DON'T OWN SOUTHERN VAMPIRE MYSTERIES OR ANY RESEMBLANCE THEREOF.

GUYS FORGIVE ME. I STARTED AND RE-STARTED THIS 7 OR 8 TIMES. JUST THE WORST CASE OF WRITERS BLOCK EVER!

A COUPLE OF THINGS:

*ERIC DU NORDE = ERIC NORTHMAN (LITERALLY, ERIC OF NORTH)

*COMTE GUILLAUME VALLON = BILL COMPTON (GUILLAUME IS FRENCH FOR BILL AND VALLON IS FRENCH FOR VALLEY WHICH IS ONE OF THE MEANINGS OF COMPTON IN OLD ENGLISH)

*AIDE-MENAGERE = LADIES MAID

*PARFAIT = PERFECT

*MAITRESSE = LOVER

HERE'S A QUICKIE FOR YA. NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE LONGER, ANDDIRECT FROM MY LOVELY BETA'S FINGERS: "If anyone complains about the length of that chapter, sic me on them!"

Chapter 21 - Paris

Would he come again?

He had every week this month.

My silly husband had his indiscretions, and now, I had mine. The difference was, his latest maid, seamstress, or cook was just some passing fancy… I loved Èric Du Nord. He was too late though. Two years ago when the Comte Guillaume Vallon came to my father for my hand, Eric was in Marseille, securing more ships for his Father's trading company. We didn't even know each other. Maybe, had we met, things would have been different; my life wouldn't be this laughable farce. My husband wouldn't be a philanderer, more interested in hunts and gambling than his own wife.

Everyone wondered why Guy and I hadn't had children yet. They thought it was my fault. They told me I wasn't enticing my husband enough, that if I lay on my back perfectly still, his seed wouldn't spill out of me. Idiots! He had no seed to fill me with! A women knows these things. He could never get me pregnant, nor could he get any of his little whores pregnant either. A blessing or a curse? What did it matter? I was pregnant now, and the blood running through my child's body was Nord's blood, not Vallon's. Eric didn't know yet. I would tell him today… if he came. He would hold me, make love to me, promise me palm trees and light, and take me away from my Parisian prison.

Last night I had let my husband slobber and pant over me. Let his putrid breath wheeze into my ear. I let his naked sweating body enter me as he played the role of a man. He thrust and heaved, making noises like a cat in heat, until his useless manhood spewed into me. How many other women had he entered that day? How many other women would he be panting over? Useless excuse of a man! When he was done with whatever he thought he was doing to me, he shook, smiled like a fool, and rolled off of me. He looked like a player in a comedy only he found funny. Damn my greedy Father! Damn my weak Mother!

I woke up this morning with his taste still in my mouth, and I gagged. It tasted of other women and stale wine. It was putrid! I purged myself because of it. My aide-menagere looked at me suspiciously. No doubt she would run out of the room and gossip. She would have known by now that I hadn't bled this month, and along with my current upset stomach, the signs were there. I eyed her bitterly. I wouldn't be able to stop the rumor mill; I could only hope that I would be far from this place before the gossip reached my husband's ear. He may be a pitiful excuse of manhood, but he also had a fierce temper and was quick to settle things by spilling blood.

She helped me wash and dress, curtsied and scurried away. I couldn't be bothered with thoughts of her though. It was a beautiful crisp morning. I was dressed in my favorite pale yellow silk dress with pink roses and bows, the layers of silk and all my underskirts swished happily as I made it down for breakfast. Guy was already at the table, blatantly staring at the girl who had just placed his food in front of him. I used to care. Now I was just happy that his attentions weren't on me. Having him look at me too long would make me nauseous. I couldn't have him jumping to the correct conclusions.

When he was done, he left the table, eyes still hungrily grazing the young girl who had served him. I knew that she would be in his room shortly; he never went on a hunt without having fucked first. At least his 'little problem' ensured that there weren't hundreds of bastard children running about. I left the table and kept myself busy. I read, I walked through the garden, and when I heard the horses, I ran back to my room. He would come. He had to. I fixed my hair, I dabbed rose water between my breasts, I rouged my cheeks. I could hear the dogs barking and running, and I knew the hunt had started. If he was coming, he wouldn't be long. He would start off with them, and as soon as they were in the woods, he would come to me. We only ever had a precious few hours until he had to ride back as if nothing had happened, but those hours… they were perfection!

A single knock.

A second.

