Perilous Partnership (21 page)

Raymond challenged. “Is she his Consort?”

“I have no idea,” Fabienne replied honestly. “If she is, that doesn‟t help your position, and if she isn‟t, he won‟t bring her. Did you say something about going to Jean?”

“No, he brought it up with Luc,” Raymond said. “I didn‟t see any reason to question it.”

Fabienne sighed. “You can‟t go with him, Raymond. You‟d go wanting to help and support him, but having you there would throw everything out of balance with everyone else. He needs to be strong at this meeting, and if you‟re there without a reason or a role, it weakens him.”

“I can‟t
not
go with him when he‟s asked me to be there,” Raymond disagreed. “He‟s chef de la Cour. He knows the rules better than anyone. If he‟s choosing to break them, it‟s for a reason, and far be it from me to question that.”

Fabienne looked like she wanted to continue the discussion, but she let it go. “If you have to go, keep your mouth shut and stay out of the discussion unless someone asks you a question. Whatever you think, whatever happens, let Jean handle it.”

Raymond was only marginally happier about that, but at least he would be there, offering Jean his silent support. “If you really think that‟s necessary.”

“You‟ll do your own thing, I know, but one of the reasons you wanted a vampire as an admin in the first place was to give you advice in exactly this sort of situation,” Fabienne reminded him. “You don‟t have to like the inner workings of le Jeu des Cours, but you made it my job to make sure you didn‟t trample them out of ignorance.”

“And you‟ve done your job.” Raymond was not happy about the implications of it, but he could hardly fault her for doing exactly what he had hired her to do. “If anything bad comes of it, it will be on my head, not on yours.”

“If that were true, I‟d let you make your own mistakes,” Fabienne muttered.

“If anything bad comes of it, it will be on Jean‟s head and on the entire Cour.”

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Raymond sighed and nodded. “I‟ll talk to him about it before Saturday.” He had no idea what he would say, but he would find a way to raise the subject and hope for the best.

Letting himself into his office, Raymond locked the door behind him, not wanting anyone to disturb him, even his lover. He slumped into his chair and stared blindly at the map on the wall, blank now because so few wizards carried their repères.

Consort.

Raymond had no idea what that meant in terms of him personally, but he was certainly well enough versed in history to guess at the implications. To be Jean‟s Consort would be to accept a position at his side publicly, as his partner, but probably not an equal partner, at least not in the eyes of the Cour. While in this case Fabienne‟s objection to him accompanying Jean was about him not being a chef de la Cour, plain and simple, on more than one occasion, he had noticed a definite exclusion of mortals from activities that had included other vampires. The
judicium
at the end of the war when the Cour tried, and eventually executed, a rogue vampire came foremost to mind. Alain had been immediately invited to attend because he was Orlando‟s Avoué and Orlando was the vampire injured by Couthon, but none of the other wizards had been invited, even some who could have testified against the rogue. Only the intervention of monsieur Lombard had allowed Raymond and Marcel to attend.

Being Jean‟s Consort would eliminate the need to question whether he could attend this event or any other at Jean‟s side, but it would put a public title on a private relationship, and as long as he was president of l‟ANS, he had to maintain the appearance of impartiality. Raymond ran his hand through his hair in frustration and wondered again how his life had gotten so complicated.

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RAYMOND did not wait for Jean before leaving for home. He had too much on his mind and no solution in sight. He saw no resolution for the conundrum Fabienne had pointed out to him, and until he had some solution to propose, he did not want to bring it up with Jean. He would sleep on it tonight and they could talk in the morning.

To his surprise, Jean was already home when he came in the door, standing by the window and staring blindly out at l‟église de la Madeleine. Crossing the room, he closed his arms around Jean‟s waist. “What are you looking at so intensely?”

Startled, Jean turned in Raymond‟s embrace, summoning a smile for his lover. “Nothing. I was just thinking.”

“Thinking so hard you didn‟t hear the door open?” Raymond asked, surprised. Jean‟s hearing was as augmented as his physical strength.

