#ikemen vampire Big Bang 2021

[luna-shewolf]

Hello! This is a piece I did with @ughloise on her fic she did for @ikevampbigbang event 2021.

It was so fun to draw something based on her fic so go check out her fic for Vincent. If you love Vincent it’s a must or if you just love anything for ikemen vampire! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

[ikevampbigbang]

Ikemen Vampire 2021

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[littlegrrl7]

A Dance for Three

Ikemen Vampire Big Bang 2021

Pairing: Comte/Leonardo/MC

Smut with plot 18+ NSFW

Masterlist for 7 chapters 17k words

read on Ao3

Chapter 5- Need

“Do you need help with your dress, ma chérie?”

It was a few days later, and Comte leaned in the doorway of her room. Niamh smiled at him through the mirror and nodded as she finished her makeup. A dainty lace mask lay on her dressing table to be tied on before the ball. Comte closed the door behind him, moving forward. His fingers traced the tiny rubies pinned into her elaborately coiffed hair.

“You look beautiful.”

“Comte, I’m not even dressed yet,” she laughed, plucking at her robe.

“You always look radiant to me. This is for you.” He handed her a slim jewelry box tied with a silvery bow. “I was going to give it to you this morning, but you left our bed far too early.”

Niamh rolled her eyes. Comte was still trying to convince her to move everything back into his room. Right now, she felt more comfortable having her own space. It didn’t stop her from ending up in his bed every night; the temptation of his body and the comfort of it wrapped around her was too great to deny. She opened the box, a beautiful jet collar studded with diamonds lay next to drop pendant earrings.

“This is lovely, Comte, thank you.”

“May I?” He lifted the necklace from the box. Niamh nodded and turned toward her mirror. He fastened the ornate chain around her neck with a gentle touch and arranged the teardrop-shaped gems hanging from it. Lifting the heavy drop earrings, he carefully attached them to her lobes.

“Magnificient,” Comte slowly pulled the shoulder of her robe down to kiss her silken bare flesh. His passionate, heated lips traveled upward, skimming the cool stones to worship her throat. He spun her on the small stool, hands unknotting the ties of her robe and sliding inside as if unwrapping a present.

“Comte,” Niamh gasped out as his hands cupped her bare breasts, thumbs fondling her nipples into tempting, cherry-colored peaks.

“Yes, mon cœur?” He kneeled before her, taking one breast almost fully into his mouth. Niamh bit the sleeve of her robe not to cry out.

“I need help into my dress, not out of it,” she teased breathlessly. He moved to her other breast circling it endlessly with the tip of his tongue. She moaned and felt that heat settle in her loins as her breasts grew heavy with desire. She wanted him touching her, everywhere, now. Niamh leaned back, letting the robe fall open. He pushed it off her shoulders to drop in graceful folds on the floor.

“So very beautiful, in only my gifts.” He stood then, tracing a finger lightly over the curve of her ear, setting the earring to sway.

Niamh slid her hands to his hips; her eyes moved down to his obvious arousal. She licked her lips, and Comte chuckled softly.

“Do you hunger for me, as I do for you?” He cupped her cheeks, raising her eyes to meet his.

“Yes.” Niamh slid her thumb over his tented pants, feeling the hard length of him through the smooth fabric.

“Niamh, let me feel your mouth around me.”

She freed his erection from his pants, sliding her hands along his heavy, thick length before gripping his hips. Comte watched as crimson painted lips swallowed him down. Niamh’s tongue lapped at his crown before sliding his cock deeper to be caressed hotly by her throat. He cupped her head, a soft moan rising from his lips.

“Yes, that’s it - a little harder, ma chérie.”

Her cheeks hollowed as she acquiesced to his desires. Fingers digging into his hips, Niamh pulled him into her, sucking the hard, silken length of his member. She drew off, placing small kisses along the head, lapping at his slit. Comte watched, glorying in the very private erotic show. He wouldn't mind sharing this view, it was exquisite. The graceful way her shoulders flexed as Niamh held him to her was enticing.. Her back arched, pressing those succulent breasts to his skin. She squirmed and undulated with each suck, seeking friction for the wetness between her thighs. He gazed down, seeing the half-moon curve of her pale bottom over her mass of golden copper curls. How he wanted to taste her right now, but that wasn’t in the plans just yet.

“Mmm, such a good girl…” He gripped her shoulder as she feathered her tongue on the underside of his cock. Looking down, he could see the enticing ring of red her lip rouge left on his flesh. Her teeth dragged along his length, and he almost lost his mind. He held her steady, thrusting into her mouth. Niamh’s gaze caught his, and her eyes darkened in passion to midnight blue. She grinned around his cock, and he almost lost control. God, how he loved her.

He reached down, tweaking her cherry tipped nipples, and she groaned against his hard length. Then moaned again as she tasted him, her tongue lathing over his swollen head, catching every drop. She sucked down on him, her head bobbing faster. Her hand came up, fondling his balls, stroking the skin, pulling them tight. Comte’s eyes rolled back, and he let out a whimpering moan.

“Niamh…drink me down.” She drew on him hard and then caressed his thighs as he came. His hoarse cries echoed through the room.

Niamh swallowed, then kissed along his stomach. Comte collapsed to his knees, his head resting in her lap. Her hands feathered through his silky hair, a soft smile graced her lips to see him so spent. He nuzzled into her coppery blond curls, his tongue flicking out to taste her. Comte’s strong arms surrounded her hips, pulling her close. He traced soft kisses along her thighs, lapping up her arousal.

“Let’s get you in your gown, then shall we?” He rose, an impish light in his eyes.

“Comte?” Niamh squirmed in her seat. He had never left her wanting before. The ache to be touched was almost unbearable.

“Yes, ma chérie?” He fastened his pants, straightening his clothes. Stepping to her bed where her underpinnings were laid out, he retrieved her chemise.

“I…we have time…certainly, you aren’t going to leave me-“

“Come now, into your chemise.” He slid it down over her head, his fingers lightly brushing from her aching breasts to her sensitive hips, then teasingly dragging over her swollen clit. She lifted her hips, following the motion, but he ghosted away.

“Comte…” a frustrated hiss through clenched teeth. He kept the light smile on his face, sliding the corset over her form, fondling her breasts into the garment. He took her hand to stand, then placed it on the bedpost.

“That’s a good girl, keep your hands on the post like that, just for me.” His hand slid up her inner thigh, barely brushing against her soaked slit. Fingers traced wetly over her lush, round ass cheeks before moving to lace her corset. With a small hum, he picked up her bodice, setting it nearby.

“Comte, you are killing me,” Niamh panted out. Comte moved back to the bed, tossed her bloomers to the side, studied her stockings a moment, and then picked up her crinoline.

“Step into that for me, ma chérie?”

She cocked her head curiously, then obliged. Was he really going to fully dress her before giving her some release from this maddening pressure? Comte carefully fastened all the gown's underpinnings, then slid the claret satin bodice over her head. With deft fingers, he pulled the laces tight. Comte stood so close she could feel her bottom pressing to his firm hips with each tug. Another turn and he was dropping the dress over her head and arranging it over her bodice.

“Have a seat on the stool.” He rummaged through her armoire, then pulled out a pair of red silk stockings with black garter ribbons. “I want you to wear these tonight and nothing else under your gown.” He pushed her skirts up, sliding the silk along her legs, tying the bows to her thighs. His amber eyes met hers, and he slid long fingers through the soft, wet folds of her arousal.

  Finally.

Then he withdrew, licking his fingers off. A soft cry of protest rose in her throat.

“You are enchantingly delicious, ma chérie.” He took Niamh’s hand, helping her to rise.

“Now, unfortunately, a few things came up that I must attend to prior to the ball tonight, so I will meet you there.” He settled the mask on her face, tying it artistically into her still perfectly coiffed hair.

“Leonardo will be here shortly to escort you. I’ll join the two of you later tonight.”

Niamh’s mouth made a little ‘o’ as she stared at Comte through her lace mask. Comte picked up the small pot of crimson lip rouge and used the brush to delicately reapply it to her now swollen, pouty lips.

“He said yes?”

“With the way you look right now, so wound up and needy. The way your perfume drenches the air…how could he resist?”

She continued to stare at him in disbelief.

“Enjoy your time with Leonardo. I’ll join the two of you soon enough.” He kissed her forehead and left.

Comte walked down the hall, humming to himself. He still needed to get dressed, but he had plenty of time. He turned the corner and rapped on the door to Leonardo’s room. The door swung open, the warm scent of clove cigarillos flowed out into the hall.

“Ah, Comte, you are early.” Leo tied his cravat, then nervously untied it with a frustrated grunt. He stepped back, allowing the blond to enter his room.

“I’m afraid something has come up, and I’ll be running a little late.” His fingers brushed aside Leonardo’s as he looped the dark burgundy cravat into an elaborate knot, securing it with a jet colored pin. “Could I trouble you to escort Niamh to the ball, I’ll catch up with the two of you later tonight?”

“Escort her? Without you?” Leonardo raised his brow, “Scusa, Comte, but I don’t want to be alone again with Niamh. It’s just too painful to-“

Warm lips covered Leonardo’s mouth, silencing his fears. Comte's familiar, comforting taste soaked into his soul, along with the enticing scent of female musk that lightly scented his skin.

“I want you to show her a good time. I will join the two of you later,” Comte whispered against his lips, “You agreed to try.”

“You taste of her,” Leonardo moaned, leaning in to kiss him again.

The corner of Comte’s lip curled upward, “I assure you the flavor is more exquisite from the source.”

Comte lifted Leo’s suit jacket from a nearby chair, “There is a carriage waiting out front to take you, I’ll be an hour or so behind you. It gives the two of you time to become reacquainted, yes?”

Leonardo nodded, pulling the jacket on. Comte straightened it then ran his fingers affectionately through his ash-brown hair, smoothing it back.

“Go on, Niamh is waiting for you.”

Leonardo raised his hand to knock on the door as it swung open, and Niamh nearly stepped into him. She gazed upward, startled sky-blue eyes wide. Her tongue darted out, licking rouged lips nervously, and she let out a little gasped ‘o’.

His heightened senses picked up the scent of Comte on her; he noted her flushed features and swollen lips. Damn the man, he had done it on purpose. Leonardo licked his lips, inhaling the enticing scent deeply.

Niamh was lovely, even more so than he had ever seen her.

His attraction to her had always been difficult to deny. He had constantly reminded his analytical mind not to fall in love with this woman, that she would be gone in a blink. That Niamh would age before his eyes and be dust, leaving him a heartbroken ruin.

“Hello.” She smiled, and he felt a dull ache stabbing his heart, followed by a tightening in his groin.

“Hello.” Dammit... he needed a smoke, “Comte sent me. He’s detained and asked me to escort you to the Midsummer Ball.”

A lock of her strawberry blonde hair clung to the lace of her mask. Leo lifted his hand, gently brushing it from her cheek to tuck it behind her ear. She leaned into his touch, lashes fluttering.

