Dream of Me
folder
1 through F › Forever Knight
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,851
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
1 through F › Forever Knight
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,851
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Forever Knight, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Dream of Me
-----1228 France------
LaCroix lounged in a chair, watching as his daughter stretched and woke. Her fangs flashed as she yawned. “Good evening, mon pere.”
He nodded a greeting. Janette rose and dressed herself in a light chemise. Nichola would sleep for several more hours, and once he awoke they would play, as their father called it. So there was no point in getting fully dressed yet. Janette quietly left the room and seated herself in the common room, removing her embroidery from its basket. She had been surprised when LaCroix had instructed her to continue improving this skill. It didn’t seem like a useful one for a vampire to know. But he’d proven correct, as always. Often the hours of the night stretched long and empty. Usually they hunted, either for a meal or just for practice. Or they flew. Sometimes he taught her dances, starting with the currently fashionable ones and gradually moving back through his history. But sometimes, they both needed quieter, more solitary pursuits. Now, with Nichola to care for, they both were housebound more often.
They’d spent hours in bed together during her first few decades. But that had not been true passion, only physical lust. The bed sport they shared had been very enjoyable, but also another facet of her education. They hadn’t had sex in over 50 years.
Things had changed since they’d taken Nichola for their own. She and LaCroix had rutted; she and Nichola made love. LaCroix was inhumanly skilled; Nichola had been exquisitely ardent before, and his new immortality had magnified it. She smiled, looking forward to the day when Nicholas was ready to learn these skills from their master. LaCroix had already begun the process.
-------
Janette closed the bedroom door behind her, leaving him alone with his oblivious son. She would not enter again until he gave her leave.
His body ached for this golden one. He often bolted awake in the day, craving his blood, his body. When he awoke in this state, he’d slip into their room and stand over them, watching him. He longed to join them. Somehow, he knew he’d sleep better than he had in centuries.
But he was well aware of the views that this time and culture had of such activities between men. And those beliefs were still very much a part of his Nicholas. A true child of his Church, he had faith in its teachings. The Crusade had taught him to question those teachings, but he had barely begun down that path. LaCroix, rather than attempting to batter down his defenses, worked subtly, weakening the walls from within.
He slipped into bed, under the blankets, drawing Nicholas to him. The fledgling remained completely oblivious as his master pulled his nude form across the bed, nestling him into the curve of his body. LaCroix tucked the golden head under his chin, settled his son’s back firmly against his chest. The boy slept on.
He began slowly, as he did each time. He reached across their still new bond, gently curling tendrils of thought into Nicholas’s sleeping mind. He’d been doing this every day for the last month, and he was more than pleased with his progress. It hadn’t taken much effort for Nicholas’s sleeping mind to respond to his coaxing, accept and embrace the images and ideas he planted. Nicholas was a wonderfully responsive, sensuous creature. His sheltered upbringing had provided only the simplest, most basic sexual initiation. LaCroix was more than willing to take him further.
The first few times he had done this, he had maintained strict control of Nicholas’s fantasy. Otherwise, Nicholas’s dream lover became a woman, usually Janette. Now his body and subconscious mind had grown used to his master’s touch and voice. Asleep, he accepted his lover’s masculinity.
Already his body and Nicholas’s were beginning to respond. Nicholas dreamed of his Master…touching him, kissing him, arousing him. The boy let out a sigh that was nearly a moan, and pressed himself closer, smiling. LaCroix pressed his lips to the back of his child’s neck, nipping gently. His left hand gently cradled the blonde head, combing through the silken hair, then cupping the forehead. He pulled Nicholas’s head gently to the side, exposing the pale neck, trailing kisses along the skin, tasting him. His right had was more aggressive. It slid down Nicholas’s bare chest, tweaking a hardening nipple. Nicholas twitched. Through the bond, LaCroix felt his pleasure and his growing need.
