Notes: Its been forever since I have worked on this but I have edited it a little so there are small style changes. Of course, Kristopher and Nickolas belong to Amelia Atwater Rhodes. Be warned that this isn't a fluffy romp featuring some hot guys (the guys are hot but still), there will be disturbing violence and sexual situations. This isn't your Grandmother's AAR fanfiction, baby.
1886 Paris, France
Lucy was in league with devils; her mother would be horrified and her father shamed. Actually, they already were. They thought that she was a rich man's mistress, which, was for the most part true. Their already delicate middle class sensitivities and piety could not and would not survive the truth: that the rich man was a demon. Lucy didn't care. When she had went to Nikolas, she had thought she had wanted to die. Now she realized that she had never lived.
As she stood on a low stool, with a seamstress taking measurements for the wardrobe that Nikolas insisted she had to have, she knew her life would be changed forever. Gone was everything she had thought she knew. God, her parents, society; no longer held sway over her. The only people who mattered weren't even people. She hardly was one anymore.
When she looked into the silver gilt mirror that dominated the room, she couldn't recognize herself. The woman that looked back was haughty with tilting blue gypsy-like eyes, golden hair curly and stylishly pinned up, and was clothed in silk. The fancifully embroidered corset alone was worth more than her church going clothes. The petticoats were scandalously short; they barely covered her knees! She was completely different from that melancholy half-English girl with her frizzy hair, calico dresses, and boring looks. That sad little girl had gotten her wish. She was dead. Now a woman more wanton than Cleopatra was in her place.
The seamstress, who was measuring her waist, had a grim disapproving set to her mouth. Lucy smiled when she realized that the other woman wished she could work for rich men's wives… not their whores. Before the thought of the word whore attached to her name would have her trembling with shame, now, she reveled in the title. She was completely free from society and it's rules.
"Madame, your arms are bleeding." The seamstress said.
Lucy looked down. The blood was seeping through the bandages on her left arm. She looked to her right. It was still clean. She hadn't fully healed from the first marking and Kirstopher didn't help matters. He did so like to keep her mindful of who she belonged to, not that she needed a reminder. She admitted freely that they owned her; heart, body and soul. Everything and anything.
"Why so I am," she said with a frown. Lucy looked back into the mirror. The maid, Annette, was dusting off a silver candelabra.
"Annette! Could you fetch fresh bandages?" she said as she gazed into her reflection.
"There is no need, Annette. You are both dismissed." Nikolas said as he sauntered into the room with the easy grace she loved. Both of the woman crossed themselves as they left. He smirked as his eyes followed them out the room. Lucy started to step down but he motioned for her to stay. He walked over to her and began to twirl one of her golden curls around his pale finger. She watched him as he moved his other hand over her hip. He kissed her naked shoulder lightly.
"Close your eyes," Nikolas said in a husky voice that was pure sin. When father preached to her about devils and their temptations, Lucy knew now that he wasn't talking about the kind of demons with horns but how could she resist a voice that made chocolate seem like a weak soup?
Lucy obeyed. She felt her bandages being clean cut off. Warm blood rolled down her left arm. She was rewarded for her obedience by him using his cool tongue on her wound. He was taking his time with slow long strokes with the occasional swirl. He was so cool against her heated flesh. One of his hands was still playing with her hair. He was taking the pins out to let her hair fall in luscious curls down her back. His talented fingers were being gentle. He was careful not to pullhair.The other hand was ripping off her stockings.
She didn't hear the shreds fall to the floor. She was todistracted.Nikolas was still lapping the blood from Kristopher's mark. He had stoppedhis careful ministrations and now his feeding was now more animalistic.His hands having finished their tasks were now roaming her body; torso, legs, everywhere but where she wanted them most. She was aflame from his touch. He was a skillful devil indeed.
She was too far gone to hear him move from her arm. Sudden pain on the highplump of her right breast made her gasp. Her lover's lips on the cut made her moan with longing.
"Now, that is what I like to hear," he murmured against her soft skin. She felt rather heard him. It made shudders ripple a crossed her body. "Though your screams have a special charm as well."
He chuckled before returning to suckling her wound. His hands clutched her tohim. His nails dug into the back of her corset.He pulled away and she whimpered at the loss of contact. His clothes rustled as he moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Open your eyes," he said softly. His dark voice vibrated down her spine. She obeyed and looked into the mirror.
She almost fell.
The room was the same as always but couple it with blood lossandit was a shock.The room was black and white; black mahogany furniture with white cushions, black teak floor with polar bear skin rug, black and white rose wallpaper. He was the same; black hair and eyes; black suit, white skin. She was the only color in the room; peaches and cream skin, blue eyes, and golden hair.