“I see,” Niamh whispered but remained standing in the doorway, staring up at him. His eyes wandered over her perfectly coiffed hair, to the lovely jewelry down to how her bodice scooped up her breasts, displaying them against the claret satin of her dress. His mouth went dry.

“You look enchanting, cara mia.” He offered his hand.

“Are you enchanted, Leonardo?” She placed her hand in his letting him guide her forward.

“I have been since the first time my lips tasted yours.”

A sweet flush covered her cheeks, and Niamh looked down as he folded her hand into the crook of his arm. Leonardo led her down the hall to the foyer, guiding her down the grand staircase.

Outside, the air was still stifling; he handed her up into the carriage then sat beside her. With a smile, he gave her a black lace fan.

“It will likely be warm. I know this isn’t your first ball. I’m sure Comte has taken you to every one in this area.”

“He does enjoy his social events.” Niamh flipped the fan open, angling it to cool them both.

“I am certain they have become more enjoyable for him with such an alluring partner.”

“Leonardo,” she grinned, playfully tapping his shoulder with the fan, “such flattery. What’s a lady to think?”

“That I’d like a second chance with you, Niamh. Forgiveness for my poor decisions and a clean slate for our future.” His hand covered hers. Leo angled toward her as the carriage began to roll toward their destination.

In answer, she leaned forward, one small hand pressed to his chest. Her lips brushed warmly to his in the faintest of touches.

“Done,” she whispered. Leonardo brought his arms around her, cradling her to him for another kiss. Then he savored a third. The feel of her lips against his was addictive. He could still smell the faintest trace of Comte’s musk on her, and it was all the more alluring.

Her tongue traced his lower lip; he captured it with his own then growled low, pulling her onto his lap.

“Naughty girl, you come to the ball still tasting of him.” He plundered her mouth, arms tight around her, lapping every savory bit up. Niamh gasped against his lips, her faint flush rising to a bright crimson as she realized he knew Comte’s taste. Niamh imagined the two men sharing passions. Her mind blinked back to watching them that day. The aggressive way Leo had moved over him. Warmth bloomed low in her stomach. She twisted in his lap, feeling the wetness against her thighs. Leonardo’s nostrils flared, and a wolfish grin tugged at his lips. He pulled back, his golden eyes dark as he slid his hand under her skirts, along the smooth silk of her stockings. They watched each other as his fingers quested higher. Leonardo traced the satin garter ribbons and how the lace pressed to the softness of her thighs.

She didn’t stop him.

Her thighs parted. And Leo's fingertips lightly brushed against her damp curls. He moaned, his lips going to her neck.

“You are wet for me…” His fingers stroked her then, exploring gently. Leonardo held her close, his lips moving over her throat above her necklace. Niamh's answer was a low whimper, her hips chasing the sensation, begging for more.

Leonardo slid one finger inside her quivering depths, his thumb stroking over that sensitive bundle of nerves that made her breath catch at each small swipe.

“Have you thought of me in this way, cara mia? Fantasized of me touching you like this?” She nodded wordlessly, but the crimson blush that raised to the very tips of her ears spoke volumes. Leonardo’s lips moved to hers again, gentle this time, swallowing her moans and soft gasps as his fingers worked in and out of her tight silken sheath. He wanted to undress her now, ached to see her breasts, to taste her skin.

With a soft gasp, she came. Her body fluttered around his finger, gripping him. He sucked her lower lip then pulled back to gaze at her face. There was not a more beautiful woman in this world. Gently he withdrew but couldn’t resist licking her taste from his fingers. He settled her against his chest, her head lolling in contented bliss.

“I’ve dreamed of you many times, but it was nothing compared to this.” He tenderly brushed a kiss over her forehead. Slowly their surroundings invaded his senses -the sway of the carriage, the clop of the horse’s shod hooves. He touched the edge of her black lace mask, and her sky-blue eyes focused on him.

“I have dreamed of you, but I tucked it away as an impossible thing. Leo, what changed your mind?” She sat up, straightening her dress. Leonardo draped an arm around her shoulders, still longing for her touch, the warmth of her body. He pulled a cigarillo out of his breast pocket, then tapped it thoughtfully against the window frame.

“An ache that never left from the night I denied you. A loneliness that swelled when I realized I had lost you both. I told myself I could live without.” He lit the cigarillo one-handed, shaking his head. “It was a lie.”

“I’ve never been with two-“ she started.

“I know.” He knew of her relative innocence when she had arrived at the mansion.

“This may not work.” Niamh gnawed her lip, wringing her hands in her lap.

“Time abides long enough for those who make use of it. I would deeply regret not giving us a chance.” His burnished gold eyes shone with ardent affection when she looked up at him. He took a long drag then blew the smoke out the window.

“Besides, I can’t let the blond devil have all the fun.”

Niamh’s laughter floated out of the carriage, making both of their hearts lighter.

[littlegrrl7]

A Dance for Three

Ikemen Vampire Big Bang 2021

Pairing: Comte/Leonardo/MC

Smut with plot 18+ NSFW

Masterlist for 7 chapters 17k words

read on Ao3

Chapter 7- Consummation

 Niamh waited in the shadows, wrapped in Leonardo’s embrace, as Comte spoke to a man at the entrance to the labyrinth. She caught snippets of the conversation,

 The maze was closed, the man apologized, the garden was undergoing renovations.

 Niamh strained to hear, distracted as she was by Leonardo’s fingers stroking along her ribs, his thumbs brushing the undercurve of her breast before he pulled her back against his chest. His lips were hot on her neck, eagerly sucking at her flesh. She bit her lip to hold in a moan and saw the liveried servant glance at her before accepting a small pouch from Comte. He then stepped aside with a bow, lowering his eyes.

 “It would seem Comte has procured us a private place to view tonight’s fireworks, cara mia,” Leonardo whispered into her ear with a low chuckle. He took her hand, leading her forward. Comte gestured them into the hedge maze with a sly grin as he fell into step behind them.

 Niamh was quickly lost in the darkness just a few steps in. She stumbled slightly on the uneven path.

 “Comte, I can’t see.”

 He glanced up at the nearly full moon. To his eyes, everything was awash in silvery light. He could easily pick out each leaf of the high twisting bushes that flanked the stone path. He glanced at Leonardo, and the large man nodded, then swept Niamh up into his arms in a bridal carry.

 Leonardo kissed her, his lips lingering on hers until he felt her body melt against his; Comte moved to face them, nuzzling into her neck, his hand sliding under her skirts to trace her silk stockings up to her thigh.

 “Is that better, mon cœur?” Comte questioned as Leonardo released her from his kiss. Niamh nodded, and he brushed a light kiss onto her warmed lips then leaned closer, his mouth on Leonardo’s. The larger man gasped in surprise then moaned, his arms tightening around Niamh. She watched them, lips meeting as if they had been starved, the passion in that small touch spoke volumes. Niamh didn’t know how Leonardo could have possibly denied his feelings for Comte for so long. It was obvious it was deeper than a casual desire for intimacy. They parted with a soft sigh, Comte glanced at her, a slight flush on his pale cheeks. She winked.

 “It seems I have a good seat for the show,” her saucy tone made Leo laugh. He lifted her higher, adjusting his grip.

 “Hold tight, cara mia, while we find the center of the labyrinth.”

 The warmth radiating off him made Niamh feel languid and tight all at the same time. Her arm was up over his shoulder, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Comte walked before them. Every time he paused, Leonardo would nuzzle her neck; and then move lower, placing soft kisses on the swell of her breasts. Niamh heard a faint rattle as Comte pushed open an iron gate, and the three of them entered a partially landscaped clearing.

 “Ah, here we are.” He held his hand out to her as Leo set her feet on the ground.

 Niamh stepped forward into the moonlit courtyard in the center of the labyrinth. Buckets of plants and piles of stone lay to one side. A sizable open stonework gazebo was in the center. Comte took her hand, smoothly bringing her against him. His fingers trailed along her jaw, tipping her head up. His lips covered hers long and slow, his tongue swept along her lower lip then teased lightly at hers. He led her forward, seating her astride the stone bench at the center of the structure. Wordlessly he sat behind her, his lips going to the seductively pale curve of her neck. Niamh's eyes caught Leonardo’s as he hesitated at the entrance, she beckoned him forward, then drew him into a sweet kiss. Leaning forward, she whispered into his ear:

 “Unlace my dress.”

 Burnished gold eyes studied her a moment, then his fingers moved to the front laces, slowly untying them. His gaze moved from her to Comte questioningly as the dress loosened around her slim form, dropping from her shoulders. Comte growled his approval, his lips moving to cover the now bared flesh. Niamh’s fingers caressed the lapels of Leo’s jacket, and then she pulled him into her embrace, slanting her lips over his. Leo moaned low against her lips, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks. Comte tugged the dress down to her waist, his deft fingers already working at the lacings of her underpinnings.

 Her hands dragged down Leonardo’s chest, hooking into his pants. He drew back as he felt Niamh unfasten them, his cock falling heavily into her soft hands.

 “Let me taste you?” she whispered against his cheek. His eyes flew open, catching Comte’s knowing gaze. The blond gave him a small nod as he finished loosening the stays of her corset and slid the garment off. A slight tug, and her chemise pooled around her waist, leaving her glorious breasts bare. Leo stood, a strangled gasp parted his throat as he felt Niamh’s hot mouth glide over the hard length of him. Her fingers tugged his pants down further, thumbs stroking along the sharp, sculpted line of his hips. Leo watched her cheeks hollow as she drew him in.

 Comte’s hands slid forward, both concealing and revealing her breasts in a teasing way. Leo caught a glimpse of her bright red nipples flushed and tight with her pleasure like ripe little cherries. God, how he desired to suck on them. His hips moved, thrusting shallowly into her sweet mouth. Comte stood and watched them a moment while he undressed. Then, naked, he moved closer, his hand stroking down Leonardo's back, squeezing a handful of his tight ass. Their lips met. Fangs dragged over Leo’s plush lower lip, and his soft pleading whimper entwined with the night. Comte pulled the larger man’s jacket off, tossing it onto the bench, then untied the carefully knotted cravat with a wicked grin.

 “I always loved the look of you half-clothed,” his voice was husky as he undid the pearl buttons on his dress shirt, leaving it to hang open. Comte ran a hand down his chest, traced Niamh’s cheek, then cupped his balls, tugging pleasurably. The sensation of his hands and Niamh’s questing mouth were overwhelming. Leo tipped his head back, his lashes fluttering closed on his cheeks. Comte sat again behind Niamh, his fingers stroking her thighs, then moving higher to dip into her silky folds.

 “Ahh, Leonardo, you’ve made her so wet, so welcoming for me.” A few more strokes with his fingers and Comte gently lifted her up onto his lap, sinking his cock into her heat. Niamh moaned against Leo, taking him as deep as she could. She started moving on Comte’s lap, his hands sliding forward again, one stroking her clit teasingly the other cupping her left breast.

