Heart Of A Vampire - Valmont's Trinity Part 3

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing?" Serge's vampire blood ran cold-no, hot.

"Oh h.e.l.lo." Philippe gestured toward the tub. "I...I'm running a bath for you."

Serge stared. He couldn't help it. The steam from the hot water had made a delicate sheen of moisture on every inch of Philippe's tanned body, emphasizing to perfection his sloping thigh muscles, beautifully carved abs and chest, as well as his thick, hard, veined...

Once again, the wild urge to sink his canines into Philippe's smooth neck a.s.saulted him, followed by the desire to run his tongue over those muscles, gather the salty moisture that beaded on them. To feel the plump head of Philippe's c.o.c.k-full and hard at attention, jutting from a thatch of dark blond springy hair-touch the back of his throat, to taste the smooth shaft against the flat of his tongue.

He cleared this throat and worked his face into what he hoped was a threatening scowl. "Like I said, what the h.e.l.l are you doing?" The hardness in his own voice made him wince. But if he didn't steel himself, he'd go mad. Never would he attack Philippe in a pa.s.sion of hunger. Unless Philippe said the words that invited him, he wouldn't go. One thing Serge had always refused to do was to use force.

The vampire's large blue-green eyes clouded, yet he did nothing to cover his nakedness. The candlelight in the bath chamber glowed on the marbled walls and off his golden skin. Serge's gaze trailed down the other vampire's hard chest, over each perfectly round, tawny-colored nipple, down the center furrow of Philippe's abdominal muscles, back to that inviting thatch of dark gold hair and the hard c.o.c.k springing from it. "I...I'm sorry. I thought you'd want a bath." Again he indicated the huge Roman tub full of steamy water. Something spicy and exotic in the way of scent tinged the water, diffused into the room by the steam.

Serge hung back in the doorway and narrowed his eyes. His muscles tensed, and he was ready to kill at the slightest hint of a threat to Valmont. "Who are you? You're not a CE. What do you want with us?"

Philippe sighed and closed off the faucets. The room filled with sudden silence, except for the dripping water. He grabbed a towel from a nearby towel bar and wrapped it around his hips. His slim, tapered, lickable hips. "Darelle sent me to help you and Valmont with the repairs."

Serge leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. "I understand that much. And your people have been most helpful with the chateau."

"Not just the repairs to the chateau," Philippe said softly.

A shiver pa.s.sed down Serge's arms. "What do you mean?"

Philippe cleared his throat and Serge noticed the vampire's Adam's apple slide up and down. "The repairs to your relationship." He bowed his head briefly, causing the candlelight to glint off the gold threads of his tumbling hair. When he looked up again, his eyes shone with a strange blend of sympathy and hunger. "She told me about what happened between you and Valmont. She...knows how much you love each other and thought that I could...bring you back together."

Serge lifted away from the doorframe, balling his hands into fists. What business of it was Darelle's? He bit back the question, not wanting to show Philippe his mortification. "And how could you possibly do that?" Resentment that had boiled in him for over six hundred years rose, ready to give way. The roiling emotions lit the bloodl.u.s.t in his eyes. He felt the burning heat in his pupils.

Philippe squared his shoulders. "I...I'm not certain, but I'm here for you both."

Serge stared at him a moment longer. Something broke and his tension drained suddenly, replaced by weariness. And sadness. He loved Valmont and would continue to love him even if his pa.s.sion was unrequited. How was he able to withstand such heartache?

His gaze remained locked with Philippe's. Many emotions flitted through those aqua eyes. Philippe obviously believed that Darelle's stupid notion was possible, yet the proposal was ludicrous...wasn't it? Valmont was in love with Darelle. He was obviously grieving her. How could he insult his former lover by asking him for his heart back? "You still haven't told me what you are," he muttered.

Philippe cleared his throat. "I'm a CE." A twinkle came suddenly into his eyes. "Well, half CE. Half immortal, of the non-vampire strain. As I told Valmont earlier, that is a delicious advantage to all involved."

Serge furrowed his brow. Who did this creature think he was fooling? "How the h.e.l.l can you be half vampire, half immortal?"

