even more, eager for him, and he slowly
licked her swollen bud, circling it a few times before plunging his
tongue deep into her core.  She moaned, the juices there flowing
across his taste buds like ambrosia, and his cock throbbed with the
single, great beat of his heart, pulsing between his belly and the
thick, soft carpet.  He nuzzled in deeper, taking her clit between
his lips, sucking and biting gently.  She began to tremble beneath
him.

It didn't take long, between him and Nicholas, to bring her to the
brink of ecstasy.  As he hadn't yet had his fill, he backed away,
simply kissing the insides of her thighs until her arousal ebbed a
bit.  When he resumed, he worked with exacting precision,
delicately, carefully tonguing her labia, barely contacting her
clitoris, slowly, so slowly, bringing her back up to the edge of
the precipice.  There he left her, squirming in agonized
frustration as she slid back down, away from her completion.  From
his son's sharp gasps, Lacroix suspected she was biting Nicholas's
lips to keep her silence.  The third time he approached, she
clamped her thighs on his head to prevent his escape.  Regardless,
he kept his manipulations incredibly fine, as it seemed as if a
mere breath would release her.  The scent of his son's blood
perfumed the air, letting Lacroix know Nicholas's back suffered
under her nails.  She shuddered, her body rigid, as, shoving her
legs apart easily, Lacroix backed away yet again, lifting himself
to her side opposite Nicholas.  He quickly caught her wrist as her
hand darted down to bring herself relief, and he reached his other
arm over her body, grasping Nicholas's thigh and tugging.  The boy
glanced back at him, hand on her breast, traces of blood on his
lips, eyes glowing.

Brows lifting, Lacroix suggested, "Come, Nicholas, be gallant.
Your lady is in need."

Nicholas quickly lifted himself between Janette's thighs.  She
reached down, desperately guiding him to her swollen, aching
center.  She cried out at his first powerful thrust, bringing her
legs around his buttocks, drumming them with her heels, tilting her
pelvis to take him in completely.  Growling, almost blind with his
passion, Nicholas set avid kisses on her lips, jaw and throat,
plunging into her with long, deep strokes.

Savoring the flavor of his daughter on his lips and tongue, Lacroix
stretched out alongside them, head pillowed on one crooked arm.  He
placed one hand on Nicholas's hip, the muscles bunching and
releasing rhythmically under his palm, and let his eyes rove over
the faces of his children.

So exquisite, so savage, his creations, eyes afire, fangs gleaming
as their passions took them, their raging desires a growing blaze
in his own mind.  A fine tremor shook his body and his breath came
rapidly through parted lips as he allowed their sensations to rush
through him.  He felt Janette's orgasm break over her first, before
the cry was wrenched from her lips, spurring Nicholas to hasten his
strokes.  The boy placed his mouth over hers, muffling her wail as
the second, stronger wave crashed over her.  As she peaked the
third time, she pulled her mouth from his to sink her fangs into
his shoulder.  Lacroix felt the pressure in Nicholas surge to
bursting, as, snarling, he bit into Janette's throat.  He jerked as
Nicholas exploded, a low moan escaping his lips.

Lids sliding down over golden eyes, he held himself in tight
stillness, waiting for his children to recollect themselves.  After
what seemed a very long time, he opened his eyes again when he
heard them stirring.  Nicholas lifted his head from where it was
tucked in the curve of Janette's throat, and laid a few light
kisses on her lips, their blood mingling again.  He then glanced
over at Lacroix, a smile quirking his mouth as he noted the man's
fiery eyes and turgid penis.  He looked back down at Janette.

"I don't think he's asleep anymore, Janette."

She twisted her head around to study Lacroix.  "Indeed," she
replied languidly, stretching cat-like under Nicholas's body.  "I
would say his vigor is quite restored."

"And I would say that there is a time and place for discussion and
this is not it," Lacroix interjected, voice a bit rough.

Chuckling, Nicholas drew away from Janette, and moved quickly over
to Lacroix, pushing the man onto his back.  Janette lithely rolled
over, following him to straddle Lacroix's knees.  The elder vampire
hissed as she drew her nails delicately up his scrotum and erect
cock, and he reached out to run his fingertips down the silky skin
of her arms.  His wrists were seized, then, in Nicholas's hard
hands and pulled over his head.  The boy, greatly daring, gave him
a wicked, slanting smile as he trapped Lacroix's crossed wrists
under one hand, and placed the other under his master's chin to
turn his head.  Nicholas leaned down and caught Lacroix's earlobe
between his teeth at the same moment Janette mounted him.

To break free of his son's grip would be the work of a instant.
The notion, however, never occurred to him as he surrendered to the
sensations of being swallowed by Janette's engulfing slickness, of
the suggestive brutality of Nicholas's teeth.  His daughter
clenched him with the strength of a fist, squeezing and releasing
as Nicholas's cool breath ghosted over the exquisitely sensitive
skin on his throat.  The boy's fangtip pierced his earlobe with a
tiny pop, sparking a sharp spike of pleasure/pain that shivered up
and down his spine.