Jean shrugged. “It‟s nothing to worry about. Are you ready for bed?”

Raymond smiled. “I was hoping I could talk you into a bath before bed.”

He slid his hands down Jean‟s back, squeezing lightly when he reached his lover‟s arse.

Jean almost refused. He had left l‟ANS early, hoping he could use the solitude to strengthen his control over the monster that lurked beneath the surface, but the tension of the upcoming meeting with Renaud, of wanting Raymond to have a clearer place in his life, had only fed the turmoil, and emotional turmoil could only lead to a repeat of his loss of control, something he was keen to avoid. It had been three days, though, and he would need to feed again soon. Even worse, Raymond knew he would need to feed again soon, and since they had become lovers, he had rarely fed from Raymond without making love to him. The more Raymond pressed him, the more likely he was to lose control again.

The hopeful look on Raymond‟s face kept him from refusing. He simply could not say no to his wizard, which was what had gotten them into this tangle in the first place. Smiling at the irony of that realization, he kissed Raymond tenderly. “A bath sounds wonderful.”

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They walked into the bathroom, shedding clothes as they went. The sight of the nearly healed bite marks on Raymond‟s torso shored up Jean‟s control, reminding him in vivid detail of the dangers of letting his beast slip its leash.

Taking a deep breath, he forced down the monster within him and adjusted the bathwater to the temperature he knew Raymond liked, slightly warmer than Jean preferred for himself. The warmer water would not hurt him, and Raymond was so often cold in the winter. “Go ahead, get in before you catch a chill,” Jean urged, hoping that by focusing on his lover, he could maintain his own control. “I‟ll be right there.”

Raymond sank into the tub, the hot water rising slowly around his hips. He waited, mostly patiently, as Jean finished undressing and set their towels over the radiator so they would be warm for later.

“Thank you,” Raymond said, reaching for Jean‟s hand as his lover climbed into the tub behind him. When Jean was settled, Raymond rested his head on his lover‟s shoulder, tipped slightly sideways in offer. Jean kissed the smooth skin but made no move to feed, even though it had been three days. Raymond told himself to let it go, but a niggling voice in the back of his mind whispered that other things had changed in the past three days as well. Forcibly silencing the doubtful musings, he focused on the present, sliding his hands down Jean‟s legs and back up again in silent encouragement.

To Raymond‟s relief, Jean picked up the washcloth almost immediately and began running it over the wizard‟s shoulders and then over his chest, spreading soap and warmth and desire. Raymond relaxed and let Jean bathe him, smiling when the rag lingered over the bite marks Jean had left three nights before.

Raymond rather hoped he could persuade Jean to leave a few more before the night was over. He might not be Jean‟s Consort, but he could at least make it clear he was part of Jean‟s life.

Jean‟s fangs pierced his lower lip as he fought the urge to sink them into the artery that pounded beneath the surface of the stubbled skin so close to his mouth. Raymond would not stop him. Every line of Raymond‟s body proclaimed his willingness, even his eagerness, to feel Jean‟s fangs again, but he held back. He had fed so fully the last time that he could afford to wait another day, maybe even two, one of the many benefits he had gleaned from their partnership. Instead, he focused on lavishing pleasure on Raymond‟s body, using the washcloth as an extension of his hand to tease his lover‟s sensitive places: the curve of his elbow, the inner face of his wrists, the backs of his knees. Little sighs escaped Raymond‟s lips with each pass of the warm cloth, bringing a smile to Jean‟s face as he tended to his lover. He could do this.

He could be the tender, gentle lover Raymond deserved rather than the beast he had become the last time he fed. He simply had to focus completely on Raymond instead of giving in to his own needs.

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Determined to hold to that plan, he ran the cloth over Raymond‟s chest, making sure to clean around the healing bite marks and then lingering over his wizard‟s nipples, the nap of the cloth providing an extra layer of stimulation.