 Leo watched him teasing her, even as her nimble tongue slid over him, coaxing waves of pleasure through his body. Her hands moved lower, cupping his ass, bringing him into her. He growled softly, his hands moving to her shoulders. Comte grinned and nipped his fingers then took one into his mouth, sucking it in rhythm with his thrusting hips. It was all too much on his senses, and it had been so long. He felt himself tighten at the sensation. His breaths more ragged, He cupped Niamh’s cheek.

 “Niamh, I won’t last much longer,” he gritted out, doing his best to hold back. She stroked the flat of her tongue along the sensitive underside, and everything in him roared to completion. He thrust hard, her fingers dug into his ass, pulling him tight to her as her throat flexed on his cock. She swallowed, then gasped against him. Leo immediately straddled the bench before her, his hands stroking her face, holding her close. Comte slowed his strokes, drawing them out into something akin to sensual torture.

 Niamh looked into Leo’s burnished gold eyes, a smile curling her passion swollen lips.

 “I like the way you taste.”

 His lips covered hers again, then moved lower, finally tasting and teasing her pouty nipples. She pressed her forehead to his shoulder, her breathless moans caressed his skin. Comte’s hands slid to her hips, rocking her back into him. The sensation of his smooth hands on her hips and Leo’s rough ones on her breasts was more exquisite than she had ever imagined. She leaned back against Comte, eyes closed as her body trembled, clenching down on the hard length of him. Her hands twined through Leonardo's hair as he suckled her nipples, nipping them lightly, playing just to hear her soft cries, and then she was coming. He covered her lips with his swallowing down her loud squeals of pleasure. A few more thrusts and Comte grunted, spending himself within her. His head pressed to her shoulder blades, soft blond hair tickling along her skin.

 They panted together in the moonlight. Soft touches and softer words echoed between the three lovers. Leonardo embraced Niamh to him, then let his hands drift to Comte, grazing down the bare flesh of his ribs in a tender caress. Amber eyes opened, and the man raised his head to gaze at his oldest friend.

 A sparkle of golden light in the sky followed by a crackle startled the three of them, and then Leonardo let out a soft chuckle.

 “Ah, see, we are on time for the show.”

 “Thank goodness you have impeccable timing,” Niamh teased back as she slid off Comte to rest nestled between his thighs. His arms went around her, his lips nuzzling affectionately against her neck.

 Murmured ‘I love yous’ suddenly had Leonardo feeling as if he was intruding on their moment. He stood, red light glowing over him from a flower bloom of fireworks.

 “Leo?” Niamh looked up, confused. Her skirts were in disarray, her pinned hair falling down in loose coppery coils, his eyes moved to her chest, then back up to her face. She was stunning disheveled like this. He wanted to hold her, to let this night continue. To be included. But perhaps it was time to go; it was nice that they allowed him to share in their affections for this one moment.

 Comte watched him silently, not wanting to sway his decision. It would hurt terribly if the man threw up his walls again now. He clenched a fist in Niamh’s skirts and waited.

 Niamh rose, “Leo, can you help me get these skirts off? It’s so hot, I’m sure it will be more comfortable for you to lay against my skin.”

 And there it was, Comte tilted his head with a smile.

 Leo stepped forward into her arms, his hands going to the fastenings on her skirts, ghosting along the silk of her skin as he slid them off. He let her lead him back. Niamh reclined against Comte, shadowed in a glitter of blue and gold as the sky lit up behind her. She pulled Leo down to lie between her thighs. He nestled his head in her lap with a soft sigh, his fingers tracing the red silk of her stockings.

 A burst of crimson and gold went off. Niamh trailed her fingers through his hair, then caressed his broad shoulders.

 “Isn’t that better?” She murmured to him.

 “Almost…” Leonardo turned his head, nuzzling into her passion soaked skin. The scent of her and Comte surrounded him, and it drove him to drag one long slow lick up her slit. To have both of them at once was divine, a dream, certainly something he’d never thought to suggest. He nuzzled into her deeper, she gasped writhing, and he felt Comte pin Niamh down, holding her still.

 “Now, now, ma chérie, you invited the man between your thighs, hold still while he feasts on you.” Comte’s hands went back to her breasts. She felt his fangs drag slowly over her shoulder then tease the sensitive skin at the join of her throat. Leo’s tongue plunged inside her, and she bucked only to have Comte hold her down firmer with a low chuckle. Leonardo hummed in pleasure against her soaked pussy.

 “Ahh, Comte, she gushes and clenches every time you pin her. I never thought sweet Niamh would like such things.” He blew a breath of cool air over her heated flesh, and she groaned. Comte tweaked her bright cherry nipples, and the squeal was barely covered by the next boom of fireworks.

 “She is a treasure, mon ami, one we are both happy to share with you.”

 Leonardo nestled back in, lapping her like sweet cream. At her moans, his fangs dropped, sliding over her swollen skin. He reached up, grasping Comte’s hand at her hip.

 Comte lathed her neck, sucking it gently until she cried out under him. He gave Leonardo a wink, his fangs extending, then slipped them painlessly into her ivory flesh.

 Niamh trembled, her thighs shaking with the waves of pleasure and heat radiated outward from his bite. Leonardo lapped and teased, his fangs lightly tracing her most delicate flesh.

 “Leo, please?” she was mindless with pleasure. The pleading tone sent him over the edge. He sunk his fangs into the softness of her inner thigh, drinking down her sweet life essence mixed with the juices of her pleasure. The climax of booming fireworks drowned out her cries. Niamh went limp, a pleasant, sated smile on her lips.

 Leo raised himself up, wiping his chin with a smile. His burnished golden eyes met with Comte’s, and he leaned forward for a slow, passionate kiss. Leonardo leaned back, gazing over the blissed-out smiling Niamh. She had slid down now, so her head rested in Comte’s lap. The double bite sent her into an erotic dream state.

 “You know this isn’t just for tonight.” Comte reached out tracing Leonardo’s cheek, then tenderly cupped the back of his head, bringing him in for another kiss. Leonardo leaned into it, relishing the taste of him. “When I asked you to join us, I intended for you to share our lives, not just an evening’s entertainment.”

 “Are you certain? I’ve seen you be possessive with Niamh. You won’t let other men dance with her at social functions. How can you-“

 “Because it’s you, Leo. I don’t feel the jealousy when it’s you. It just feels…” Comte paused a moment, he took Leo’s hand in his, resting it tenderly on Niamh’s shoulder.

 “Right,” Leonardo gave Comte’s hand a gentle squeeze.

 “We should get her home and tucked into our bed.” Comte gazed down at Niamh resting content in his arms, naked in the hot summer air except for those silky red stockings. “I’d like it if you’d join us to sleep.”

 “I’d love that.” Leonardo leaned in for another kiss, one of many to come.

[littlegrrl7]

A Dance for Three

Ikemen Vampire Big Bang 2021

Pairing: Comte/Leonardo/MC

Smut with plot 18+ NSFW

Masterlist for 7 chapters 17k words

read on Ao3

Chapter 1- Mornings

This was the best way to wake in the morning…

Niamh stretched sleepily, her eyes opening to the shadows of branches reaching across the wall in the early light of the day. She was puzzled for a moment by the absence of Comte, but then his weight shifted the mattress, and the silkiness of his honey-blond hair caressed her inner thighs. She gasped when she felt the heat of his tongue glide teasingly over her folds, seeking to go deeper.

Niamh swept the covers aside so she could gaze down at her lover. His one hand splayed over her stomach. Comte’s greedy mouth sucked her flesh to a swollen, sensitive bead of desire.

Lust darkened amber eyes glanced up to meet hers, and a smile tugged at his lips.

“Good morning, ma chérie.” A gust of hot breath brushed against her flesh at the join of her hip.

She sighed in languid pleasure. “It is. You’ll spoil me, mon cœur,” Niahm teased, her back involuntarily arching to him as he sucked once again on her tempting bud.

“I am certain you will somehow endure,” he murmured against her passion slicked skin. Comte’s fangs dragged along her flesh, sending tiny thrills through her body. How she loved the way he made her feel, special, cherished, loved. He spoiled her with how much love and support he brought into her life. She never regretted staying in this time with Comte and loving him with every bit of herself that she could.

Niamh trembled under him, and he raised his body to gift her with another devilish smile. His fingers reached up to toy with one taut nipple, the peak turning a deep cherry color. Purring in appreciation, he moved to the other. She moaned, twisting under his admiring gaze. She thought after a few months, these types of mornings would become rare; instead, it seemed to be his favorite way to herald the dawn, as if he held each day with her as a sacred gift.

The flat of his tongue dragged a long, slow path up her slit, and her groans echoed in their room, a welcomingly familiar melody. Niamh’s hands feathered through his hair then gripped insistently as he buried his face in her deeper. His name was a breathless moan on her lips. He nibbled and sucked, teasing another sweet song from her before finally sliding a long, pale finger into her depths. She pressed against him with a pleading noise. Comte leaned back to watch the myriad of expressions flit over her features. His thumb strummed a tender rhythm against her swollen flesh.

“Comte, you tease…” Her hips undulated pleadingly. Skillful fingers stroked inside her, curling and thrusting.

“Am I?” He nuzzled into her golden coppery curls, breathing in that delicious musk of feminine arousal.

Niamh twisted under him, gasping as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. Slowing the strokes, Comte built the tension within her. His lips brushed over her hips, then moved to worship her navel. She sighed as those first soft ripples took her. Vampire or not, he was a very skillful lover. She didn’t need the gift of pleasure his bite would bring, but she knew it was coming. Fangs dropped to drag in sinful temptation over her flesh. He’d drink from her soon; he did almost every time they made love. Comte would draw it out with teasing first, making her plead and beg. He adored those high-pitched, breathy squeals that would come when she was teetering on edge.

“You are,” Niamh breathed out, biting down on the fullness of her lower lip as another tremor shook her. She gazed down at Comte, nestled between her thighs. So beautiful, he looked more angel than man. His lithe, pale body twisted to move up hers. Comte's eyes flashed almost gold, and he grazed her nipple with his fangs causing her to clench on his finger. He chuckled, that deep seductive sound thrummed through her, and he slid in another. His tongue stroked in time with those questing fingers, covering her nipple in light, feathery strokes. Niahm's cries grew pleading for something harder, for release. He shifted again, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. His mouth played at the soft, tender skin there, his bites from the previous evening barely healed.

Niamh moaned, straining against him. Comte softly kissed each mark, each proclamation of his love, each declaration that she was his. Her hips raised, grinding against his hand, seeking more.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered against her throat, his hot breath caressing the shell of her ear. He heard her sharp intake of breath, lifted his gaze to see her cheeks flaming crimson. Still so sweetly shy, it tugged at his heart.

“How can I please you if I don’t know what you desire? I guess I’ll just,” he thumbed the swollen hood of her clit back then flicked the firmly nubbed flesh making her squeal, “hold you on the cusp until you remember how to use your words.”

