anita_blake | Incubus Dreams

Incubus Dreams - October 22nd

Anita is sitting on the bed, legs folded indian-style, and she stares at the pair sitting on the couch. Both Asher and Jean-Claude look utterly at ease, faces blank, bodies relaxed. If she didn't know them better, she'd say they were casually waiting to have an everyday discussion about the weather.

But their careful expressions and relaxed positions speak volumes for their worry and discomfort.

"You can both stop looking like I'm about to execute one of you," she says, trying for a smile. "I promise, it's not that bad."

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Anita moans, eyes closed, trying to regain her senses, but Asher's hand moving down her does nothing to help that.

"You both feel fucking fantastic," she slurrs, a little giggle leaving her bloody throat.

Jean-Claude chuckles along with her. "I believe, given Asher's current state," he says, eyes taking in Asher's now-evident arousal, "that he would agree that you feel equally fantastic. And it occurs to me now that you have not had the pleasure of feeling him entering you, nor he of having you above him. If you are amenable, ma petite, I would very much like you to share that particular pleasure with him."

Asher folds one arm behind his head, propping it up a little so he can look across at Anita, Jean-Claude.

"An excellent idea," he murmurs, smirking at Jean-Claude. "Merci, mon ami."

Anita's cheeks flush a little, but she wants it the moment Jean-Claude suggests it. She shifts on the bed, crawling the little way to Asher, and brushes her lips against his.

"You want me to ride you?" she purrs, smirking at him.

Jean-Claude smirks. "Succinctly put, ma petite," he teases as he rubs her back.

Asher nods, tangling his fingers in her hair, pulling her close to kiss her sweetly.

"Yes, cher," he whispers.

She doesn't even want to tell either of them no. Her hand cups Asher, strokes him as she straddles his hips. Anita doesn't look away from those pale blue eyes, eyes that remind her of a winter's sky, as she sits back. With a moan, she slowly works her body down Asher's cock, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly until she sits flush against his thighs.

"God," she breathes, shuddering as pleasure fills her. "Asher."

With the marks open between them, Jean-Claude can feel Anita's pleasure. Combined with his own memories of nights past both with Asher alone and with Julianna as well, it brings another shiver to his own body. He sits up and straddles Asher's legs as he presses close to Anita's back. His tongue brushes over the fresh puncture marks in her neck while his hands slide around her to cup her breasts as she moves against Asher beneath them both.

Asher moans, his hands gripping Anita's hips as she sinks down, tilting his head back, closing his eyes as he shivers. He rolls his hips, pushing that little bit deeper, her heat, the clench of her body around his cock more than he could have imagined.

Anita cries out as Asher slides deeper, her hands clenching on his chest. The heat of Jean-Claude behind her, his mouth where Asher's mouth had pierced her, drives her mad. She rises a little before slipping down Asher's cock again, another long moan drawn from her. Opening her eyes, she stares down at Asher, memories not her own filling her mind, of all the time Asher had lain like this, lit by the soft glow of candlelight.

Jean-Claude catches the thread of Anita's thoughts and lifts his head from her neck to murmur in her ear, "He is so beautiful, is he not?" Then he pulls her hair aside and gives the same tender treatment to the other side of her throat, licking and gently nipping along the curve.

Asher slides his hands up a little, framing her waist rather than her hips, holding her close as he sits up, trapping her between their bodies.

He kisses Anita, his chest against Jean-Claude's hands, his hands coaxing Anita to move, rise and fall in his lap.

Anita begins to ride Asher with enthusiasm, moaning as she buries her face against Asher's throat. "Yes," she breathes, her lips teasing Asher's neck. "He's beautiful and... God... I swear I'm losing my mind."

She's trapped between the men, Asher moving inside her and Jean-Claude moving against the crevice of her backside. It feels amazing as she moves her hips to take Asher in while rubbing herself back against Jean-Claude. What surprises her the most is just how much she's enjoying herself without the ardeur, without the overriding lustful hunger to batter away at her own sense of self and limits.