A third, and my heart beat wildly. I opened the door, and there he was. He was wearing red. He looked like the devil and an angel all at once. He came to me, twirled me around, and closed the door with his foot.

"Six days is too long, ma cherie!"

"I counted the hours."

He put me down by the bed and turned me around to start the arduous task of undressing me.

"You always smell of roses. Every time I see one, I think of you," he whispered into my neck as he untied and unraveled me. I could feel my knees weaken. After the torture of my clothing had ended, he turned me around. His eyes took me in, and he huffed and growled as he tore the clothes from his body. I sat on the bed and moved to the center, waiting for him. Each bit of fabric he took off exposed another part of his luscious body to me. His firm chest, his long strong arms, and his muscular legs. He took off the last piece of linen, freeing himself and came to join me. His hands raked over my body, feeling what his eyes were soaking in.

"Parfait," he said before he leaned over and licked at my right nipple. He trailed his tongue further up. He licked my neck, my jaw, my chin, and finally found my mouth. He kissed me. He didn't taste of women, or anything stale. He tasted like sweet cream. Before he continued, however, I had to tell him. I had to tell him before he took my breath away, and I was left a panting lump of flesh.

"Eric," I said as he nibbled on my ear.

"Hmmm…" he hummed.

"Eric, please, I need to tell you something."

He pulled away and keeping his hands on my arms looked right into my eyes.

"Tell me, cherie."

"I love you."

"And I love you. Is that what you had to say? I knew that already, maitresse."

"No. Something else."

He was waiting for me, but I was suddenly scared. What if he ran? What if it were too much?

"Cherie? Are you alright?"

"Yes. I'm wonderful…" it was now or never, " Eric, I'm pregnant."

He looked confused, and then hurt. "How? I thought Guillaume couldn't…"

I had to cut him off; he didn't understand. I put my finger to his mouth; he quieted.

"Amour, this is your child I'm carrying − a Nord, not a Vallon." He looked shocked for only a moment. Then he lowered his head and kissed my stomach. I put my hands in his hair as he continued to kiss his child.

"Bonjour petit," he said.

I let a tear escape my eye. He wouldn't run. He reached up his hand and wiped away my tear. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something; instead, he smiled and kissed me again. He didn't need to talk. He had said it all already with those two words… "Bonjour petit."

He laid me down, making sure my head was on the pillow. He looked my body over again and let his finger trail down my breasts, circling around my belly, and travelling even lower still. When he reached my sex, he licked his finger and let it slip between my folds. I whimpered as he pushed deeper. I closed my eyes and arched my back to him, as he found the place he was looking for. A rush of heat shook my body, and just when I thought I might explode, I could feel his cool tongue graze my bundle. I was lost. I was hopeless in my need for him. I shuddered and shook as he milked me.

When I could breathe again, I looked to him. He was between my legs, ready to push into me. He leaned over to brush the hair out my face, went back to his position, and carefully, with agonizing restraint, entered me. We both let out garbled sighs when he finally he had sheathed himself inside of me. His movements were precious and slow, almost reverent. I could feel every extraordinary bit of his length. It was hard, so hard. He could reach points in me that no one else had. I could feel him everywhere. He filled me so completely.

He lifted my right leg at the ankle and placed it on his shoulder as if it were glass. The angles changed slightly, and he slipped in and out of me with steady ease. It was so right. He was smooth and gentle with me. His sounds made me tingle and push into him wanting more – always more. He lifted my other ankle and placed it on his shoulder, and now, I could feel him in the pit of my stomach. He began to push into me with more speed and power, making me moan and whimper. I could feel him crashing into my ass with every thrust, and it made me even more slick.

He had me practically folded in half − his body entering me from above, steady and strong. Eric's face was twisted in sweet agony. I could feel myself begin to coil and tighten around him. He looked right into my eyes, said my name, and nodded. I crumbled. This man knew me so well. Nord knew what he did to me. With a mere look and a nod, I came for him, trembling as I surrendered to the sensations. When he felt my slickness around him, he threw his head back, thrust into me again, and released. I could feel his warmth surge into me. All I could do was smile. A life was inside of me now, a life that was part of this man spilling into me. Sweet merciful heavens, what had I ever done to deserve the gift of him?

A/N

There will be more of this French romp next chapter, and things like when this is, etc. will be explained.

I will be posting a poll! I got some great suggestions for the 1400/1500's and wanted to give the decision to my lovely readers! So check it out on my profile tomorrow.

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