Amber eyes watched her, his grin sly. Niahm’s jaw clenched, trying to squeeze out a coherent sentence between gasping moans. She licked her lips, and Comte could barely restrain himself from exploring her mouth until she was limp with pleasure.

“I want you.”

“As evidenced.” He pulled his fingers out, coated in her juices. Watching Niamh, his tongue lapped along the slick skin, savoring her taste. She clenched her thighs together, already missing him inside her.

“Filling me. I need you kissing my mouth. To taste you. To taste me on you,” Niahm's voice was husky and edged with lust. Comte leaned forward, his lips a breath away from hers.

“Like this?” His tongue flitted out to slide along the sweet plushness of her lower lip. She tried to entice his tongue in with hers; he allowed the barest whisper of a touch. His hand ghosted back down her ribs, cupping her breast then lower to stroke the swell of her hip. Niamh melted against him, pliant in his hands.

“More?” She curved one leg up around his slender hip, grinding her sex along his length. Comte growled low against her lips, then deepened the kiss. He turned her in his arms, cradling her back to his chest. Comte’s lips traced over each mark on her neck, his tongue lapping at them like a flame. He pulled one leg back over his hip, sliding the head of his cock over her slick skin.

“Is this what you want, ma chérie?”

The curve of her ass fit deliciously into the firmness of his hip; she writhed back against him, pushing him into her.

“It’s a good start,” she panted.

Comte’s soft laugh whispered against the curve of Niamh’s neck, fangs lengthened to drag a passionate path along her flesh. Slow lazy thrusts punctuated by tender kisses set a sensual rhythm. Skillful hands cupped her heavy, aching breasts. Comte caressed her sensitive nipples until Niamh's gasping breaths sung in his ears.

The sweet smell of her lilac perfume mingled with the rich scent of her lust. The vampire nuzzled into his lover’s soft flesh, inhaling deeper. He loved waking to her in the morning, her warm body next to his, begging for his touch. Comte lost himself in her breathy cries, rhythmically thrusting into her soft depths. The feel of her firm bottom pressing insistently back against him tore a low moan from his throat.

Niamh’s sweet, panting pleas grew louder. His fingers traced down her flesh, stroking her hip, then slipped between her thighs to fondle her into a wild frenzy.

“Comte, please-“ the rest of what Niamh said got lost in a hoarse cry, smothered into the pillows. Her body squeezed tight around his in sensual bliss, and he spilled soon after, relishing the way she milked every last drop from him. He slid against her silken clutch well after he had started to go soft, still enjoying the sensation of being inside her—the enticing pulse of her along his length.

“I love you.” Comte placed a small kiss behind her ear.

“Mmm, I love you too. That was a wonderful way to wake up,” Niamh glanced at the wall clock across the room, “However, Sebastian will likely skin me alive if I’m not down to serve breakfast in ten minutes.” The last words slipped out on a groan of remorse.

“You could stay here with me, ma chérie. I would never let you come to harm.” He enfolded her in his arms, fingers stroking lightly over the alluring softness of her body.

“While that is tempting, I should get up to help,” Niamh grumbled out, pushing herself out of bed to rise.

“Niamh, you know you can choose to do something else if you find the house tasks no longer to your tastes?” Comte propped himself up on one arm, watching her quickly wash off and dress. The light gleamed off her plush curves, highlighting the reddened marks he had left on her neck. Her nipples were still that deep cherry color. Comte watched her breasts bounce enticingly as she pulled on her clothes. It was tempting to make his lover late, to spend the entire day in their bed.

“I know, I’m still considering our talk. But until you hire more maids, it is what it is.” She bent over, placing a sweet, chaste kiss on his cheek. Comte swept Niamh up, dragging her back into their bed for a deeper taste. His lips moved over her like a man starved. Niamh’s protest died as she returned his affection, her tongue sliding against his in a wicked dance.

“If it were up to you, we would never leave the bedroom,” she teased, placing a tender kiss on his forehead. Her eyes were warm with the love she had for him. Comte cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing the plushness of her lower lip.

“And the downside of that would be?” He grinned as she attempted to get up, tightening his hold.

“You beast! Let me go! If I’m late, I’ll receive such a forehead flick from that silver-haired jerk that I’ll look like a unicorn.” Her laughter carried out into the hall as Niahm left him. Comte fell back into the sheets breathing in the luscious scent of their lovemaking. Glancing at the clock, he then closed his eyes; there was time to enjoy this luxury.

The scent moved around Leonardo, elusive as an ungranted wish. It drifted on the breeze from the open window, mingling with the sweet smell of fluffy pancakes and the spice of the roasted breakfast sausages. Oh, it was an undeniably familiar scent.

He inhaled deeper as Niamh finished serving breakfast and sat down across from him to eat.

“Good morning, Leo.” Her smile was pure sunshine. The light behind her spun her strawberry blond hair into silken coppery fire. Again, he regretted choosing to keep his distance from her, his excuse that their lives were far too different. He regretted only having that one taste of her. The first night she arrived, he had kissed her to calm her hysteria.

Oh, the taste of Niamh. Sweet as the spring, warm and gentle as a summer day. He longed to taste her again, but knew no good could come of it. He had seen her interest and brushed it off. He thought she would be gone in a month. That she would return to her life, find a man to love who could grow old with her.

A poor, bitter thing cried inside his soul, broken and wanting.

“Cara mia, you are looking particularly lovely this morning.” He let his eyes rove over her pouty swollen lips, the way her blouse was primly buttoned to the collar. A lace-edged scarf wrapped her neck—no doubt to cover lover’s marks from Comte.

The pain thumped in his chest again.

A sweet flush rose on her cheeks. Niamh shifted, and he saw her slight wince. Not one of pain but one that reminded her how much pleasure she had experienced recently. He could smell the musk of lovemaking still clinging to her flesh.

It could have been him. His heart thudded dully.

Leonardo’s eyes again returned to her face to see she was studying him, a look that was not entirely innocent. It was obvious she had been in Comte’s arms no more than an hour ago, and yet that was interest in her gaze.

He licked his lips and watched Niamh’s beautiful sky-blue eyes track the motion.

She glanced down again, breaking the soul-rending contact. Her hand fidgeted a moment, then picked up her coffee cup for a sip. Leo's eyes dropped to her hand. He remembered holding it as he told her they couldn’t be together. The night he broke her heart. Niamh’s tears had felt like acid as each one soaked through his shirt to burn into his skin. It was just over a year ago. He had expected her to go back to her own time, to leave and live her life.

“Good morning, Leonardo.” Comte finished fastening his cufflink as he came into the dining room, then leaned into Niamh for a lingering kiss.

Christ, he smelled amazing—that mix of leather polish and black tea, male musk, and the faintest trace of feminine arousal. Leonardo exhaled and put that relaxed smile on his face.

“Late start there today, Comte?” He grinned wolfishly. The blond flashed a grin back.

“I had some things I needed to attend to this morning.”

A wink.

Leonardo remembered those mornings, lying in Comte’s bed, the two of them twined together as the sun rose. Feeling that pleasurable ache the next day.

That was the rub of it. The two men had been casual lovers. If Leonardo had known when he gave up Niamh that he would lose Comte's comfort, would his choice had been different?

Leo studied his friend for a moment, a sigh escaping him. He did miss the man’s bed.

Comte raised a brow, giving him a questioning look.

“Heading into town. Can I get either of you anything?” Leonardo rose from the table. He’d had enough torture for one morning. He should look into moving into his own place. The idea of watching the glow of the two of them for the next few decades twisted his gut. And if Comte turned Niamh, it would go on for centuries.

“Would you like company? I believe Niamh is off work for the rest of the day.” Comte said in an offhanded manner. Niamh popped a strawberry in her mouth, Leo’s eyes once again went to the softness of her lips, imagining them doing the naughtiest things. He blinked.

Comte watched him appraisingly, then his amber eyes flitted back to his lover.

“I’m busy all day, so I’m afraid I can’t join the two of you.” Comte rested a hand on Niamh’s shoulder, squeezing gently, “Ma chérie, I’m sure Leonardo would be happy for your company.”

  What the hell?

Leo’s eyes widened, then he covered up the look as Niamh made a little questioning noise. Comte knew what had happened. He was the one that soothed the woman after Leo rejected her. Sure, they had remained friends, but his heart still ached. He wasn’t surprised when she took up with Comte; he was surprised when she decided to stay.

“Certainly, I could always use the company.” Traitorous lips. This was going to be a torturous hell spending a day alone with her. He had done his best in the last year to melt into the background, to be impartial to watch the two of them from afar.

He hadn’t visited a maison in years, but the idea was beginning to sound like a good one. He might need it after this day. If his balls didn’t rot straight to blue and fall off.

“Alright, have fun, mon cœur.” Comte brushed a light kiss to the top of Niamh’s head before walking around the table to Leonardo. He leaned close, his breath caressing Leo’s neck. It reminded him of nights spent in the other man’s embrace. The way his teeth would graze his flesh, fangs teasingly scraping over his flat nipples before piercing skin, bringing that wave of erotic pleasure.

“Take good care of her, Leonardo.” Comte patted his shoulder then trailed one finger over the width of his back as he left the room. A shiver of pleasure galloped down Leonardo’s spine.

“I will.”

[littlegrrl7]

A Dance for Three

Ikemen Vampire Big Bang 2021

Pairing: Comte/Leonardo/MC

Smut with plot 18+ NSFW

Masterlist for 7 chapters 17k words

read on Ao3

Chapter 3- An Unexpected View

 It was nearing sunset when the carriage rattled into the mansion’s circular drive. Comte stepped from the house, opening the carriage door as it came to a rolling stop. Immediately, he noticed Leonardo’s absence and Niamh’s tight expression. Internally, he sighed.

 He had seen the longing looks between the two of them over the last few months; a tension building. He had hoped putting them together on a day trip might ease some of that.

 Who was he kidding? He wanted them both in his bed.

 “Ma chérie, I missed you. Tell me, how was Paris today?” He offered his hand to help her out, and she took it with a gracious nod. His lips brushed first over her silk gloved knuckles, then moved to grace her cheek, then finally found her lips. Leonardo’s scent wafted through his senses. Niamh tasted of him. Comte lingered, pressing his mouth to hers, indulging in the sensation until the carriage driver cleared his throat. With a rueful grin, Comte paid him, then swept her inside.

 “Where is Leonardo?” He handed her wrap to Sebastian, then walked with her up the grand staircase into the main hall.

 He missed the large man, his warm comfort, the roughness of his cheek, the way he would moan as Comte’s cock filled him. Their friendship was still intact, but remorse and loss flavored it bitterly. Comte desired that erased.

 “He decided to stay in Paris.” Niamh shrugged.