"Now you see what I see," he said quietly. In a movement to swift for her eyes, he picked her up and carried her to the sofa. He laid her down on the lush cushions.
"This is how I always want you; colorful, beautiful, ready to bleed," he said before he viciously ripped her corset down the front. "And mine for the taking."
When Lucy awoke Nikolas was nowhere to be found. She was used to it and paid it no mind. Stretching out on the bed, she realized that she didn't remember when she was moved here but it was often the case. Her muscles were sore from the past night's vigorous activities but it was a delicious sort of hurt. She had to push herself to keep up with the boys. That's something she loved about the both of them; they had such enthusiasm for life.
The black coverlet felt so good against her naked skin. She had in her sleep messed up the mass of thick white pillows. Her first instinct was to tidy the bed up but she was the mistress, not the maid.
She was still stretching when Kristopher walked in. She opened her eyes when the familiar shiver that marked their presence over took her. He was just looking at her with a slight smile on his face. That was when she remembered that she was naked.
"You look good enough to eat," he said softly as he walked toward her. His walk was so different from Nikolas's. Nikolas walked as if he hadn't a care in the world while Kristopher walked like a man in control of the world.
"You did that last night," she said huskily.
He held up two fingers and said cheerfully, "Twice."
He grabbed her hands and gently pulled her out of bed and flush against him.
His white board cloth suit was scratchy to her bare flesh especially her sensitive nipples. He ran a black leather gloved hand down her backside and holding the soft globes of her ass kept her firmly against him. He rained butterfly kisses on her face. Lust was getting the better of them. His kisses became more insistent and moved toward her neck. She was no better. She thought she heard moaning and whimpering from either her or Kristopher but she was to far gone to care. She put her hands on his wrists and slowly moved them toward a more intimate spot. She couldn't help herself, the leather gloves felt heavenly on her skin. He moved his thumbs in circles and didn't stop her from pushing hands where she needed them most. His fangs descending into her neck made her grasp and clutch his broad shoulders. She loved his vampiric kiss, it was like hundred of fingers were massaging her insides. He had a hand on her hip and the other moved toward the front. She discreetly parted her legs.
The door opened when she felt Kristopher's fingers just barely on her most intimate place. She didn't give it any mind until Nikolas gently pulled them slightly apart.
"I could hear you two from the study. Quite the vocal pair. And you scared poor Annette."
Kristopher's eyes were wild and his breathing labored as he asked, "Brother, do you mind?" Lucy was in the same condition as him. The only reason she hadn't fallen over was his iron grip on her hips.
Nikolas laughed and slapped him on the back. He turned to looked at Lucy and his mirth turned to lust. He reached out and brushed some of her golden locks from her face. "While this has the painfully tempting potential for a good time...We have to stop," Nikolas said. He walked over to the open mahogany wardrobe and pulled out a frilly blue robe. He was putting it on her shoulders before she could blink. She finished putting it on herself. He was whispering to Kristopher, who frowned. He turned back to Lucy and said, "Lucy, dearest, you have another fitting today. Me and Kristopher are going to be gone for most of the day. We'll bring you back something." He walked toward her. "And now a kiss before I go." She obeyed with a light peck on the check that quickly escalated into a passionate duel of tongues and teeth.
A fake cough from Kristopher didn't halt their now roaming hands or probing tongues. He pulled Nikolas back by his collar and said amused, "And my kiss?"
His brother hit him teasingly in the stomach. "Don't be a glutton."
Lucy stared at her boys, Kristopher in white, Nikolas in black, they looked so handsome.
"Are you sure you boys can't stay just a little while longer?" She asked.
Kristopher smiled and started for her as he said, "I don't see why ever not."
Nikolas rolled his eyes and said, "Don't encourage him." He walked up to his brother, who protested loudly, and threw him over his shoulder.
Later that day in the red-light district of New Orleans, also called Storyville, the brothers were in a store called Madame Boudoir. They learned of the place from one of the girls at Lulu's House of Mirrors, a Bordello. While they told Lucy all about their adventure they left that part out. Kristopher was examining a length of silk rope when Nikolas walked up and showed him a bottle of pink goo. His brother looked at it with his eyebrows raised and asked, "What is it?"
"Its a love massage oil. We can get this and the...er...rope for Lucy for our anniversary."
"What anniversary? Also when did you become a woman?" Kristopher asked.
His brother just shook his head before he said, "Its been a month since we met Lucy."
"When she was coming home from Mass."