Beneath the surface of the water, Jean could see Raymond‟s cock beginning to fill. Hiding his smile against his lover‟s neck, he closed his fingers around one sensitive point, rubbing over it with the cloth until Raymond arched into his touch. Delighted by the reaction, he repeated it on the other side until Raymond was writhing against him, his arse rubbing repeatedly over Jean‟s cock. He ached to tip Raymond forward, brace his hands on the edge of the tub, and sink into his lover‟s tight heat, but he had promised himself he would act like a civilized man. He refused to break that promise the first time he was tempted.

Instead, he shifted sideways so Raymond was leaning against his leg and side rather than directly against his cock. The wizard murmured in protest, but Jean soothed him with a kiss and the swipe of the soapy cloth over his balls. “I can reach you better this way.”

Raymond‟s eyes opened, whatever he might have said dying on his lips when Jean‟s hand moved deeper between his legs, cradling his sac and then rubbing behind it, over his perineum and into his crevice. “Please,” he gasped.

“Please what?” Jean swiped the cloth directly over Raymond‟s entrance.

The wizard‟s reply came out as a strangled shout, so Jean did it again.

Not able to catch his breath, Raymond grabbed the washcloth, pulling it out of Jean‟s grip so his fingers were in direct contact with Raymond‟s skin.

“That.”

Jean smiled and kissed Raymond softly, pulling back when his lover would have increased the depth and pressure of the kiss. He could not indulge that way with his control still so shaky. Not wanting to leave Raymond hurting, though, he circled the puckered entrance more deliberately, teasing the muscle into relaxing and allowing him ingress. It only took a gratifyingly few strokes before he could slip the tip inside and then the full length of his digit.

Raymond‟s eyes fluttered shut, sending a curl of need through Jean‟s stomach. He wanted to stay right there forever, Raymond pliant in his arms, body open for whatever Jean wanted, the rest of the world held far at bay. In this moment, titles did not matter. The chef de la Cour, the president of l‟ANS

did not exist. They were only Raymond and Jean, lovers, partners, perhaps soul mates.

“Can you take a second finger?” Jean asked, silently cursing the empty tube of waterproof lube on the edge of the tub. They had more, he was sure, but not within easy reach, and Jean really wanted to bring Raymond to climax now so he would sleep when they moved to bed.

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Raymond nodded, sliding down in the tub so he could spread his legs wider, giving Jean greater access to his arse.

Tweaking at Raymond‟s nipples lightly to offset any burn from the stretch, Jean pulled his hand back and added a second finger, aiming for Raymond‟s prostate this time. He rubbed over the sensitive bump, smiling at the hoarse cry that wrung from Raymond‟s throat. Deciding he liked the sound, he did it again and again until Raymond was thrashing against him and the water was in danger of splashing over the edge of the tub. “Don‟t hold back,” Jean whispered, blowing lightly in Raymond‟s ear.

“Bite me,” Raymond begged, but Jean shook his head.

“Not tonight.”

Raymond groaned in protest, but before he could say more, Jean‟s hand closed around his cock, sliding up and down the hard length, and that and the constant stimulation to his prostate was too much. His head fell back against the edge of the tub as his hips stuttered in release.

Jean‟s hands kept pace, continuing their stroking and probing to extend Raymond‟s climax as long as possible. When Raymond finally lay limp in his arms, Jean pressed a tender kiss to his lover‟s temple. “Don‟t move.”

Raymond chuckled, not sure he could have moved even if he had wanted to. He watched in post-orgasmic stupor as Jean rose from the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist, bending to let the water out of the tub. He almost protested when his lover scooped him up into his arms, but it felt too good to be held. Jean dried him quickly, the towel warm against his skin, and then carried him into the bedroom and into bed.

Burrowing under the covers, Raymond waited for Jean to join him so they could finish what they started in the tub. It took longer than he expected, the vampire taking the time to hang up the wet towels rather than simply dropping them to the floor the way he usually did when bathing led to lovemaking.