 “Did you have a good day with him?” Comte closed the door to their room. Turning her gently, he began to unfasten the long lacings on her bodice. Niamh took in a deep breath as the restrictive garment loosened. Comte leaned in again, his mouth on her shoulder, tongue lapping the salt of her skin. He breathed in that heady mix of sweet clove cigarillos and musk that clung to her. Hells, that brought back memories of lazy afternoons exploring every bit of the large man’s body until Leo was a quivering, passionate mess. Comte’s balls tightened at the thought. He loved Niamh, she was the sassy sweetness in his every day, but oh, he did miss that masculine element.

 “It was nice enough; it would have been better if you were there,” she sighed as he set the bodice aside and removed the corsetry. Comte’s hands cupped her breasts as he freed them, his lips caressing her neck, then nuzzled the soft skin below her ear. The sweetness of her scent was there, lilacs and fresh linens mixed with a tinge of salty arousal. He breathed in deeper. She smelled as if she had been aroused most of the day, it simmered, waiting.

 “So, you did miss me?” He slid off her skirts, leaving them to pool on the floor. The sweet, enticing scent of Leonardo on her skin, in her hair, mixing with the smell of her. It was attractive, that combination of savory masculine and delicate feminine driving him to a distracted state, almost like the ghost of him was here. He untied her chemise, slipping it from her shoulders, taking one cherry pink nipple into his mouth.

 “Yes, I…Comte!” She gasped, and he grinned against her flesh.

 “I can’t help myself, your scent is that alluring.” He lifted her from the pool of her skirts and laid her out on their bed, naked - except for her elegant silk stockings. God, he loved seeing her wearing just stockings and jewelry, all gifted from him. Niamh was a most exquisite woman. It was no wonder she had captured his heart the first time they met. Her fingers went to his belt, but he stepped back to gaze down at her. “Do you know how beautiful you are, how you drive me to madness with how much I desire you?”

 Niamh blushed. A year and she had yet to become immune to his bold proclamations. She watched as he slowly removed his clothing, making a show of it just for her. His jacket he laid folded on the chair, his tie was next, unknotted, then laid on his coat. He watched her breasts heave with every breath as he unbuttoned his shirt. His lithe muscles flexed as he pulled the shirt off. Her eyes traveled down his body, making his cock pulse against the confines of his trousers.

 Niamh licked her lips as she watched him remove his pants, finishing the show. His hand moved down to stroke himself once…twice, his manhood jutting proudly upward. She crooked her finger, beckoning him closer.

 “Did you miss me that much?” Niamh whispered as he lingered above her. His finger stroked up the silk covering her legs, then fingered the delicate lace at her thighs. Comte swept her long hair over the pillows, pressing her down into the softness of their bed.

 “I miss you every moment you are not by my side.” He traced the love bite he had left by her nipple, a mark where only his gaze would see it. While he had healed her neck, that mark remained, a symbol she was his. Comte pressed a kiss over the mark, sending a wave of heat to her loins. Niamh closed her eyes, her back arching. He flicked his hot tongue over her nipple, then sucked, sending a tingle of desire through her.

 Niamh took a deep breath, Comte’s scent of polished leather and black tea mingled with Leonardo's fading smell still clinging to her flesh. She remembered Leo’s lips on hers, that almost painful rush of heat.

 Almost hesitantly, she closed her eyes, imagining Leonardo there with them, his lips pressed to hers, his hand on her other breast, feeling the hot wetness of Comte’s mouth and the roughness of Leonardo’s hand. The two of them making love to her, it wasn’t the first time she had such fantasies.

 Comte’s body moved over hers with undeniable hunger. His lips claimed hers again, muffling her soft cry as he slid his firm cock into her, filling and stretching her as her nails dug into his shoulders. Her mouth open, gasping. She wondered what it would be like to have Leonardo in her mouth while Comte made love to her. To close her lips over his thrusting girth.

 Comte groaned as Niamh gushed hotly over his cock, gripping him like a glove. A few more thrusts and she was coming around him. He let her cries echo the room, enjoying the sweet noise of her pleasure.

 His fangs lightly traced her throat then slipped in, sending her spiraling into the erotic haze his bite induced. Niamh imagined them both drinking from her, to have two sets of lips, caressing her flesh, fangs simultaneously piercing it. To have the roughness of Leonardo’s hands stroking her at the same time as Comte's refined smoothness. She moaned as she felt Comte pump into her. Her orgasm from his bite pulled him into his own completion. Her fantasy continued as she drifted on the sensual post-coital haze.

 “We need to talk.”

 The late morning light streamed through the balcony doors onto Comte’s desk. His honey-blond hair caught the sunlight, making him appear almost angelic.

 But no, Leonardo shook his head angrily, he was the devil.

 He slammed the door so hard it bounced on its frame, leaving it open a crack. Anger boiled in his chest, an outrage not even roaming the streets of Paris all night had quelled.

 Comte looked up, startled, “Is there a problem, my friend?”

 “Why did you send Niamh into Paris with me yesterday?” Leonardo clenched his teeth as he came around the large desk. Comte stood, retreating until his back pressed to the marble front of the fireplace.

 “I thought you would enjoy her company. You’ve spent a lot of time alone lately.” His gentleman’s façade had already replaced his startled expression. “You used to do things together all the time, I know you enjoyed being with her.”

 Leonardo’s gut twisted in pain, “You know why I let her go.”

 “While I don’t agree with it, I do.” Comte straightened, trying to get a read on Leonardo’s emotions.

 “Niamh is your lover now, why would you dangle that temptation in front of me?”

 “I apologize, Leo,” Comte’s voice softened, “I thought you wished to continue your friendship with her.”

 “I-“ the large man swallowed hard, raking a hand through his ash-brown hair, “Never thought she would stay in this time, Comte. It’s been-“ He ground to a halt again, “Scusa, I should go.”

 “Leo, I see how you look at her. How she looks at you. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Comte kept his voice achingly soft.

 “When she stayed, I lost you as well,” Leonardo hissed out, his jaw clenched.

 “You always kept things casual between us; you were adamant about that point.” Comte cupped Leo’s jaw, his thumb stroking the tension from it. “Even when I wanted something more from you.”

 “I was the one that turned it down,” his voice was heavy with regret. Leonardo framed Comte in his arms against the mantle, his golden body exquisitely lithe against the white marble fireplace. “I was mistaken, I miss us.”

 “What would you like to do about that now?” Comte’s fingers slid up into the taller man’s hair, drawing him in. His tongue glided over his lower lip, wetting it. Leonardo groaned almost in pain and then crushed his lips down onto Comte’s, his hand lifted from the cool marble to stroke the warmth of his throat, loosening his tie. Deft fingers unbuttoned his shirt. Leonardo’s lips traveled along the smooth-shaven lines of his jaw to place a tender kiss behind his ear. Then lower to suck and tease the sensitive skin of his neck.

 Comte moaned, his eyes closing. Feeling the roughness of Leonardo’s cheek against his throat, the firmness of his chest. His senses became enveloped in his spicy, aromatic scent. Another button was undone, and Leo’s hand was inside his shirt, stroking his chest. The heat of his body washing over him. Lower and he felt Leo’s fangs tracing his flesh, teasing the faintest promise of sexual satiation.

 A gasp at the door had his amber eyes fly open wide.

 Niamh was drawn down the hall by a harsh bang followed by angry words; she carried an armload of fresh linens with her. Peering through the crack in Comte’s door, she was startled to see the two men, not in a heated argument but entwined in a passionate kiss.

 Jealousy battled with lust as she watched Leonardo claim her lover’s lips. Comte’s hands stroked up his broad shoulders then were in his hair in such a familiar way she knew this wasn’t anything new. At his moan, her body grew surprisingly wet and clenching. Niamh took a step back, she shouldn’t be watching this, then a step forward. Dammit, Comte was hers, how dare Leonardo put the moves on him?

 Leo’s kiss from yesterday still burned her lips…

 And she had slapped him and left.

 Niamh’s eyes riveted to the lines of the large man’s back as he moved over Comte, undressing him. Had they been lovers? Were they still? What game was Comte playing with her that he had never mentioned this? A fury started to build even as she clenched low at another hedonistic moan.

 Leonardo had Comte’s shirt open now, displaying the lithe lines of muscle. His fangs lengthened, dragging over her lover’s chest.

 She gasped.

 Amber eyes flew open, pinning into hers.

 Niamh fled, clutching the linens to her chest, the sharp sting of tears in her eyes.

 How could he? Did he know about the kiss yesterday? Would Leo have told him? Certainly, that wasn’t the response she would have expected. She stopped inside the walk-in linen closet throwing the sheets onto a shelf, then turned to slam the door.

 “Niamh,” Comte stood in the doorway, “may I speak to you a moment?”

 “I’m very busy right now, Comte.” She brushed past him. How do you even confront someone with that? She didn’t realize he was interested in men; she should have, though, considering he has a mansion full of them. A strangled sob slipped past her lips.

 “Mon cœur, please stop.” He was in front of her again, somehow. His hands gently on her arms.

 “Comte, I can’t, Sebastian is expecting me in the kitchens to serve lunch.” She turned her back on him, trying to control her rapidly accelerating breath.

     I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.  

 “I understand, after lunch, would you please come to see me?” He cupped Niamh’s jaw, turning her toward him. His lips were still pinked and full; she could see the scrape of reddened skin where Leo’s rough cheek had brushed his neck. She took a breath, and then another, squaring off her shoulders. Slowly, Niamh reached forward, buttoning his shirt.

 “Why did you send me out with Leonardo yesterday? Comte, what are you playing at? Can you give me a reason that we both have kissed him in the last day?” She knotted his tie, snugging it up deftly to his collar. “Did you plan this, my love?”

 Her lips twisted with guilt and anger. Why place her in a situation like that? Was it a test of her faithfulness? Well, she’d certainly failed, but then what was that between him and Leo?

 “Please, come talk to me after you finish serving lunch.” Comte tried to embrace her, but she twisted away. Her fingers nudged his tie uncomfortably tight against his throat.

 “I need some time, Comte.” Niamh’s hands left him, “I’ll speak to you when I’m ready.”

[littlegrrl7]

A Dance for Three

Ikemen Vampire Big Bang 2021

Pairing: Comte/Leonardo/MC

Smut with plot 18+ NSFW

Masterlist for 7 chapters 17k words

read on Ao3

Chapter 6- Desire

Leonardo took her hand to help her from the carriage. Niamh retouched her hair and make-up, and her eyes shone brightly in the lanterns strung by the entrance to the grand manor. He tied the soft black velvet mask to his face. Leo was never one for these costumed parties and was only willing to do the bare minimum to fit in. She smiled as he once again tucked her hand into his arm.

“My Lady.” Leonardo gestured her forward. He wanted to crush her to him, to secret her off into the gardens, and whisper the naughtiest of things to her until she would wrap her body around his in passionate need. But here he was, acting like a proper escort until her partner arrived.

Her lover.

His lover?

Niamh's gasp of wonder interrupted his thoughts. Couples were already on the floor dancing, the elegant room flowed with champagne fountains and ice sculptures. Beyond the dancers, wide glass doors opened to a torch-lit garden. Niamh tugged him forward.