"Non, ma petite," Jean-Claude whispers between soft groans at the feel of her pressing back against his cock. "Not losing your mind; merely turning it down for a while and listening to your feelings instead." In his opinion, she thinks too much anyway, and always about the subjects that should require the least thought to begin with.

He removes his hands from Anita's breasts, letting her rub instead against Asher's chest. He then slides a hand down between the other two and begins to rub gently at Anita's clitoris, coaxing her to another release.

"You should listen to your feelings more often," Asher gasps, even as he grins, kissing her neck, feeling her nipples rub against his chest. Not wanting Jean-Claude to feel left out, he reaches around Anita, curling his fingers around Jean-Claude's cock, stroking him in tupe with the rise and fall of Anita's body in his lap.

Anita barely even registers Asher's hand behind her and what it's doing. All she feels is Asher's cock sliding inside and Jean-Claude's fingers circling her. Her hands cling tightly to Asher while her breath comes faster, her body trembling between them as pleasure mounts.

She isn't going to last much longer, and Anita doesn't even try to hold her climax back. She lets it build beautifully, letting them both work her to the very edge of pleasure where she teeters, breathless and moaning their names.

Jean-Claude's breath catches in his throat when he feels Asher's hand on him. He shifts his hips back and forth, thrusting up into the encircling fingers.

When he senses Anita getting close to her release, he slows his rubbing, drawing it out as much as possible, letting the anticipation build and swell until she simply cannot hold back anymore.

Asher meets Jean-Claude's gaze, smiling against Anita's skin as he strokes him, just how he likes it.

He gentles the thrust of his hips, in tune with Jean-Claude, slowing their movements until Anita is caught, desperate, driven mad by their hands, their bodies.

Nailing digging into Asher's shoulders, Anita writhes, trying for that last bit of stimulation that will send her screaming. When it's not quite given, she makes a breathless, desperate request.

"Bite," she pants. "Feed from me..."

And the unspoken 'both of you' is shared down the marks with Jean-Claude.

He considers questioning that request, but he can feel her honest desire through the marks and knows that this is not the ardeur overriding her will, but something she knowingly and truly wants.

Jean-Claude dips his head to the thus-far unmarred side of her throat and opens his mouth against her racing pulse, biting down without further preamble. He's sated from his feeding earlier that evening, so this is just a mouthful or two, merely for the pleasure of it. And pleasure it is as Anita's sweet blood washes over his tongue, laced with all the lust and desire and love she's feeling at this moment.

Asher seals his mouth over his bitemark, letting his fangs pierce her flesh once more, barely taking a mouthful more, moaning as his hips jerk, pleasure racing through him, and in turn, through Anita. He rolls her, sends pleasure crashing over her, a wave of sensation that is impossible to resist.

Anita screams, pleasure overwhelming her entirely. Her nails rake down Asher's back as she bucks between the vampires, climax rushing through her body. One orgasm seems to bleed into another as she's rolled by both Asher and Jean-Claude, and Anita's body is soon a hypersensitive, writhing thing between them. She gasps their names, eyes open wide but unseeing as she squirms, knowing she really wouldn't care if she died, and, distantly, she realizes how deadly the two of them could be.

Not that it affects a moment of what she's experiencing, because she knows she'll happily do this all over again and again if they let her.

Between Anita's blood, the sounds of her climax, her body bucking against his, and the increasing rhythm of Asher's hand around him, Jean-Claude throws his head back and lets his own release tear through him with a shuddering moan. His back arches and body spasms as the pulses of his orgasm send his fluids across Asher's hand and Anita's back.

Anita's release triggers Asher's own, and he comes only moments ahead of Jean-Claude, thrusting raggedly, trying to keep enough control to continue touching Jean-Claude, stroking him through his climax.

He kisses the slope of Anita's neck, just above his bitemark, leaning against her as he pants softly, clutching at Anita and Jean-Claude both.

Gasping for breath, Anita just sits there between them, trembling, at a loss for words or thought.

All she knows is how she feels, and fuck, she feels good.

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