If his begging was especially pleasing, Luc would take him again and again and again, until the first rays of dawn broke through the sky. Perhaps even longer than that. Perhaps Luc would see if it was possible to fuck a vampire so hard they were unable to walk.
Jamie nudged him with an elbow again. “What devious things are you plotting?”
Luc smirked out at the dancing crowd as he toyed with the ends of Jamie’s hair. “Revenge.”
Glee and fondness and desire all pulsed through the bond at once. “Can’t wait, monster,” Jamie crooned. “Can’t fucking wait.”
Lucien’s perfect desert flower. How lucky he’d been, to pluck him for his own.
Jamie
Jamie’s chest heaved as he tried desperately to catch a breath he was vaguely aware he didn’t actually need.
His body was limp and fucked out, and he was pretty sure he was drooling. He knew his muscles would recover any minute—or at least they fuckingshould, with his vamp powers—but for the moment he was weak and boneless, his hole sore and puffy and abused.
He grinned up at the ceiling. What a great fucking night.
Luc hummed below him, trailing kisses over Jamie’s hip. How he was still moving after the show he’d just put on was anybody’s guess. “So pleased with yourself, ma fleur.”
Jamie was exhausted. Spent. Debauched. And still, he couldn’t resist teasing, “Iampleased with myself, Angel darling.”
Luc growled, nipping sharply at his skin. “Do not start with me.” He rose onto his elbow, cocking a brow in threat. “I can go again.”
“Mercy,” Jamie pleaded, even as he laughed. He had known Luc would get pissy about the costume, once he found out what it really was. And truthfully, hewasmuch more of a Spike, if Jamie had to choose between characters, but Jamie hadn’t wanted to mess with that glorious salt-and-pepper hair, beyond gelling it.
It was bad enough they’d shaved his scruff.
Jamie already missed the drag of it against his skin, the beard burn that always healed within seconds.
Oh well. It would grow back.
“Shall we book the room for another night?” Luc asked, clearly wanting the answer to be yes. “Let you…recover?”
As if he wouldn’t fuck Jamie again the moment he was up for it.
But alas, Jamie had other plans. “No, I want to get back to Tucson for All Souls’. The parade is tonight.” Or at least hethoughtit was tonight. The curtains were pulled, and he’d lost track of time long ago.
Luc huffed. “More festivities?”
Jamie patted blindly at Luc’s head, still in the vicinity of Jamie’s hip. The gel had come out somewhere around the fourth round of Luc’sHalloween Fuckfest 3000, and the strands were soft again. “You’ll like this one,” he told him. “There’s a parade, but it’s…” He tried to find the words for it and settled with, “It’s just really cool. Bear with it?”
Luc’s breath was warm against his skin. “Anything for you.”
Jamie grinned at the ceiling again. “God, you’re whipped.”
In answer, Luc pressed against Jamie’s poor, abused hole with his fingertip, and Jamie honest to God whimpered. “I take it back,” he said quickly. “You’re very fierce and independent, and you’re doing me a favor out of the blackness of your heart, not because you’re completely whipped by your charming, handsome mate.”
“Much better,” Luc murmured silkily before scooping Jamie up and off the bed. “Let’s bathe you. You’re covered in…fluids.”
Jamie wrapped his arms around Luc’s neck. “And whose fault is that?”
Luc smirked, completely unrepentant. As he should be. That was a real good job he’d done. Jamie couldn’t decide which had been better—getting to fuck his mate in the alleyway or getting the ravaging of a lifetime here in the hotel.
But then again…why choose?
“I really love you, you know,” he whispered, the sexed-outedness making him sappy. “Je t’aime toujours.”
“Et moi aussi, ma fleur. Je t’aime toujours.”