"Two weeks since we made her ours." They said together.
Back at the townhouse, the brothers finished their story. Lucy was beaming at them. Her smiled turned mischievous when she asked, "So you want to try out the rope?"
Lucy was holding a bedpost while Annette was pulling on her corset strings. Both girl's cheeks were red from the extrusion. Lucy kept shaking her head trying to get a stray curl from her eyes. The mirror in front of them kept Lucy abreast of the thinness of her waist. Annette's face was twisted into a grimace as the tough strings cut into her fingers as she pulled them to their limit.
"Aren't more to be done, Madame, 'Tis as far as they go." Annette said in her strong Irish brogue.
Lucy sighed as much as she could in the constricting garment. "Fine. Tie me up," she hissed out of breath. She hardly felt the maid's nimble fingers. She was already feeling faint and their were sparkles at the edges of her vision until her body readjusted. Her cheek pressed against the bedpost as she leaned closer to the post as her corset was being tied.
The maid walked over to the wardrobe and upon opening it asked, "The green one or the pink one, Madame?"
"Green," Lucy croaked as she straighten up. The corset strings were loosening and it was more comfortable to breath again. She wanted to make a good impression at the ball. So, she was taking more care over her looks than usual. Apparently the vampires had a whole circuit of balls all over the continent during the year. The boys were only in Paris for the series of circuit balls and hopefully when they went to Vienna, they would take her with.
Annette threw the elaborately embroidered gown over Lucy's head. The blonde woman stood still as the maid smoothed the gown and started to button the long row of tiny pearl buttons that followed the spine.
"Excited about the ball, Madame?"
"Oh, yes! I've never been to something like this. Nikolas has been teaching me how to do some of the popular dances..."
Annette moved Lucy toward the vanity and sat her down on the cushioned stool. She continued speaking without missing a beat. "Many important people will be there; Kendra, Jagar, and Kaleo."
The maid's hands were swift as they pinned curls into a fashionable style. She asked hesitatingly, "Do ya not care a wit that they are the...the unholy undead and that they murder people, Madame?"
Lucy looked through the mirror at Annette as if she had never seen laid eyes on her. Red hair, green eyes, pale skin combined with accent marked her as Irish for all her name and fluency in French. She had come all the way from Ireland to find work only to discover that her employers were vampires. Just like one of those English penny dreadfuls, Lucy thought. Still, she was being too bold.
"In my mind all the time they spend with me keeps them from...from doing that." She finished lamely with her eyes lowered and fiddled with her fingers in her lap. "I try not to think about it."
Annette nodded before arranging some fat golden curls. The door banged open and Kristopher walked in with a smile for Lucy and a rebuke for the maid. "Annette, spread your Irish gloom elsewhere." She scurried from the room. He walked her leave with distaste. "I don't know why he keeps her around. Seems to find her muttered prayers and crucifixes amusing...I think he's just sweet on her." He looked down on Lucy and twirled on a carefully arranged curls around his finger. "I've always had a preference for blondes." She smiled weakly in return. He frowned and asked, "What did she say to you?"
She mentally shook herself and brightened her smile. "Just flimflam. I hardly heard a word. I was thinking about the ball. Do tell me more about it!"
Kristopher was still looking at her uneasily. "I'll tell you more later or better yet Nikolas will." He cupped her chin with his hand and rubbed his thumb in a circle on her cheek. "Your looking a little pale and puckish; a drink would do you wonders."
In the back of Lucy's mind, she knew that she should fight this. But when he used his teeth to rip open his wrist all thoughts left her head. Her eyes darted up from his torn wrist to his bloody mouth. She kissed him quickly before grabbing his hand and without minding her dress brought his wrist to her lips. The smell of his red essence heated her up just as well as his kisses. Her lips moved slow until they were crimson and dripping. She opened her mouth and suckled his wound. Faintly she heard him moan as she sunk her teeth into his flesh.
The blood was a taste that she knew would always be embedded on her tongue. It was so rich and was like what the best day ever multiplied by three orgasms would taste like. It was practically indescribable.
He pushed her back and she landed with a thump on a stool. Her mind was still in a daze when he barked an order, "Annette, get your bog trotting arse in here, you good for nothing Irish bitch!
Annette walked in visibly cowed and began to mop up the blood on Lucy. Kristopher disappeared to her muddled head.
She faintly heard the maid say, "So, that's how he does it."
When Lucy's head cleared she heard the boys. Nikolas strode in the room with his usual grace and mischievous smile. He held out a pale hand. "Shall we go to the ball, Madam?"
Flashing a bright smile, Lucy took his hand gleefully.