Philippe shrugged, his sensuous lips curved in a sideways grin. "There are more things on heaven and earth than are dreamed of in your philosophy, Horatio."

Serge recognized the quote. Shakespeare's Hamlet. He'd seen the play centuries ago, as his necessary treks away from the chateau walls to feed took him to all sorts of places, theaters included. He nodded.

Philippe took a step toward him, bringing with him his distinct, luscious scent, a blend of honey, male musk and the scented oils diffused into the air. "You and Valmont both need to feed on someone and I need to be fed upon. We know that much at least. I will stay here with you and provide that for you."

Serge's need burned. He felt as if he'd slip beyond control any second.

Philippe came to a standstill a mere few inches away, breathing heavily. He stood so close that Serge could see the tawny hue of his nipples on his gleaming chest. His blue-green eyes simmered with promise, yet pleaded at the same time. "Please, take from me what you need."

Serge sucked in a breath. Every nerve ending in his entire body simmered. His gaze transfixed itself on Philippe's throat, on the tiny pulse beating under the golden, dewy skin. So smooth, so perfect.

Philippe's eyelids fluttered closed. His voluptuous lips remained parted. Mist gleamed on his sculpted cheeks and jaw, clean-shaven and smooth.

That was it. He reached for the golden vampire, closed his hands on those sleekly muscled arms. Firmly but gently he drew Philippe closer. The movement caused the towel around the vampire's slim hips to come loose and fall to the marble floor. Serge barely noticed as the hunger overcame him. He slid one hand into Philippe's hair and entwined his fingers in those silky golden curls.

A murmured sigh escaped Philippe. His long golden eyelashes shuttered and he tilted his head back, a movement which freely offered access to his smooth, tanned throat. His towel now gone, Philippe shifted forward, pressing his erection into Serge's thigh, right through his trousers.

Serge bent to Philippe's neck and gently licked the CE's taut throat. Dieu, that skin was luscious, creamy and salty all at once. Closing his lips over the supple spot right alongside Philippe's jugular, he curled his lips back and pushed his canines into the delicious flesh.

"Yessss...ohhh." Philippe sighed as Serge's fangs sank smoothly in. His body sagged languidly in Serge's arms.

Serge pulled his canines out and closed his lips over the punctures. Philippe's honeyed blood slipped through the tiny openings, pooled on his tongue then slipped down his throat. Never before had anyone's life essence tasted like such G.o.dly nectar.

His eyes fluttered closed and he surrendered completely to his feeding. Philippe's arm muscles twitched against his fingertips and his chest heaved, warm and alive. One hand slipped off Serge's arm and worked open the b.u.t.tons of Serge's shirt, hand sliding eagerly over his chest muscles and rubbing his hardening nipples.

Serge groaned even as he sipped Philippe's blood. This hybrid vampire was obviously skilled at pleasure... Ohhh. Fingers sliding down Serge's stomach, Philippe stole to the buckle of his belt, which he deftly worked open.

Those same fingers fumbled with the b.u.t.ton and zipper, but Serge was so absorbed in feeding, he could do nothing else but sip Philippe's blood. Trousers finally open, Philippe pushed them past Serge's hips where they fell to his ankles. In the next breath, the little vixen undulated his slim hip so that their hard shafts rubbed together.

An electric jolt shot through Serge. The pleasure of this contact traveled through his entire body. He groaned, drinking every sweet drop of Philippe's blood. Feeling renewed, it was time to seal the punctures. He did so with one firm lick.

Now fed, his attention went fully to the friction in his groin. d.a.m.n. Ecstasy engulfed him, radiating from the slide of their c.o.c.ks together. He squeezed Philippe in his arms and the vampire's back muscles bunched and stretched as the golden-haired beauty ground against him.

Serge sagged back against the wall, letting his touch slide down to Philippe's a.s.s. Mmm, it was hard, round...made to be f.u.c.ked. And those perfect globes of muscle concealed what had to be a deliciously tight hole between them. Philippe ground against him, enthralling him with the slide of their hard c.o.c.ks together. Such a s.l.u.t this vampire-immortal was. So perfect. He found himself grinning.