“Leo, dance with me!”

He froze, and she paused, her smile dropping.

“Why don’t we get something for you to eat first, and perhaps when Comte arrives, he will dance with you.” He maneuvered her over to a table laden with food.

“Please?” She tugged his sleeve, looking up at him with pleading pale blue eyes. He sighed softly.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Cara mia…I never learned how.”

She flipped her fan open, hiding a small smile. “You jest, the master of everything doesn’t know how to dance?”

Leonardo frowned, then with a sly smirk, he leaned in close. The warmth of his lips caressed her ear, “There is a dance I can do, but I think you’d prefer more privacy for that.”

Oh, her blush was glorious. He kissed Niamh’s fingertips, nipping her lace gloves, then snatching a drink from a passing servant, he led her outside to the balcony.

Leonardo leaned on the railing overlooking the formal gardens. The front part was lit with a string quartet playing soft music. As the gardens stretched father out a lantern flickered here and there, enough to light the path. He handed Niamh a flute of champagne; she leaned back against the rail gazing into the room longingly.

“Who taught you to dance?” Leonardo took a small plate of tiny cakes from a passing servant and held one out to her lips. She bit into it with a grin, then he brought the other half to his mouth.

“Comte, actually, I didn’t know how to dance when I first got here. Well, not ballroom dancing.”

Leonardo wiped a bit of frosting off the side of her mouth with his thumb. Then watching her, he brought his thumb to his lips. Niamh’s eyes got darker, watching Leo’s tongue flick out over his calloused skin.

“And what kind of dancing did you do? In your time.” He leaned in close, his voice a low hum near her ear. Niamh’s eyes looked around the large wrapping porch, then she stood, setting her glass and plate on a small table.

“Come with me.” She was off in a rustle of claret satin and black lace. Grinning, Leonardo followed her to a quiet area, off to the side. They could still hear the music and soft chatter of the crowd. She took his hands.

“Cara mia, what are you doing?”

“We are going to dance.”

“But I-

“Hush, even you can do this, it’s like swaying in place while hugging.”

  Well, that didn’t sound so bad.

She placed his hands on her hips, then stepped close into his arms. Her hands went to his shoulders, and then she smiled up at him.

With those stunning blue eyes...

Niamh was smiling just for him. His cara mia.

“See, and now you step back and forth, like this.” She swayed with him, then laid a hand over his heart and rested her head against his chest.

Something swelled tight in Leonardo; for a moment, tears pricked his eyes, and he blinked them back. Her fingertips stroked the back of his neck, toying with his hair.

“Is this so bad?” Her voice was muffled into his chest.

Leonardo held Niamh just a little bit closer, “I think I like your ‘dancing,’ it is more like an embrace.”

He could feel each of her breaths as her breasts gently caressed his chest. Her hand stroking his neck was almost making him tremble. The warmth of her lilac scent infused his senses; there was no one else in this world at the moment but them. Her breath puffed against the cloth of his shirt, caressing his chest.

He wasn’t sure exactly where this night was going. Would he be dismissed once Comte arrived? Would he be the third wheel? He didn’t know what Comte had planned, only that he had requested he attend with them tonight. Leonardo tried to calm his mind and just enjoy the moment. Allowing himself to be close to Niamh the way he had wanted to be. The way Comte had inadvertently shown him was possible. To be in the moment.

“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal,” Niamh’s soft voice whispered up from his chest.

“Go on.” Leo’s hand slipped around her waist, his thumb stroking her lower back.

“How long have you known Comte?”

Leonardo had to think about it a bit. The years all tended to blend together. “I don’t know, more than a hundred years, I guess. It all gets a bit indistinct after a while, cara mia.”

“And you were…are lovers?” she stumbled a bit over the words. He stopped and placed his hand under her chin, lifting her eyes to meet his.

“Niamh, he cares for you far too much to have continued things with me after you and he became serious. He came to me and ended it before the first time he took you as a lover. You offered him something I couldn’t.”

“Being female?”

He chuckled softly, “No, your heart. Your love. He wanted that, and I always walled him out.”

“Like you did me.” She looked away again and took a step back out of his arms. Leonardo stepped forward, embracing her closely.

“I was wrong on both counts.” Leonardo brushed a kiss over her forehead. “Would you like to view the gardens?” He held out a hand for her to take.

“That sounds lovely.”

Comte stepped into the ballroom, instantly attracting the usual amount of attention. Men swarmed. Women, seeing his arm empty tonight, simpered. He gave them all a polite smile, but his amber eyes scanned the crowd for just one couple. He knew Leonardo couldn’t dance. He expected they would spend the time eating and talking. Becoming comfortable with one another again. His eyes lit on the open patio doors across the hall. Ahhh, the gardens, not a bad idea at all. With a polite smile, he slipped away from his adoring throngs, tugging the light silk mask he wore snugger over his cheek, so it didn’t block his vision. A woman played a large harp off to the side. He scanned the porch looking for Niamh’s deep red gown.

Then he spotted her, Comte released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Leonardo held her hand tenderly entwined with his as they walked along the garden paths back toward the main ballroom. They both looked at ease, smiling and relaxed. No more bitterness or hurt coated Leonardo’s features. Niamh laughed at something he said, and Comte saw how tender the look was in the large man’s eyes.

If he didn’t love her now, he soon would.

He started walking toward them, Leonardo’s head lifted first, spotting him. Comte gave him a slow sensual smile and nodded his head. Leo nodded back, then turned to Niamh. Blue eyes sparkled with excitement as she turned toward Comte.

She lifted her voluminous skirts enough to run toward him, throwing herself into his arms. He lifted her up with a twirl, kissing her, then set her gently to her feet. A few people stared at the impropriety, more smiled at her evident enthusiasm.

“Ma chérie! You act as if it’s been years instead of mere hours,” he teased, his hands caressing her waist. He kissed her again, savoring the softness of her lips.

“You know I always miss you,” she admonished, looping her arm through his, they strolled back to Leonardo. Comte didn’t miss the surprised, pleased smile that tugged at Leo’s lips when Niamh slid her other arm through his.

“Where to now?”

“I believe Niamh desired to dance, Comte, and we both know how woefully deficient I am in that.”

“Ma chérie?” Comte brushes his fingers lightly along her cheek.

“Yes, please! Oh, but Leo, do you mind?” She leaned her body into his, and another pleased smile lit his face.

“Not at all, I’ll be waiting out here on the balcony, watching.”

The three of them walked up to the stone terrace. Leonardo released her arm and leaned casually against the banister, lighting a smoke. Comte nodded to him again as he led his lover inside to join the other dancers.

Taking Niamh’s hand, he gracefully swung her into a waltz, moving around the dance floor like they were floating. His thumb lightly stroked the palm of her hand.

She positively glowed. Comte wanted to scoop her up and secret her into the gardens now with Leonardo. Another turn around the dancefloor and she was beaming up at him, his fingers tickled up her ribs, and she giggled, leaning against him as the music came to a conclusion.

“Another?” he asked, handing her a glass of water from the buffet table. She nibbled at a strawberry, her eyes going out to Leonardo on the patio.

“Just one.”

“Did you enjoy your evening with him, ma chérie?” Comte moved her out onto the dancefloor again; another couples dance. He disliked the sets that would have her passed from one partner to another. He didn't like other men touching her, even in the context of a dance. Comte’s eyes momentarily went to Leo, the man still watched them from outside, a hunger building.

“I did,” she leaned in on a turn, whispering into his ear, “but I admit I am hoping for more now that you’ve arrived.”

Comte chuckled softly, spinning her out and then back into his arms. He held her close, enjoying the lushness of her curves, the way her heartbeat had quickened.

“Do you desire us both at once, mon cœur?” He nuzzled her cheek, placing a tender kiss at the soft spot below her ear; her earring tickled coolly against his skin.

“Yes,” Niamh whispered, almost imperceptibly, but he heard. She pulled back to look into his eyes searchingly. Her blue eyes darkened in lust, “But that is also what you desire.”

“Mmm,” he purred into her ear, daring to drop a kiss on the pale temptation of her shoulder, “Are you ready to rejoin him then? Or would you continue to let his hunger grow, watching us dance?”

“That seems unusually cruel since it’s been at least a year since he’s had your touch.” Her grin was impish as she sunk into a low curtsy when the music ended. Comte pulled her snug to his side as they walked toward Leonardo.

“Do you like being watched, ma chérie?” He nuzzled her hair, his lips grazed the curve of her ear, sending heat through her with his words.

“I guess we will find out,” Niamh’s reply was coquettish as they reached Leo, and she extended her hand.

The tall man bowed forward like the most gallant of gentlemen and brushed a kiss over the back of her hand.

“It was a delight watching you dance.” His eyes went to Comte, burnished gold burning with desire.

“Perhaps we should take a walk in the gardens.” Comte murmured, his gaze on Leo just as heated. His hand clenched at his side, he wanted to reach out, to stroke Leonardo’s cheek to run his fingers through the silkiness of his hair. Comte breathed in, catching that scent of cinnamon clove sweet tobacco and the virile, male essence that was all Leo. There were still too many people here, too many eyes. He stepped forward, leading them deeper into the garden.

[littlegrrl7]

A Dance for Three

Ikemen Vampire Big Bang 2021

Pairing: Comte/Leonardo/MC

Smut with plot 18+ NSFW

Masterlist for 7 chapters 17k words

read on Ao3

Chapter 4- The Offer 

Comte set his pen down. Niamh’s hurt, angry face floated accusingly through his mind. He ran his fingers through his hair as he thought about the events that happened over the last few days. This morning, while he was out, she had moved all her belongings from their room.

His room, hells that hurt.

Requests to talk were met with stony silence, her blue eyes flashing with anger and guilt. Dammit, he forgot just how young she was sometimes, that she would hold grudges instead of talking it out.

Comte shook his head, wincing as he sipped his tepid, bitter tea. This was his fault too; he should have brought the idea up of inviting Leonardo into their intimacies rather than tossing the two of them together. In his desire, he had foolishly rushed things.

  Idiot.

He needed to fix this, and talking to both of them was the only way to do it. The issue was, neither of them was giving him more than a glare and a closed door. He’d give this a little more time to settle, for emotions to not be so raw.

The silence went on for days. Niamh did her expected chores with a mechanical stoicism that not even the dry-humored Sebastian, dared breach. She had moved her things back to her old room, ignoring Comte’s requests to talk. Once, in the hall, she and Leonardo made eye contact; that burnished gold only made her heart clench harder, and looking away, she continued down the corridor. The guilt of kissing him was too much; seeing him and her lover together still burned in her mind. Confusion warred with jealousy and lust to make a stew in her gut that left her unsettled. She was certain Comte had plotted this, right down to her seeing him with Leonardo. Niamh was angry with him and herself. How could she condemn him for the same thing she had done herself? She shouldn’t…but she also didn’t have the words to ask for what she wanted, not without feeling a burning shame. Ladies didn’t ask for such things, did they?