He considered, then, in the back of his mind, in that closed,
watchful diamond of awareness that never dissolved, not with pain
or even with the more insidious danger of pleasure, whether he
should allow himself the luxury of release this time.  Occasionally
he wouldn't, refusing to yield his control, requiring the two of
them to minister to him for hours, then shaking them off, having
never reached climax, just to show them they had no dominion over
him, not even through pleasure.  As Nicholas greedily sucked the
drops of blood from his earlobe, he decided this would not be one
of those times.

He sighed, tilting his chin back as Nicholas trailed kisses,
punctuated by an occasional tiny nip, down his throat to his chest.
He closed his eyes, his flanks clasped in Janette's flexing thighs,
as Nicholas's tongue swirled around the tight knots of his nipples.
Janette chose a slow but compelling pace, grinding her hips in a
circle at the bottom of her stroke, her internal muscles almost
excruciatingly tight on him. Along with his sucking and the
flicking insistence of his tongue, Nicholas began to throw in
occasional bites as well, not quite piercing the nipples.  His
fingers twirled idly in the tufts of hair on Lacroix's chest,
tugging sharply every so often.  The elder vampire met these little
bursts of pain with soft, encouraging gasps.

Lacroix opened his eyes to find Janette gazing down into his face.
She smiled at him, slowly licking her lips.  With languid
insolence, she ran her hands over her supple body, tweaking her
nipples, stroking her breasts, trailing elegant fingers down to her
moist cleft, blatantly using him for her own ends.  Lacroix
chuckled, delighted to indulge her.  He thrust his sense of
pleasure through his link to her, both in her and for the
sensations surging through his body in ever-strengthening waves.
He was gratified when her eyes widened, flaring a sudden gold, her
smile slipping as she increased her pace, riding him now with an
abrupt, swelling urgency.  Smirking, he closed his eyes again.

Nicholas, taking the clue of Janette's change in tempo, moved his
attentions from Lacroix's nipples to his throat, his free hand
moving down to stroke his own swollen cock.  Lacroix lifted his
chin, a moan escaping his lips as his son sucked vigorously on the
skin under his jaw.  A deep rumble rolled up from the bottom of
Nicholas chest, stirring Lacroix almost as much as the fangtips
pricking his tender flesh.  His hips arched up to meet Janette's
bucking neediness.  She leaned over Nicholas's back, laying one
trembling wrist gently across her father's lips.  Lacroix opened
his mouth to tongue her flesh, his teeth a insistent ache, and with
a moan, she bent to sink eager fangs into the curve where
Nicholas's neck met his shoulder.  The boy grunted, his fist
working his cock furiously as he bit into Lacroix's throat.

Gasping, Lacroix struggled to contain himself as Janette's orgasm
swept through her and she drove herself to greater heights,
writhing on his impaling shaft, her shrieks of ecstasy muffled
against Nicholas's neck.  Snarling, shuddering, lost in the heady
darkness of his father's blood, the boy came, his ejaculate a spurt
of coolness on Lacroix's side.  With a roar, Lacroix abandoned
control, yielding to the searing bliss of the teeth in his throat,
the explosion in his loins.  He bit savagely into Janette's wrist,
tearing the flesh to release her essence, drawing in avidly the
feline fierceness, the flashing Damascus steel of his daughter.  He
then tasted Nicholas in her, and that exquisite mingling, the
twining of their savage lust and loving tenderness suffused him,
and groaning, he came again, with an ecstasy agonizingly near pain.
It seemed he expanded, surging into his children through the
pulsing of his cock and the wound in his throat.

He hung in that place, letting Janette's telling blood flow across
his tongue until he found he was tasting himself as well, a
wordless darkness that coiled through and around his children.  He
reached up, untangling his wrists from Nicholas's now limp grip,
and gently lifted her arm from his mouth.  Their combined, pliant
weight on him was a welcome one, though he thought it rather
fortunate he had lost the habit of breathing.  Janette, asleep or
unconscious, lay across Nicholas's back, still astride Lacroix's
hips, her tranquil face as innocent as a child's.  He couldn't see
his son, tucked under his chin as he was, but Lacroix could feel
his lips and tongue working lazily on the healing wounds in his
throat.

A contentment, rare to him, came to rest in his heart.  He savored
it, as he savored the existence, the very being of his children,
his best creations, knowing that it was treacherous.  It couldn't
last, no joy ever did, and the pain was always sharpened by the
peace that came before.  His lips bent into a derisive curve,
mocking his own melancholy.  Resting one hand on the wind-scented
midnight of Janette's hair, the other on the hard muscled curve of
Nicholas's hip, he sighed.  A creature of eternity learned to live
in the moment or knew everlasting despair.  He shut his eyes,
letting sleep take him, his last thought that he was going to catch
merry hell tomorrow for the stains on Janette's favorite carpet.
He smiled as he slept.

FIN



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