Suddenly, Philippe kissed him, slipped his tongue between Serge's lips and swirled it greedily into every corner as if to taste the lingering drops of his own blood. His groan vibrated through their joined mouths and his body tightened in Serge's arms. Splashes of hot c.u.m warmed Serge's belly. Entranced, he watched the milky stuff ooze from the tiny hole.

Philippe's c.o.c.k, still hard and slick with c.u.m, slid easily against his in heated strokes.

Serge squeezed Philippe's a.s.s, pulling him tight against him. Serge moaned into Philippe's mouth just as his own climax erupted, spraying all the way up to Philippe's chest. The milky white caught in Philippe's golden chest hairs and dripped down the center of his tight stomach.

The sight was glorious. And one he'd needed for so long.

He held on to Philippe's a.s.s until the very last spasm had wrung him out. He sagged against the wall, breathing heavily. Without thinking, he pulled Philippe against him and rested like that, making their bodies stick together.

Serge resisted the impulse to wind his fingers into Philippe's hair, a tender gesture he'd often done with Valmont. He stiffened. No. He wouldn't allow tenderness. The CE had offered him his blood and his body as a service. He also offered the possibility, however remote, of a deeper reconciliation with his former lover, the only being he'd ever loved more than life itself. That's what Philippe was here for. He'd said so himself.

Philippe raised his face from Serge's chest. The look in his eyes showed he'd registered the other vampire's tension. He visibly gathered himself and gently lifted away, gesturing toward the tub. "Come," he said, his gentle voice silky, holding the promise of more pleasure. "The bath is still hot and you have more relaxing to do."

Serge glanced at the huge steaming tub of scented hot water. It sure as h.e.l.l looked lusciously tempting. Wordlessly, he stepped out of his shoes and trousers, then stripped off his shirt. A tendril of guilt nagged him for the pleasure he'd just taken while Valmont slept in his room down the hallway, recovering from his ordeal.

He was tempted to ask Philippe to leave him be now, but couldn't. The CE's unselfish company offered him long-needed comfort. And besides, even though he didn't want to show tenderness, Philippe had shared his lifeblood with him, willingly and unflinchingly. Serge couldn't just throw him out.

Philippe smiled gently at him and picked up his hand. He let himself be led to the huge tub. He released Philippe's hand and stepped in, submerging himself in the deliciously hot water. Sinking onto the bench that ran around the edge of the tub's interior, he leaned back and closed his eyes, enveloped by the spicy scent of oils that wafted through the air.

The sound of water rippling made him open his eyes. A jolt of renewed desire pa.s.sed through his middle.

Philippe descended into the tub and waded over to him, a cloth in one hand. Heat stirred in his groin even though he tried to fight it off.

Philippe sat next to him and submerged the cloth, bringing it up dripping. "May I?" The look in his eyes was hopeful and tender. Whether he was acting or not, he was convincing.

He nodded. "All right."

His companion smiled and gently wiped the cloth around his neck several times. Mmm, the gentle rasp of the wet cloth behind his ears was immediately relaxing. His skin tingled pleasantly under the kind touch, like that of a skilled nurse tending to wounded soldiers.

A strange blend of qualities this hybrid vampire was. Admittedly, he'd never heard of such a thing. Probably a result of his extended vigil outside these walls. Against his will, his curiosity about Philippe moved him to speak. "Do you feed as well as get fed on?"

"Sometimes," Philippe said. "But like all CEs, I only feed as an act of mercy." He pa.s.sed the cloth over Serge's chest. The soft, wet material grazed his nipples pleasantly. The sensation made his c.o.c.k start to harden again.

Serge chuckled in spite of himself. "What does the immortal half of you think of that?"

Philippe's smile widened and Serge couldn't help but notice that he seemed delighted to be in the tub with him. "My immortal half is perfectly happy with it." That beautiful smile faded a bit and sadness flashed through his eyes. "Most of the time." He dipped the cloth into the water and wiped it gently over one of Serge's shoulders and down his arm, which rested along the edge of the tub. "Immortals aren't clannish and social like vampires," he said softly. "So sometimes, the two distinct characteristics cause a war inside me."