His lips caressed the arched neck, the fingers of his left hand moving languidly across the fine cheekbones, along the nose, across the lips…he gasped when his son’s lips parted and a wet tongue flicked out to taste his fingers. His left hand continued to tease across Nicholas’s face, gently encouraging his unconscious participation.
LaCroix’s right hand trailed lightly down his son’s ribs, brushing the blanket aside. He pushed the blanket down so it rested at their knees, feeling Nicholas’s mind note the change in temperature. His fingers whispered back up his child’s body, caressing his thigh, his hip, his ribs, then splayed across his breast, pressing Nicholas close.
Nicholas’s body was awake and aware, even as his mind continued to drift in a dream state. He squirmed restlessly in his father’s arms. LaCroix wished he were nude, as well…but knew he’d never be able to maintain his self-control. Were his delicious Nicholas pressed so wonderfully against his bare skin, he’d take him. And Nicholas was not ready.
But oh, his body was more than ready. LaCroix slid his hand down the taut abdomen, and trailed his cool fingers over his son’s cock. The boy hardened fully at that light touch, and LaCroix grinned delightedly. He’d rarely encountered such responsiveness in his long life, and only in experienced men and women fully aware of themselves as sexual beings. Never in one whom LaCroix thought of as a near virgin.
The physical stimulation was beginning wake Nicholas. Just enough for him to hear and for part of his mind to remember.
LaCroix cupped the hard cock, caressing slowly. “So sweet, Nicholas. Your body against mine, begging for my touch. Do you like it, mon fils?” Incoherent mumblings, nearly pleas. “Yes, I thought so.” He tightened his hand around Nicholas’s arousal, working him more quickly. His son arched his back, thrusting himself into his father’s hand. “So good, mon Nicholas, mon tresor. Soon, now.” He continued to pump Nicholas’s cock, feeling his pleasure through their link. Dream Nicholas kissed him desperately, passionately, his graceful, callused hands clawing at his master’s back. “Do you want to come, Nicholas? Do you want me to make you come?” Dream Nicholas writhed against him and begged for release, and the sleeping Nicholas followed suit, squirming and moaning. “Now Nicholas. Come for me.” His hand tightened and quickened, urged the quivering body on. Nicholas’s body arched like a bow, his fingers clenched around his father’s arm. He moaned as his slippery seed spilled across his master’s hand. His fangs sank into his master’s left wrist while LaCroix’s fingers played with his golden hair. The taut body slowly relaxed in his arms.
LaCroix smiled as his son drank from him, though his own aching arousal was unfulfilled. He cupped and caressed the boy’s spent loins with his slippery hand, murmuring in Nicholas’s ear. Finally, the boy stopped drinking. He gently withdrew his hand, his right hand drifting upwards across the well-muscled stomach and chest. Nicholas murmured contentedly.
“Say my name, Nicholas.”
Vague mumblings and a fanged yawn.
LaCroix tweaked a now over-sensitized nipple, and spoke more firmly. “Nicholas, say my name.”
Nicholas turned in his arms and twined his legs around one of his father’s. “Lucien,” he murmured obediently. LaCroix smiled, gloating down at the beautiful, sated creature nestled trustingly against him. “Good boy. You can go back to sleep.” He gently dominated Nicholas’s mind through their link, sending him back into a deep sleep. Sunset was still several hours away.
His conscious mind was still unaware, but his body was learning. Already, Nicholas sought more physical contact with his father. He sat on the floor while LaCroix read to him, leaning against his father’s leg and sometimes resting his golden head in his master’s lap. With his body’s heightened awareness he relished even the most casual contact, leaning into his master’s touch. Soon, Nicholas would be ready for him.
But not yet. So, once again LaCroix would find some relief in a mortal’s body. Nicholas would wake tonight, and he and Janette would make love while their father listened from the next room, as they had every night since Nicholas’s conversion. When the sun rose, LaCroix would rest in his empty bed, and dream of his Nicholas, again. And then, LaCroix would make his Nicholas dream of him.
