A/N: M-rating for the end of this chapter
Jean delighted in Lucien. Oh he had intrigued her from the start, and she knew that it was affection that fueled her frustration with him in those early days. But they grew to know each other. They grew to love each other. And that love had brought her such joy. She had someone with whom to share her secrets and her life and her joy. And this, tangled in bed with Lucien, was pure joy. It had been so long since she had been able to have such fun with another person. There was always a part of herself she had to hold back. Always work to do or worries to maintain. With Lucien, though, she delighted.
She used her vampiric strength to push him off her, though she would gladly kiss him forever if she could. But Jean hadn't been kidding when she'd told him she was a bit hungry. She fed off him exclusively but not with the same regularity as she had before they had begun their romance properly. Now, she merely asked whenever the thought struck her, and Lucien was always very happy to provide. The only payment he sought for his service was a few kisses.
He gazed up at her, eyes dark with desire. It was incredible, really, that he had never once looked at her like the monster she knew she was. Most others would. But not Lucien. Lucien knew these horrible truths about her and found them fascinating and perhaps even arousing. He had always been an unconventional man, she knew, and Jean counted herself lucky for it.
Jean trailed her hands down his chest. Oh he was just so very attractive. Hard muscles and heat, every inch of him. He grinned as she admired his body. She shifted to straddle him properly. He was already half-hard beneath her, and he groaned as she rubbed herself against him through his pajama bottoms. Jean chuckled at her effect on him. She then leaned in, let out a puff of air to bring down her fangs, and sank them into the muscle of his pectoral.
Lucien's head fell back. He hissed in pain and pleasure. His hips bucked against her. His delectable blood flowed into her mouth. She could feel the increase in his heartrate. His whole body was thrumming a steady musical beat, quickening as she devoured him.
It was not until that moment that Jean realized her fangs were closer to his heart than ever before. A shiver of terror passed through her, and Jean ran her tongue over the bite marks to stop the bleeding and sat back, staring at the marks she had left. The knowledge of what she had done, what she felt the urge to do, what she could do, it all froze her in her tracks.
Silence was thick in the room. Lucien looked up again. "Why did you stop?"
Her gaze flicked up to his face. His darling face. The face she loved so very much. She felt absolutely ill.
"Jean?" he tried again. He sat up so he could pull her into his arms. "My darling, you're trembling, what's wrong?"
"I don't want to hurt you, Lucien," she said in a harsh whisper. That was the truth of it. She did not want to hurt him. But she could. And with his beating heart right there in her grasp, she could hurt him very much.
"You won't," he insisted.
She shook her head where it rested on his shoulder. "You don't know that. I could hurt you very easily. I could lose control and take too much blood and you would end up in the morgue just like those other people killed by that vampire."
"Only one of them died of blood loss, Jean. And you have been doing this far too long to lose control like that. To drain someone of blood takes not just a loss of control but a malicious intent to harm. You could never do that."
"Especially not to you," she agreed. "But I…"
"You what?" he asked stroking her hair comfortingly.
She sighed. "Your life is too precious to me, Lucien. And far too fragile."
"I am prepared for you to turn me whenever you are willing, Jean," he reminded her.
That was not a subject she wanted to discuss now. Not at all. "I was supposed to be distracting you from your worries, not bothering you with mine," she lamented.
He pulled back to look into her eyes, taking her face in his hands to ensure she fully heard his words. "Your worries are mine. Now and always. If you're worried, I want you to tell me. I want to help."
"You can't help with this," she protested. "If I were to hurt you, even accidentally, there is nothing you can do to stop me."
"That may be true," he conceded, "but I don't think it changes the fact that you don't want to hurt me, and even though accidents can happen, I think you ought to have more faith in yourself. You are so strong, Jean. Stronger than any person should need to be and stronger than you even know, I think. And I trust you with everything in me."
She closed her eyes to savor his words. His beautiful words in his beautiful voice. When she opened her eyes again, his bright blue gaze shone with deep affection. "I love you," she whispered.
He kissed her gently. "I love you, too. And I think perhaps you should return to your feeding."
Jean faltered at that.
But Lucien would not be deterred. "You need blood, and you need to prove to yourself that things can continue just as they have. You've never been bothered before now." He smirked and added, "Besides, I would still like to be distracted."
She let out a small chuckle at that. "Yes, alright," she agreed. "But I won't bite so close to your heart anymore."
"Whatever makes you comfortable, Jean. I'm happy to have your mouth on me anywhere and everywhere."
He was smiling, and that made her smile as well. She brought out her fangs again and trailed them down his neck, scratching him lightly. His hands held her waist and squeezed as the tension in him increased from her teasing efforts. When she got to the thick muscle at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, she bit down.
Jean paid close attention to his blood, the way it flowed through his veins and into her mouth. She focused on his breathing and his heartrate. She would not take too much. She would not hurt him.
Lucien was panting, but she rather thought that had quite a lot more to do with the growing hardness pressing against her core than the blood loss. She began to rock against him. His hands moved to her hips and gripped hard, bruising her through her light nightgown. In fact, he started rucking it up, pushing it up to her waist and holding her bare flesh, guiding her movements on top of him.
His blood on her tongue comforted her. His hands on her body comforted her. His heavy presence comforted her. Her fears were not gone; she could still lose herself and hurt him, and her power was no match for anything he might try to do to stop her. But Lucien was right. She was in control, she had done this many times, and everything would be alright.
The beat of his heart grew thicker, and Jean knew she had to stop. She retracted her fangs and spent extra time running her tongue over his wounds than was strictly necessary. When she finished that, she trailed wet kisses back up his neck to his mouth. Their kisses were messy and passionate. All gentle comfort was gone now, for the both of them. The fire of their lovemaking was in full force.
"Lucien," she murmured against his lips. "Please."
He pulled her nightgown off her, and his hands immediately palmed her breasts. She continued to gyrate on his lap until she could stand it no longer. Jean climbed off him to remove her knickers. He rid himself of his trousers and then pulled her by her waist so her back was pressed to his chest as they fell over onto their sides on the bed.
With one enormous hand, Lucien pulled her thigh up. Jean hooked her foot back over his leg. He entered her swiftly. Deep and hard. They both cried out at the sudden sensation of it. He filled and stretched her. He set a strong pace, and the wet slap of skin harmonized with Jean's gasps and Lucien's grunts. Her climax came quick and powerfully, and his chased hers over the edge.
They stilled at last. Lucien's arms were wrapped around her tightly, and his panting breaths tickled her neck. Jean felt the ache between her legs of having him still inside her, going soft. But she did not want to move. She could not move. She wanted only for this beautiful moment to last forever.