"I see." The surge of compa.s.sion he felt for Philippe just then disturbed him. He, himself, certainly knew how it felt to be isolated against his will, as well as to feel torn and guilty over conflicting emotions. "Was your sire half and half like you?" The question was out before he realized what he was doing. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business."

"Don't be sorry." Philippe's voice was so gentle and soothing. With a hand on Serge's shoulder he bade him to lean forward just enough to allow the cloth to pa.s.s over his back.

Serge suppressed a groan at the pleasure of the warm cloth against his wet skin.

"I never knew my sire, really," Philippe went on. "I was a player in Shakespeare's theatre troupe. I had admirers and...lovers, many of them. I was so enthralled with my own skills and talents that I entertained anyone who flattered me." His blue-green eyes looked both sheepish and pained. He stopped moving the cloth, rested it against Serge's back. "I didn't know then of the existence of vampires or immortals. I cared only about the theater. It consumed me. So I wasn't paying attention when in the midst of hot s.e.x, one of my...admirers...pinned me down and fed on me."

He shrugged. The casual gesture belied an air of emotional pain. "He grabbed my hair, yanked my head back and sank his fangs into my neck. I couldn't move. It was done before I knew what hit me. I was aroused and terrified both." He looked down.

Serge looked at him, taken off guard by the heat of anger burning in his own chest. "That wasn't right," he muttered. "Whoever bit you that way should have been slain." His hands curled into fists and he sat up straight. The water sloshed around from his movement. "A sire doesn't simply attack like that and then abandon his protege. He should be slain for such cruelty."

Philippe's eyes widened and he stared at Serge, his pouty lips slightly parted.

Holy s.h.i.t, what did I just say? He looked down, shocked at the wave of protectiveness he felt. It was sudden, yes, but there was no excuse to brutalize someone with so obvious a gentle nature. Vampires like that were disgusting creatures. Philippe's experience at that brute's hands was so absolutely opposite to his own siring. As selfish and arrogant as Valmont had been, he'd also been a caring lover who'd brought his protege across in a tender, pa.s.sionate way, never abandoning him in all the centuries that followed. Well, mostly not abandoning him...

Philippe didn't answer. He averted Serge's gaze and resumed his ministrations. He slid the cloth under the water, wiped it around Serge's waist, and then lower...

The cloth grazed Serge's c.o.c.k. He bit back a groan. In spite of the fact he'd come a short while ago, his l.u.s.tful appet.i.te combined with Philippe's obvious skill made him ready to go again. Fixing his gaze on the golden vampire's chest, he stared at the way the golden hairs on the round muscles lay against his wet skin. His mouth watered to taste that skin, especially those tawny-brown nipples. And yet, in that moment, he found himself not only wanting pleasure for himself. Philippe's suffering had roused his sympathy.

"Philippe," he muttered, hearing the husky tinge in his own voice.

The cloth froze in mid-movement. "Yes?"

Serge raised his gaze to Philippe's blue-green eyes. It was very difficult not to stare into those eyes. "The story you just told me...it's true?"

Philippe nodded. Sadness filled his eyes. "Oui, c'est vrai. You can ask Darelle or anyone of the others downstairs. They all know about it. His name at the time was Gustav, a protege of Noiret."

"s.h.i.t." Noiret. That figured. If a crueler vampire than that b.a.s.t.a.r.d walked the earth, Serge had yet to meet him.

Before he realized what he was doing, he reached out, slipped his hands around the vampire's smoothly muscled back and pulled him closer.

Philippe gasped softly and yielded gratefully. The hot water in the giant tub sloshed gently as their bodies met. Caught up in the moment, he straddled Serge and kissed him again, gulped hungrily at the vampire's lips and tongue. You're so beautiful, he wanted to say and didn't. Your blue eyes, your dark, soft hair... Never before had he felt so strangely shy.

Tilting his hips forward, Philippe pushed his hard c.o.c.k against Serge's. Their erections slid easily together under the water. He groaned and suckled more furiously on Serge's tongue. Something about this gorgeous vampire made him feel like an innocent but s.e.xually hungry youth again...such a mystery but so delicious.