LaCroix lounged in a chair, watching as his daughter stretched and woke. Her fangs flashed as she yawned. “Good evening, mon pere.”
He nodded a greeting. Janette rose and dressed herself in a light chemise. Nichola would sleep for several more hours, and once he awoke they would play, as their father called it. So there was no point in getting fully dressed yet. Janette quietly left the room and seated herself in the common room, removing her embroidery from its basket. She had been surprised when LaCroix had instructed her to continue improving this skill. It didn’t seem like a useful one for a vampire to know. But he’d proven correct, as always. Often the hours of the night stretched long and empty. Usually they hunted, either for a meal or just for practice. Or they flew. Sometimes he taught her dances, starting with the currently fashionable ones and gradually moving back through his history. But sometimes, they both needed quieter, more solitary pursuits. Now, with Nichola to care for, they both were housebound more often.
They’d spent hours in bed together during her first few decades. But that had not been true passion, only physical lust. The bed sport they shared had been very enjoyable, but also another facet of her education. They hadn’t had sex in over 50 years.
Things had changed since they’d taken Nichola for their own. She and LaCroix had rutted; she and Nichola made love. LaCroix was inhumanly skilled; Nichola had been exquisitely ardent before, and his new immortality had magnified it. She smiled, looking forward to the day when Nicholas was ready to learn these skills from their master. LaCroix had already begun the process.
-------
Janette closed the bedroom door behind her, leaving him alone with his oblivious son. She would not enter again until he gave her leave.
His body ached for this golden one. He often bolted awake in the day, craving his blood, his body. When he awoke in this state, he’d slip into their room and stand over them, watching him. He longed to join them. Somehow, he knew he’d sleep better than he had in centuries.
But he was well aware of the views that this time and culture had of such activities between men. And those beliefs were still very much a part of his Nicholas. A true child of his Church, he had faith in its teachings. The Crusade had taught him to question those teachings, but he had barely begun down that path. LaCroix, rather than attempting to batter down his defenses, worked subtly, weakening the walls from within.
He slipped into bed, under the blankets, drawing Nicholas to him. The fledgling remained completely oblivious as his master pulled his nude form across the bed, nestling him into the curve of his body. LaCroix tucked the golden head under his chin, settled his son’s back firmly against his chest. The boy slept on.
He began slowly, as he did each time. He reached across their still new bond, gently curling tendrils of thought into Nicholas’s sleeping mind. He’d been doing this every day for the last month, and he was more than pleased with his progress. It hadn’t taken much effort for Nicholas’s sleeping mind to respond to his coaxing, accept and embrace the images and ideas he planted. Nicholas was a wonderfully responsive, sensuous creature. His sheltered upbringing had provided only the simplest, most basic sexual initiation. LaCroix was more than willing to take him further.
The first few times he had done this, he had maintained strict control of Nicholas’s fantasy. Otherwise, Nicholas’s dream lover became a woman, usually Janette. Now his body and subconscious mind had grown used to his master’s touch and voice. Asleep, he accepted his lover’s masculinity.
Already his body and Nicholas’s were beginning to respond. Nicholas dreamed of his Master…touching him, kissing him, arousing him. The boy let out a sigh that was nearly a moan, and pressed himself closer, smiling. LaCroix pressed his lips to the back of his child’s neck, nipping gently. His left hand gently cradled the blonde head, combing through the silken hair, then cupping the forehead. He pulled Nicholas’s head gently to the side, exposing the pale neck, trailing kisses along the skin, tasting him. His right had was more aggressive. It slid down Nicholas’s bare chest, tweaking a hardening nipple. Nicholas twitched. Through the bond, LaCroix felt his pleasure and his growing need.