It wasn’t until a large box arrived, left on her bed, that she even considered breaking the silence. Niamh opened the box with trembling hands. Inside was a pile of claret silk and black bows. She pulled the ball gown from the crinkling tissue, holding it against herself to gaze into the mirror. She had forgotten that the Midsummer ball was almost here; she’d been fitted for the dress over a month ago. Niamh fingered the tiny jet beads embroidered into the bodice.

“I would understand if you withdrew the acceptance of my invitation now.” Comte leaned against the doorframe, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His shirt was rumpled, and the buttons were undone. His tie hung limply at the side, no fancy knot, no cufflinks, or chains. His hair was a dull mess, as if the life had been sucked from it.

“I wouldn’t do that to you at such a late date, Comte.” Niamh’s lashes fluttered to her cheeks. It was too much to look at him, to see the apology and longing in his amber eyes. “I know society will expect to see me on your arm and will gossip if I am absent.”

“Ma chérie,” he stepped into her room, closing the door behind him, “Please talk to me, I miss you in my life. I miss waking to you in the morning.”

Her heart clenched at the tenderness in his voice. Niamh carefully hung the dress, not turning to face him.

“Is he your lover as well?”

“We had a casual understanding for years. I ended it to be with you.” Comte moved behind her, his arms slipping around her waist. Niamh sunk against the comfort of his chest. The familiar scent of him surrounded her, black tea, and polished leather. She turned, nuzzling her face past his open collar to the bare flesh of his chest.

“Why didn’t you say something?” her voice was soft in the quiet of the room.

Comte sighed. “We’ve never discussed past lovers, ma chérie, what reason would I have to bring it up?”

“He expected me to leave, and then he’d still have the comfort of you,” she murmured into his chest. Comte stroked his hand down the silken length of her strawberry blonde hair in a moment of contemplative silence.

“Most likely, Leo cares for you deeply and didn’t want to see you hurt by the differences between our species.”

“And you?”

“I will love you for your entire life, and when you are gone, I will reminisce fondly on the gift of your affection that you granted to me. But you are here now, mon cœur, and it pains me to be apart from you.” He placed a gentle kiss on the crown of Niamh’s head.

“I kissed him in the park in Paris last week,” she admitted, her head tilted back to look up at Comte.

“I know you still hold affections for him, ma chérie. If it were any other man, I would be furiously jealous. But with him, I understand.”

“Do you love him?” Niamh laid her head back on Comte’s shoulder, unable to look at the sadness in his eyes any longer.

“I have for over a century, but he's never returned it. As I have said, for Leonardo, it was a casual comfort.” Comte tightened his arms around her, pressing another kiss to her forehead, “Do you?”

“I don’t know, Comte,” she said honestly, “I care for him, but Leo put up so many walls he made it difficult to ever get close.”

“Would you want to invite him to be with us? To see if such a thing would work out?” He studied her blue eyes intently watching uncertainty chase desire.

“I would be willing to try.”

“If nothing else,” Comte gifted Niamh with a sensual wink, “it could make for a fun evening if he wishes to remain casual.”

“I saw you together in your study,” Niamh took a deep breath while Comte went unnaturally still, “That was not casual.”

“No,” Comte agreed, “it was not.”

Leonardo knocked the model from his desk in a fit of pique then frowned as the delicate wooden structure smashed on the floor. He was of a mind to lock himself in his room for the next few decades since he obviously was no longer able to function in polite society. He shoved the books off his bed onto the floor and uncorked a sake flask from his bookshelf, drinking it straight down. Nothing had any taste anymore, not food, not blood.

But oh, he could taste Comte…

And the sweetness of her.

Leonardo threw himself onto his bed, closing his eyes. Lumière came out with a curious mew and curled up on his chest. His hand moved to stroke the cat’s midnight fur. He’d been mostly in his room for days now; he had left Comte’s study the moment he darted out after Niamh. Leo knew he had gone too far, asked for too much. It wasn’t his intent to interfere with their relationship, it just...

Hurt.

It hurt in such an unexpected way.

Leonardo had thought he was fine with being alone. After all, he had been so for numerous decades. The casual arrangement he had with Comte was enough to ease any desires he had. A night of mutual pleasure here and there, no strings attached. More than once, Comte had brought up the subject of their arrangement being something more. The man had given him thoughtful gifts. The type of things you would bequeath to a treasured lover.

Leo lit a cigarillo, taking a long draw from it. His fingers drifted through the cat’s black fur pensively.

“Maybe it’s best, just you and me, huh Lumière?”

The cat blinked slowly at him with his luminous golden eyes. He took another slow drag on his cigarillo, watching the tip glow. A knock at the door shook him from his thoughts. Leonardo ignored it. Whoever it was would leave eventually.

“Leonardo, please open the door. We need to talk.” He could hear Comte’s voice tinged with exasperation. Leo took another drag, then exhaled rings of smoke toward the ceiling.

“Leo?” The locked door rattled as Comte tried the knob —more knocking.

“Leo, I know you are in there. I’m not leaving until we speak.”

“Comte, I have no desire for conversation right now. There. We’ve spoken. Now leave me be.” He closed his eyes, continuing to stroke his purring cat. At least Lumière remained with him, for now.

He heard the glide of metal on metal as a key turned in the lock, then the low squeal as the door opened. Leonardo closed his eyes as his cat spring-boarded off his chest to dart under the bed. He heard a click as the door shut, and then leather shoes stepped carefully around the chaos of items on the floor.

Leonardo sat up, pinching off the end of the cigarillo, and stowing it in his pocket.

“What can I do for you, Comte?” He tried to affect his usual casual smile, but his jaw pulled tight, his eyes were hard. The man had immediately left him at Niamh’s gasp. It was obvious who was more important in his life.

“We didn’t finish the conversation you started in my study.” The bed sank as Comte took a seat near Leo’s hip.

“So, you are here for what? A quick shag in the afternoon? If Niamh was displeased to see us kiss, I’m certain fucking is right off the table.” He closed his eyes again, wishing the other man would give up and simply go away.

“Nothing so passionately athletic. I desire to discuss things with you.” Comte placed a hand over Leo’s, giving it a soft squeeze. “You are my oldest friend. I have no wish to lose you to misunderstandings.”

Leonardo turned his head away, looking at the sketches he had tacked to the wall. He had lived here in the mansion in relative luxury for so many years. Comte seamlessly took care of the needs and desires of all the residents, including him. Had he taken that for granted? Was it time to move on? He gnawed on his lip, remembering the decades of being homeless on the streets, miserably sleeping under bridges or in alleyways. Always alone. It wasn’t an existence he relished returning to.

“Are you in love with Niamh?” Comte’s straightforward question abruptly shook Leonardo from his morose thoughts.

“What? Why would that matter?” Would Comte throw him out? Had he overstepped so far in his impulsive actions?

“I love you,” Comte’s voice broke a little with the words, “I have for years even when you’ve brushed me aside, I was willing to settle for something one-sided to keep you close. But I craved something more, and when Niamh offered that to me, I took it.” He took in a deep breath, “I love her, there isn’t anything in this world I wouldn’t do for her.”

It almost hurt for Leonardo to look into Comte’s amber eyes. They were so full of desire. He reached out, brushing the lock of honey-blond hair that fell over one eye to the side. His rough fingertips trailed down Comte’s smooth cheek.

“What would you have me do, my friend? It’s too difficult for me to see the two of you together anymore. It’s an ache that never ceases; I want what you have. I care for you both, I want to see you happy, but I can’t stay and watch it from the shadows anymore.”

Comte cupped Leo’s jaw, drawing him close enough to exchange breath. He studied his handsome features for a long moment. The burnished gold of his eyes glowed against his dusky skin in the room's low light. Comte traced his thumb over the fullness of Leo’s lower lip then leaned in for a slow, lingering kiss. Leonardo trembled, his hands hovering at the other man’s waist, as if unsure if he could touch him. Comte sensually sucked Leo’s lips, his fangs dragging against the plush flesh, then he leaned his forehead against the taller man’s rough cheek. Warm breath caressed along Leonardo's neck; his whisper traced the curve of his ear, sending a sharp jolt to his chest.

“What if I asked you to join us?”

[littlegrrl7]

A Dance for Three

Ikemen Vampire Big Bang 2021

Pairing: Comte/Leonardo/MC

Smut with plot 18+ NSFW

Masterlist for 7 chapters 17k words

read on Ao3

Chapter 2- Temptation

 The stiff crinoline of Niamh’s skirts crinkled in the tight confines of the carriage. She crossed her legs again in a rustle of mauve taffeta and starched black lace, drawing Leonardo's attention. Comte had picked the day dress for her to wear on the outing. The neckline was a low oval that left her feeling like the tops of her breasts were on display, like an offering. The day was far too hot for a wrap, but she had brought one anyway, draping it over her shoulders for some bit of modesty. She could feel his eyes skim over her quivering flesh at every bounce of the carriage. Niamh struggled not to blush, but it was an uphill battle.

 Suddenly, the carriage pitched backward, tossing her into his lap. Apologies log-jammed in her throat as her face pressed against his broad chest.

 Niamh breathed in.

 Ahhh, the scent of him, that sweet tobacco and clove that clung to his skin. Her hands fisted in his lapels, trying to right herself.

 “Easy, cara mia, the road can be rough here. Would you prefer to sit next to me? I’ll hold you steady.” Leonardo's strong arms lifted her, seating her next to him on the poorly sprung leather bench. Leo held her close, his arm casually laid over her shoulders, drawing Niamh into his chest. She breathed in again, god how she had missed the virile scent of his skin. They had never gone beyond a single passionate kiss; Leonardo had put up too many walls. But she had missed him holding her close.

 “Thank you.” She settled her gloved hands awkwardly in her lap.

 “Is there a reason you wanted to come to town with me today, Niamh?” He lit a cigarillo and slid the small window open, flicking the ash out of it.

 “We haven’t spent much time together lately. To be honest, I’ve missed your company.” She looked up at him, her pale blue eyes so earnest. “We never did speak of what happened.”

 “Did you feel a need to? You seem content.” Leonardo lounged, long legs stretched out before him. He inhaled again, blowing the smoke out a small window.

 “I am... we are. But you didn’t expect me to remain in this time, did you?” She was still looking up at him, but he slid his eyes away, gazing out at the passing streets.

 “Comte is a good man and my oldest friend. You make each other happy, it’s enough for me to be happy for you.” She didn’t miss the small bitter twist to his lips. Niamh studied his profile a moment, from the sweep of his ash-brown hair to the tenseness of his jaw. Inevitably, his gaze returned to hers.

 Her breath hitched at the longing in his burnished gold eyes.

 “The two of you have a good thing,” Leonardo continued, taking her hand. He brushed a light kiss over her knuckles, warming the silk of her glove, “I know he will always cherish you.” Then he released her to gaze again out the window and said no more. The only sound within the carriage was his inhaling as he took the soothing smoke from his favorite vice into his lungs.