He licked the seam of Serge's delicious lips several times and his heart raced when Serge swirled his tongue against his with lazy familiarity, as if they'd been lovers for a long time.

Philippe sighed into their joined mouths. He sank against his lover, his wet chest fusing to Serge's. Serge's soft chest hairs tickled his nipples and Philippe rubbed his chest against him while his fingers played with wet strands of Serge's hair.

A seeking hand slid down Philippe's back, along the furrow of his spine to his b.u.t.tocks. The teasing pleasure made him groan and he deepened their kiss, dancing his tongue wildly against Serge's. Serge tasted so delicious, his flavor musky with a touch of tobacco and herbs.

Rising up on his knees, he reached for Serge's c.o.c.k and guided it to his a.s.s. The scented oil in the water made his opening slick so that a small push was enough to get the plump head inside him.

Serge groaned into his mouth. He grasped Philippe's hips and tugged him down gently.

Philippe was only too happy to oblige. With one firm push, he impaled himself on his lover's c.o.c.k. His entire body shuddered from the incredible friction of the thick shaft filling him. Anchoring his hands on the edge of the tub, he rode Serge, lost in a haze of pleasure.

The water sloshed and lapped around their joined bodies. Philippe shut his eyes tightly, every sense filled with the other vampire, his scent, the thickness of his c.o.c.k inside him, the friction of that tight stomach against his c.o.c.k.

An eager hand slid from his hip and wrapped around his c.o.c.k. Each thrust of his body caused Serge's hand to pump his c.o.c.k, slick from the oiled water.

Philippe moved faster, driven by the sheer pleasure and desire to make his companion come again. He pulled his mouth from Serge's and opened his eyes, watching his dusky blue pupils, half hidden by his dark eyelashes, the lids heavy, his full lips parted. Water beaded off his smoothly shaven cheeks and glistened in his hair. That sight alone sent a frisson of sheer pleasure through Philippe's body.

He squeezed his a.s.s muscles around Serge's c.o.c.k, dragging a deep groan from the vampire. His hand went slack on Philippe's c.o.c.k and his c.o.c.k twitched inside him, pulsing warm seed into Philippe's pa.s.sage. Serge fell back, body slack. His hand still rested on Philippe's c.o.c.k. Lazily, he began pumping it again. He stared up, lids still heavy over his enchanting blue eyes. "Stay like that," he ordered softly.

Philippe nodded. "Gladly," he breathed. He'd stay straddled like this with Serge's c.o.c.k buried deep inside him. Forever, if it were possible.

Serge used the slick water to glide his hand the entire length of Philippe's c.o.c.k. Philippe groaned softly. His eyelids shuttered and he loosely gripped Serge's hard shoulders. The pressure was building rapidly in his c.o.c.k. Tingling heat vibrated deep in his b.a.l.l.s.

"You like that?"

"Yessss..." His head lolled, his eyelids shuttered. He was weakened, unable to do anything else but submit to Serge's stroking. "Don't stop, please."

The vampire grinned. "Not until you come, I won't."

Philippe's eyelids flickered some more as the tingling in his b.a.l.l.s intensified.

Serge ran the pad of his thumb over the head of his c.o.c.k, played with the tiny opening before stroking him some more.

"Ohhhh." Philippe tilted his head back as the spasms gripped his c.o.c.k, sending a cloud of c.u.m into the water.

His lover didn't stop stroking. That lazy grin stayed on his full lips while he milked every last drop.

Philippe collapsed lightly against him, panting.

Serge closed his arms lightly around his companion. His own action surprised him, but he couldn't bring himself to pull away now. Philippe's back heaved under his hands, warm breath pulsed against his skin. The sensations were oddly comforting in the wake of such pleasure. How could he push him away now? d.a.m.n.

Long after Serge's c.o.c.k had softened, Philippe rose on his knees, making him slide out. "Come," he said softly, "you should get some rest." He climbed from the tub, grabbed a fluffy towel from a bar and dried Serge off when he emerged from the water.