His lips caressed the arched neck, the fingers of his left hand moving languidly across the fine cheekbones, along the nose, across the lips…he gasped when his son’s lips parted and a wet tongue flicked out to taste his fingers. His left hand continued to tease across Nicholas’s face, gently encouraging his unconscious participation.
LaCroix’s right hand trailed lightly down his son’s ribs, brushing the blanket aside. He pushed the blanket down so it rested at their knees, feeling Nicholas’s mind note the change in temperature. His fingers whispered back up his child’s body, caressing his thigh, his hip, his ribs, then splayed across his breast, pressing Nicholas close.
Nicholas’s body was awake and aware, even as his mind continued to drift in a dream state. He squirmed restlessly in his father’s arms. LaCroix wished he were nude, as well…but knew he’d never be able to maintain his self-control. Were his delicious Nicholas pressed so wonderfully against his bare skin, he’d take him. And Nicholas was not ready.
But oh, his body was more than ready. LaCroix slid his hand down the taut abdomen, and trailed his cool fingers over his son’s cock. The boy hardened fully at that light touch, and LaCroix grinned delightedly. He’d rarely encountered such responsiveness in his long life, and only in experienced men and women fully aware of themselves as sexual beings. Never in one whom LaCroix thought of as a near virgin.
The physical stimulation was beginning wake Nicholas. Just enough for him to hear and for part of his mind to remember.
LaCroix cupped the hard cock, caressing slowly. “So sweet, Nicholas. Your body against mine, begging for my touch. Do you like it, mon fils?” Incoherent mumblings, nearly pleas. “Yes, I thought so.” He tightened his hand around Nicholas’s arousal, working him more quickly. His son arched his back, thrusting himself into his father’s hand. “So good, mon Nicholas, mon tresor. Soon, now.” He continued to pump Nicholas’s cock, feeling his pleasure through their link. Dream Nicholas kissed him desperately, passionately, his graceful, callused hands clawing at his master’s back. “Do you want to come, Nicholas? Do you want me to make you come?” Dream Nicholas writhed against him and begged for release, and the sleeping Nicholas followed suit, squirming and moaning. “Now Nicholas. Come for me.” His hand tightened and quickened, urged the quivering body on. Nicholas’s body arched like a bow, his fingers clenched around his father’s arm. He moaned as his slippery seed spilled across his master’s hand. His fangs sank into his master’s left wrist while LaCroix’s fingers played with his golden hair. The taut body slowly relaxed in his arms.
LaCroix smiled as his son drank from him, though his own aching arousal was unfulfilled. He cupped and caressed the boy’s spent loins with his slippery hand, murmuring in Nicholas’s ear. Finally, the boy stopped drinking. He gently withdrew his hand, his right hand drifting upwards across the well-muscled stomach and chest. Nicholas murmured contentedly.
“Say my name, Nicholas.”
Vague mumblings and a fanged yawn.
LaCroix tweaked a now over-sensitized nipple, and spoke more firmly. “Nicholas, say my name.”
Nicholas turned in his arms and twined his legs around one of his father’s. “Lucien,” he murmured obediently. LaCroix smiled, gloating down at the beautiful, sated creature nestled trustingly against him. “Good boy. You can go back to sleep.” He gently dominated Nicholas’s mind through their link, sending him back into a deep sleep. Sunset was still several hours away.
His conscious mind was still unaware, but his body was learning. Already, Nicholas sought more physical contact with his father. He sat on the floor while LaCroix read to him, leaning against his father’s leg and sometimes resting his golden head in his master’s lap. With his body’s heightened awareness he relished even the most casual contact, leaning into his master’s touch. Soon, Nicholas would be ready for him.
But not yet. So, once again LaCroix would find some relief in a mortal’s body. Nicholas would wake tonight, and he and Janette would make love while their father listened from the next room, as they had every night since Nicholas’s conversion. When the sun rose, LaCroix would rest in his empty bed, and dream of his Nicholas, again. And then, LaCroix would make his Nicholas dream of him.