HI everyone ,

this is the last of my romantic Nick/Lacroix stories, I guess they 
need something rougher next time.
It could be considered as an epilogue to "Driving me Crazy" 
and "Still Driving me Crazy" but it can stand on its own.
Hope you enjoy it.

You know the drill:

The characters of Forever Knight don't belong to me. They belong to 
TPTB and Sony/Tristar. No copyright infringement intended, but they 
needed a liitle fun away from their dusty shelf.


If this little tale pleases then permission to archive is granted.

Captive Heart
by Luc 2003

Nick stared into the fire. 
The flames licked at the logs like red velvety tongues, caressing and 
destroying at the same time. Like that other tongue that had caressed 
his skin that day.
He sighed at the recollection, then turned and looked over to the bed.
There lay his master.
The master of his soul and body.

He slowly went over to bed, not making the faintest sound on the 
thick rugs. Lacroix was fast asleep. Nick barely remembered a time 
when he had seen Lacroix like this. The other had always seemed to be 
aware of what was going on around him, even when he had been sleeping.
I could free myself so easily now, Nick thought. I could take the old 
gladius from the mantel and destroy him, decapitate him.  He wouldn't 
even know what hit him. 

Nick studied the sleeping face below him, the short bristly hair, the 
sensual lips curved into a
slight smile, the alabaster skin stretched taut over hard muscles. He 
leaned closer until his face almost touched the other's shoulder. He 
could see every pore of the immaculate skin and he could smell him. 
He smelled their passion on Lacroix's skin, the tangy scent of the 
blood they had shared, the aroma of lust from the sweat and semen 
that still clung to both their bodies.
A small drop of blood was drying on Lacroix's lower lip. Nick stared 
at it. His blood, his passion, his whole being condensed into one 
single little droplet. He licked at it with the tip of his tongue and 
his own feelings exploded in his mind. He shuddered as he experienced 
them anew, but from a slightly different angle, as if he were 
floating over his own body looking down on it.
He loved being with him, being held and touched and taken, owned 
completely. 
Why do I feel so strongly for him after all that he's done to me over 
the centuries?
Nick didn't know and he wondered if he would ever find the answer.

The man in the dark red cushions of the bed sighed and shifted and 
the cover slid away from his body. Nick marveled at the perfect form. 
Lacroix looked like he had been chiseled out of the finest Italian 
marble: flawless, hard. 
Nick felt the tingling on his skin as he watched his sleeping master. 
The little hairs on his body stood and he felt the hardness return to 
his groin.
He was positively astonished at his own appetite. But then, he had 
denied himself for a very long time. 
He traced his fingertips up the firm calves of Lacroix's legs. A 
content sigh came from the other but he didn't wake. Nick gently 
kneaded the muscles, enjoying the feel of them under his fingers. 
Earlier that day, Lacroix had done the same for him, tearing down the 
defenses of shame with his tender caresses. The ensuing hours had 
been spent in passionate and fierce coupling of bodies and minds.
I will repay you for your tenderness, my father, Nick thought.

He massaged his way up the thighs to the firm buttocks, then let his 
tongue follow his fingers as he drew a wet path up the insides of his 
sire's thighs. He heard a soft groan and felt Lacroix grind his hips 
into the mattress. 
He stopped and waited for Lacroix to turn his head.
"Nicholas, what are you doing?"
"I'm paying my debts."
"Pardon?"
"You paid no heed to your own satisfaction when I came here, instead 
you took care of me. 
I'm just returning the favor."
"You don't owe me anything, Nicholas."
And that from the lips of Lucien Lacroix, Nicholas thought, 
astonished.
"I want it, Lucien."
"Then take it, mon fils."

The elder vampire fell back and buried his head in the cushions.
"Lucien?"
"Hmm."
"How do you want me?"

Lacroix looked up again.
"Why do you ask?"
"This time, it is for your pleasure alone. What do you want me to do?"
Endless possibilities and variants of love-play came into Lacroix's 
mind, some of them not experienced since Rome had surrendered to the 
foolish teachings of Christian priests.
Then he looked at his son, his gaze expectant, eager to please.
What is it that gives me the most satisfaction?
To see him accept his nature and the look of pleasure and bliss on 
his face when I take him.
It has always been more satisfying than when I beat him into 
submission. 

He reached for Nicholas and pulled him down next to him, his fingers 
tracing the fine features of his son. His thumb went over Nick's lips 
until it was sucked into that warm mouth.
Nick suckled Lacroix's thumb and nipped at it with one of his fangs. 
The balmy drops of his sire's essence kindled a fire within him that 
he'd almost forgotten: the need to cherish the gift he'd gotten from 
the older one.
He let go of Lacroix's hand and pulled the other into a deep, longing 
kiss, a kiss of promise.
He sucked Lacroix's tongue into his own mouth, tasting it as if it 
were the first time. He softly pressed the other back into the 
cushions and once more set out on the adventurous journey of 
discovering his master's body with his hands and lips. He lost 
himself in the task of pleasing his father, the pure sensation of 
touch and taste.
He avoided touching Lacroix's most sensitive areas, though, his neck 
and his cock.
Nick enjoyed the feeling that he could almost drive his sire to the 
brink of losing control.

Lacroix was writhing under his touch, moaning, panting, eyes aflame.
Then Nick licked his neck, slowly, drawing circles with his tongue.
He sucked at the skin, grazing it with his fangs until Lacroix 
grabbed his hair and tugged his head away. 
"You know how to torture me, don't you?"
Nick smiled mischievously. Then he bent down again and closed his 
lips around his father's straining erection. He drew the flesh in, 
then let it slide out again until his teeth grazed lightly over the 
delicate head of the beautiful cock. All the time he kept his gaze 
fixed on Lacroix's face. The other bared his fangs in delight as 
waves of pleasure rolled over him.
Suddenly Nick stopped working Lacroix's cock, a serious expression on 
his face.
"Do you want me now, mon père?"
In a flash of  motion, Lacroix had pulled him down and rolled on top 
of him.
"Yes, I want you now, Nicholas!"
Nick wrapped himself around Lacroix and practically impaled himself 
on the hard shaft.
They thrust in perfect rhythm, climbing the steep hill of ecstasy 
together. When they reached the top, Nick bared his throat, willing 
to just give this time, but Lacroix guided his head to his own 
throat  and they bit down simultaneously. They fell, down into the 
endless depth of passion and blood.

Lacroix stroked his finger idly over Nicholas' back. The other lifted 
his eyes to him.
"You asked me how I wanted you?"
"Hmm," the younger one replied drowsily.
"This is how I want you. I want you happy and at ease with yourself."
Nicholas fixed his master and for a long moment said nothing. Then he 
leaned over and kissed Lacroix gently on the lips. He knew that his 
father had read it in his blood: I will always be yours. But his lips 
said something else.
"I can't come back to you, Lacroix, and you know that."
Lacroix stroked the silky blond curls and didn't answer.
I can wait, my son, I can wait.

-The End-  
   
 
all comments appreciated