Home | fanfiction favorites archive | nothing quite like the feel of something new... | who is this person? | favorite linx | anita blake fanfics 1 | anita blake fanfics 2 | anita blake artwork | awards, adoptions, etc.

1999 honda valkrie

by shade
Rated R

Dedicated to . . . the fabulous, fantrabulous, fantastic BeElle Gee. She writes like a goddess and has only ever been more than supportive. Yay BeElleGee.


Jean-Claude's legs hugged the black and chrome machine with a practiced ease that was a little unsettling. He should be more of a technophobe but he wasn't he was as confident and cool as anything else.

His helmet, well no one was sure he'd even bought one, considering that he could probably walk away from even a most horrific crash that was sort of understandable.

What Asher was having trouble standing was his outfit. That demon Jason had dressed him, a change from the norm. All of Jean-Claude's beautiful dark hair was falling around his face in smooth, full waves and his face was clear of any makeup or other additions. His eyes were as blue as midnight and as joyful as a teenaged boy just after getting laid for the first time. Leather hugged his pants and spilled seamlessly into a pair of chunky black motorcycle boots, large silver buckles fastening up his leg. His torso was held in the grasp of a too small corset that left his nipples and burn scar free to the air. It did not lace up properly and left a long thing patch of skin bare down the center of his chest.

Asher's heart was beating too fast, too loud, too strong. He moistened his lips with a drag of his tongue and watched the dark haired vampire's gaze track the motion. Suddenly Asher wished he was somewhere else, wearing something else, with someone else. His own pants were black leather and flared ever so slightly at the ankle to leave just the rounded toe of his Doc Martin's free. His shirt was open over his chest, as he'd been pulled from the shower, and it's pale blue stripes brought out the shocked powder blue of his eyes.

Jean-Claude smiled and Asher could only liken it to the smile that the Big Bad Wolf had given to Little Red; it was part promise, part open invitation and all sex. Asher's skin was crawling and not in a bad way. Jean-Claude's finger crooked to beckon Asher to him, the motorcycle idling under him. The blonde fought the urge to run and stumbled back to hit the wall.

"Come, mon ami," he coaxed, voice sliding over his skin like kisses. A groan pulled off his lips and Asher began buttoning his shirt. Jean-Claude laughed and looked over him, his eyes burning with a darkness that promised cool sheets and hot kisses.

That was all it too for Asher to sling his leg over the back of the Valkrie and wrapped his arms around Jean-Claude's waist "Wonderful choice."

Asher felt his stomach jump as they pulled away the happy purr of the bike competing with the sound of wind and the road. The blonde threw his hair back and let the wind run through his golden tresses. It was amazing. The speed, the power. Jean-Claude rolled a little more gas into the engine as one of Asher's hands crept down his stomach to toy with that dark line of hair that lead to much better things.

A slow moan made its way to Asher's ears and he smiled. A few more moments of the ride and Asher found them stopped in the dead center of a small, pretty park just on the outskirts of town. A large black blanket covered a portion of the ground and six massive red candles lit the area. Asher smiled. Lifetimes ago the same ride had taken place but on horse back.

"Do you think history can repeat itself?" he asked softly as he dismounted the black beast. Jean-Claude just smiled and led him back to the blanket with gentle hands. No sooner had they reached it than the blonde found himself forced down while heady kisses smothered him.

"One can only hope," the Master of the City purred as his tongue darted out to stroke the seam of his lips. Asher's breathless moan allowed his tongue entrance and he arched off the blanket to meet his kiss with equal passion.

Talented fingers quickly began ridding Asher of his shirt. And, as each button was removed, Jean-Claude lay a hot kiss on each patch of skin that was revealed. No notice was taken as to whether the skin was unmarred and perfect or scarred and ravaged. As the younger vampire reached his navel Asher felt a hot tongue dart into his belly button and force a ragged groan off his lips.

When Jean-Claude looked up his eyes were dark with a knowledge that he could make his lover cry out of him with no more magic than anyone with practice had. Asher shuddered and forgot all about his scars and injuries.

All there was in the world was Jean-Claude's mouth kissing his skin and his hands pulling away the pressed grey silk pants.

Asher felt his pants fall away completely and his aching hard on felt the first touches of the cold night air. Moments later Asher dared to open eyes he'd never realized he closed. As blue met its darker equal Jean-Claude began to sway seductively to music only he could hear. The blonde was entranced as, painfully slow, each tie of the corset was removed and finally the leather fell away.

Jean-Claude's fingers slid over his bared stomach and began to slide the pants away, like pulling off a second skin. The boots had been lost long ago and the dark shine in his smile was all for Asher. Part of him wondered if Anita would be horribly mad but the larger part was too out of it with want to care. It wasn't magic, it wasn't the ardeur it was just pure, natural, carnal lust. Asher wanted Jean-Claude so much it hurt, things were just that simple.

When Jean-Claude was blessedly naked he fell upon the older blonde, tongues and lips and teeth battling until blood was spilled and only added fire to their kiss. Hands roamed and no one cared whether what they touched was smooth and pale or scarred and creamy.

Their hair, golden sunlight and the darkest night, fell together on the dark blanket and Jean-Claude once more kissed his way down Asher's body.

Asher jumped when the other man's hot mouth closed over his erection, tongue swirling along his length. Asher's hands balled in the black blanket and his head fell back. Blonde hair spilled around his face like a golden mockery of a halo, his face contorted in the throes of absolute pleasure. Jean-Claude's hair fell dark and silky in his lap, the delicate strands tickly over his skin and adding to the overwhelming sensations.

By the time Jean-Claude had worked his entire erection into his mouth Asher was so close to his climax that he wasn't thinking straight.
The sound that spilled from his lips when Jean-Claude pulled away before finishing the job was almost pained. But a soft laugh rolled from the younger man and a tube of personal lubricant was pulled from god knows where. A finger slid up Asher's dark hole and he gasped. The oily lubricant began to warm on contact and the feeling was unbelievable.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Jean-Claude pushed his length into Asher until he was bumping against his sweet spot. Asher licked his lips and in one moment Jean-Claude kissed him and slammed deeper into his body.

Their pace kicked off furious and needy. Anita was tender and soft under their bodies, she was sweet and both men loved her entirely but there was something so raw about their need for one another.

Someone was making a low keening noise and it took Asher a second to realize it was him. He lurched up and sank his teeth into Jean-Claude's throat. The blood that poured into his mouth held no sustenance, no ability to keep him alive but it tasted . . . oh it tasted like sex. There was a sharp pain as his lover bit into his throat and they fed from each other, Jean-Claude's hips never ceasing to plunge his cock into Asher. With an arching scream Asher felt himself give and he came hard, body curving into his lover's chest, blonde hair spilling down his back. Jean-Claude cried out sometime during Asher's orgasm and their screams of pleasure were lost as one.

Slowly they sank down into a tangle of limbs and spent passion. Asher could feel blood drying on his throat and lips as Jean-Claude cuddled into his chest, hair silky soft against all the bare skin.

Asher ran his fingers down his lover's spine. Each and every vertebra took a moment to stroke, touch and feel so the lazy trek of his hands was matched by his tongue drawing idle circles on the sensitive skin just back of Jean-Claude's ear.

"And they think history repeating itself is bad," Jean-Claude scoffed. Asher laughed then, pure and light and truly happy for the first time in too long.

questions?  comments?  email me  paranoir2@yahoo.com