 Niamh watched Leonardo fix things from a park bench across the way. His usual crowd of admirers surrounded him. That familiar ache had never gone away, the loss of him. She closed her eyes for a moment remembering the first night she had met Leonardo. She had been in such a panic, stirred up over her predicament. Falling back in time two hundred years into a den of vampires? It had been too much.

 Then he had kissed her, surrounded her in his comforting warmth, and her plight didn’t seem so bad. Niamh remembered the feel of his broad chest pressed to hers. The safety of Leonardo's arms around her like corded steel, lifting her to him. The softness of his lips caressing her mouth, teasing her lips open. And oh, the taste of him, virile strength, she had melted against him, her body surrendering to his whims.

 But he had asked for nothing but her companionship. They had so many good memories together. But he had never let their relationship progress, even when it was obvious they both wanted more.

 Her eyes opened, and she watched as another person thrust some broken thing at him to mend in the park square. That was him, fixing the broken, always giving, never taking anything for himself.

 Not even her when she offered.

 Niamh blinked back tears at the familiar pain of the night he turned her down. Oh, Leo had been gentle enough, but he still made it clear she should return home. It was Comte who found her crying in the gardens later that evening. Comte, who gently took care of her, who soon confessed his love to her, who eventually asked her to stay.

 Niamh gazed up at the bright blue summer sky of Paris, watching the birds flit from tree to tree in the park. It had been over a year; she loved Comte, he was a sweet, attentive man.

 But she never forgot her feelings for Leonardo.

 “Cara mia,” Niamh looked up, and he stood before her haloed by the sun, his ancient golden eyes so warm. Leonardo held out his hand to her with a smile, “Let’s get you some lunch, yea? You can’t be ogling me all day on an empty stomach.”

 She swatted at him with her tiny purse. “The conceit! I wasn’t ogling you.” Niamh placed her hand in his, relishing the warm roughness of it. So different from Comte’s smooth gentleman hands.

 “Scusa,” he grinned that jackass smile of his, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm as they strolled down the street, “and what would you call it?”

 “Merely appreciating a master at his work.” She glanced sideways at his handsome profile, a grin tugging her lips.

 He patted her hand consolingly. “If that is what you would like to call it-“

 “Leonardo!”

 His grin got wider.

  Leo paused, studying her a moment as she huffed at him in mock affront. She had always been adorable. He loved getting Niamh all stirred up, seeing her fiery side lit. Unconsciously he steered her toward her favorite outdoor café, one they had been to many times. Sweet memories of the two of them flitted through his head as he held the chair out for her. Leonardo’s eyes roamed again over her figure; his fingers lightly brushed her bare shoulders as he pushed her chair to the table.

 “You look lovely today, Niamh, that dress is an attractive color on you.” His eyes weren’t on the mauve dress, but on the way the black lace framed the mounded curves of her breasts that swelled over the cusp with each breath.

 “Thank you, Comte picked it out this morning.” She picked up the menu, her eyes moving over the script.

 Leonardo busied himself with a napkin in his lap.

     Comte, what are you doing to me? Why send the woman you love out dressed like a tempting confection?    

 He breathed in. Niamh smelled of crisp linen and lilacs. After breakfast she must have bathed, eradicating the enticing scent of her morning pleasure to be replaced with the sweet innocence of her own perfume. Leonardo’s eyes skimmed the bare curve of her neck, the skin unblemished. At least Comte had healed her before sending her out into society. It wouldn’t do to have lover’s marks on display in public for all to see. His gaze wandered downward, wondering if the stiff cloth of her expensive dress hid any private marks. Visions of undressing her filled Leonardo’s thoughts. His lips covering her flesh where Comte’s had, tasting him on her skin, that heady mix of arousal and possession overtook him, and he could feel his cock stirring. It pressed uncomfortably against the confines of his pants.

 “Are you getting anything, Leonardo?” Her eyes were still on the paper menu, pink lips pressed together in thought. He remembered the pillowy softness of her lower lip as it was sucked. Leo shifted in his chair, sliding the napkin over his tenting trousers.

 “Dessert, the apple tarts here are delicious.” It wasn’t the sweetness that he desired, but it would have to do. He gave her up, a decision he would have plenty of time to regret. He might as well enjoy the day with her, pretending for a short time that Niamh could be his again if only in his mind.

 Her meal came and with it the blissful peace of not having to make conversation. Of being able to covertly watch those luscious lips accept food, watching her enjoy each mouthful. Niamh’s expressions of pleasure were so unrestrained he could only imagine if she was like this in public how much more so she would be in private.

 In his room...

 Straddling his lap while he made love to her.

 Leonardo tore his eyes from her, spooning another bite of the apple tart into his mouth. It tasted of ash. Nothing had brought pleasure since he denied himself her. He looked out into the park with its perfectly groomed pathways and rose hedges. Couples walked conversing, children played; it was an idyllic afternoon to spend with someone you cherished.

 He cleared his throat.

 “Comte tells me you are thinking of restarting your travel tour business?” Leonardo covered the rest of his dessert with his napkin, leaving it unfinished. Niamh raised one perfectly arched brow.

 “It’s a consideration, I was going to start with guided tours of Paris and see where it goes from there.” She finished her meal, taking a sip of her drink. “I’m trying to talk Comte into hiring a few maids. It’s ridiculous to expect Sebastian and me to manage the entire mansion and its residents. That should free me up to pursue my own interests.”

 “Would you be giving these tours yourself?” Leonardo paid for the meal, then taking her hand, he tucked it into the fold of his arm. They'd walk along the river, Leo decided. Somewhere it was quiet so he could enjoy her company alone for a short time.

 “Well, initially, yes, but eventually I would want to manage a staff.” Niamh looked down at the cobbled path, her dainty black boots peeking and disappearing from her voluminous skirts as they walked. They were as fashionable as everything else she wore, Comte made sure she wanted for nothing.

 “Scusa, cara mia, but there are parts of Paris that are quite unfit for a lady.”

 “Well, I wouldn’t be giving a tour of those parts, silly.” She gave him a playful swat, and his heart fluttered. Niamh’s blue eyes sparkled brighter than the June sky. “Besides, I could always ask one of the residents to come along, I am sure Napoleon or Jean wouldn’t mind escorting me.”

 Her skirts rustled seductively against his legs as she walked beside him. The scent of Niamh’s perfume cradled his senses, igniting his fantasies of being tangled with her in the throes of passion. Her breast brushed his arm, where she leaned into him, and every nerve felt inflamed. The tingling of desire chased around his body to tighten things low in his groin.

 “I would do it,” Leonardo’s voice came out edged with need. He turned to face her, pausing them under the long, secluding branches of a willow tree. His burnished gold eyes didn’t hide the affection he still held for her.

 “That is very sweet of you, Leo.” Niamh smiled again, and it held all the warmth of the summer sun. Impulsively, she stood up on her toes, brushing an affectionate kiss over his cheek. “I could always count on you.”

 Leo turned his head, capturing her lips; he shouldn’t, she wasn’t his to kiss. But she was there, and his, if only for this moment in his mind. God, she was so warm. The taste of her was even sweeter than he had remembered. Leonardo brought his hand up to tenderly cup the back of her head, his other hand pressed the small of her back, holding Niamh close.

 To his surprise, she didn’t pull away or resist. She melted against him, her mouth opening to his gentle pressure. Her hands gripped the lapels of his jacket, she teased and tasted and then moaned so softly against him. Leo explored her slowly, feeling every bit of her, sucking Niamh’s pouty lower lip, as he had dreamed of doing. He took a breath, leaning his forehead against hers.

 This was his oldest friend’s lover, he shouldn’t-

 Niamh threaded her hands through his hair, pulling him back down to her. Her mouth angling over his, greedily. Sharp teeth grazed his lip, and he let out an anguished cry before she soothed him with her tongue. Leonardo buried his hands in her strawberry blonde hair, ravaging her lips, and she returned his attentions passionately. He leaned her back against the tree, pressing his full body to hers. Niamh’s thighs opened, and he stood in the crispness of her skirts, desiring the fabric gone so he could feel the press of his flesh against hers.

 “Leonardo…” His name traveled out on a breathless gasp. How many times in his fevered late-night fantasies had he dreamed of his name on her lips as he pleasured himself? And now here she was in his arms…

     But she’s not yours…  

 An annoying voice echoed in his head, he couldn’t do this. Leonardo reluctantly pulled away from her heated embrace.

 “Apologies, Niamh, I forgot myself. Let me escort you back to the carriage to take you home.”

 In her eyes was the same disbelieving look she gave him the night he said he wouldn’t be her lover. Her face flushed as anger replaced it. She took a step away, straightened her clothing, then the stinging slap came.

 He deserved that. Leonardo turned his face from her. He let the pain of it coat his cheek and stab into his heart.

     She’s not yours, and never will be.  

 Niamh's leather shoes clacked an angry staccato against the cobblestone path as she returned the way they had come. Reluctantly he trailed after her, damn Comte to hell for ever putting him in this situation. And damn himself for not showing a modicum of restraint when entrusted with another man’s woman.

 When they reached the carriage, Leo put out a hand to help her up, which she ignored in favor of awkwardly wrestling with her skirts. She sat ramrod straight, eyes ahead as he watched her from the door. With a long sigh, he asked the driver to take her home, repeated the address, and closed the door, watching the carriage depart.

 Maybe he was a coward, but he couldn’t sit for over an hour with her in that tight, confined space. He couldn’t smell her perfume on his clothing, taste the heat of her passion, and pretend nothing had happened. This made the previous kiss they had shared pale by comparison. Leo raked a hand through his hair. He had undoubtedly botched this. He should have continued to stay in the shadows.

  Niamh stared out the carriage window as they pulled away. He wasn’t coming?

     Fine.  

     It was all just fine.  

 How could he kiss her like that? What right did he have? And dammit, why the hell did she kiss him back? It would have been easy enough to pull away, to act shocked, to laugh it off. To do anything but what she had done.

 She melted into his arms like she belonged there.

     Damn it.  

 Niamh tapped her fingers along the wood frame of the window. How was she going to tell Comte this?

     Oh, by the way, I snogged Leo today. It was every bit as delightful as I thought it would be. Tea? Baguette?  

 Perfect, just perfect. Comte was loving, attentive, romantic, he fulfilled her every need - why on earth would she ever look outside her relationship with him?

 To something that was…

 Unresolved.

 She crumpled the delicate fabric of her skirts in her hands, unconsciously turning them into a wrinkled mess.

 She wouldn’t mention it. Niamh doubted Leo would say anything. It was a mistake, an error. She was only human, after all.

 She could still feel the heat of the passion he held for her in his kiss. The way his large calloused hands had stroked over her, pressing her body firmly to his. Leonardo’s sweet tobacco scent still clung to her clothes, overloading her senses with desire for him.

     Just perfect.