ARCHIVIST'S NOTE: This story contains material of an adult nature. From KerrRaven@aol.com Fri Sep 6 20:37:38 1996 Passions of the Heart by Diane C. Shea 1996 Nat/LaCroix Explicit This is a Nat/LaCroix story started during my Valentine days. Although now a proclaimed Seducer (that little known Janette/LaCroix faction), I've found that occasional Valentinism is hard to repress. This probably best fits in sometime after "Francesca". These characters aren't mine, but they do lend themselves to these situations so well that I just couldn't resist using them for a little while. Forgive me JP. Thanks to my very knowledgeable beta reader Cousin Lisa P. who wrote the story that inspired me to finally finish this thing. :-) Comments, criticisms, and even praise if you are so moved, can be sent to KerrRaven@aol.com **** Three heavy plastic bags of groceries in tow, Dr. Lambert unlocked the door to her apartment and nudged it open with her knee. Once inside, she hurried to put the bags down, too caught up in the plastic handles to worry about closing the door. After she untangled herself from the bags, she looked up to find Sidney sitting on the coffee table, nuzzling Joan of Arc's cross. After an in-depth discussion with Nick on the subject of crosses, and the vampiric aversion to such objects, her interest in the roughly constructed gift of the martyred saint had been rekindled. She knew Nick cherished the object, even though it caused him pain. She loved him for that. For his faith. Despite all he had seen, and done, he still possessed it. The cross that Joan had given him was one of the foremost symbols of that lingering faith. He had offered to let her keep it for a while, knowing that she could enjoy it more, and that it would be in good hands. Nat hadn't factored in the problem of bad paws. "Sidney, no! Nick didn't let me borrow that just so you could destroy it." She ran across the short space and gingerly extracted it from beneath Sidney's paw. She inspected the cross carefully, afraid the cat might have taken out his frustrations on the artifact by leaving tooth marks. It was holy enough as it was, it didn't need Sid's ministrations. Satisfied that no obvious damage had been done, Natalie moved the cross to a slightly safer shelf. She proceeded to close the door and round up the bags for transport to the kitchen. She looked up after gathering the handles together, and saw that a man was standing near her fireplace. Terror and confusion shocked through her like electricity. When she recognized who this man was, she added anger to the list of reactions. LaCroix. The height, the hair, the all-black attire. It was definitely him. She was torn between screaming in fear or screaming out an accusatory "How dare you come in here!" Then she looked to the cross on the shelf, and decided that actions were far more effective than yelling. Within a heartbeat she had the cross clutched in her hands, her only defense against Nick's evil master. LaCroix had not moved from his position by the mantle. He looked calmly at the spectacle of the brave doctor, defending herself against the demons of the world, protected by the one true god. He found it almost too funny to keep from laughing, which would have upset the woman more. He allowed himself only a mirthful smile. Natalie was not pleased that her uninvited guest had not reacted to her hint to leave. She gathered her courage and stepped closer to LaCroix, the cross between them. She thought she registered the slightest flinch of discomfort from the vampire. LaCroix decided it was time to explain his presence, before the cross really did become a pain. "Doctor Lambert, hasn't it occurred to you that I could have killed you in the time it took to notice me? That is not why I am here." Nat felt tired, angry, and worst of all, helpless. She was in no mood for that kind of crap. "Oh, well, since we're being civilized today, why don't you sit down?" she said in a parody of invitation, her voice rising and threatening to turn hysterical. He crossed slowly over to the beige sofa near the center of the room, trying to remain unthreatening as he took a seat. The look in his eyes was simply too predatory for her liking. She turned her back on him in disgust, the cross still held in her hand. "If you're not here to kill me, which I can hardly believe, then what are you here for?" Nat asked with exasperated skepticism. LaCroix sighed and glanced briefly away, as if actually hurt by her distrustful vehemence. When his eyes fell on her again she was surprised by how human he seemed. When next he spoke, Nat felt the most unsettling desire to trust him. "I feared my attempt at a truce would not be taken the right way. You must understand Doctor, my people are a rather passionate lot. When we feel something we must act on that feeling. There are consequences if we do not. It has been your luck to see me at my most..." he searched for a word that would suit the circumstances, "obsessive, through Nick's accounts and our previous encounters. A vampire's emotions are very strong, very dangerous to those such as yourself. What you may not have taken into account is the fact that you are still alive." This sounded a great deal like a threat, and worked to shake Nat out of her trusting haze. "So, will you spend the rest of the night trying to blackmail me into doing something for you, perhaps in some pathetic attempt to hurt Nick, relying on your fangs to quickly break my resolve? Or are you just going to screw the talk and try to hypno me into it? Hey, with any luck you might succeed!" She glared at him as he lounged on her sofa. "But right now I have a cat to feed, and groceries to put in the fridge, and in my little mundane mortal world these two things cannot be ignored," she finished with breathless annoyance. After placing the cross back on the shelf, she headed towards the kitchen. LaCroix was silent for a moment, trying to get over his amazement. She was incredible. She *was* scared, he could hear that from the rate of her heart, but her mind was able to inject practicality into the matter. "You know," LaCroix spoke as Nat stalked past him, plastic bags rustling, "you've made this hard on me. Fear. Lust. Hatred. I can deal with those, but it's hard to woo sarcasm!" "Oh don't tell me you've come here for romance, LaCroix." She looked around. "Sidney! Come on out fuzzhead. I got that expensive Sheba brand you adore. You'd better come out and eat it while you can, before your mistress turns into a late night vampire snack." LaCroix smiled slightly at this. She knew so well what could happen to her in this situation. She knew there was little she could do about it, and she was trying to give him whatever guilt he would take before she went. Of course, he was not Nick, and guilt was not something he subscribed to. "Sid! Where are you?" Nat brushed a strand of hair away from her face and looked carefully around the area she'd last seen the cat. "LaCroix, if you've caused my cat to have a heart attack I *will* break a few chair legs and do my damnedest to stake you to a wall!" LaCroix refrained from chuckling over that. He recalled Nicholas had a very similar reaction when that ugly hound of his had been threatened. It was best not to anger a pet owner. "I don't think that will be necessary," he informed her. "The 'fuzzhead', as you call it, is over there, watching." Natalie looked to the place he had gestured toward. She could dimly see the shape of a cat muzzle and the gleam of frightened eyes from under the chair. "I envy you Sid. You get to run under the furniture, but I have to meet the guests." She turned back to the task of storing the food away. LaCroix wouldn't go unless he wanted to, and she was stuck with awaiting whatever inevitable torment he might cause her. //Perhaps if I'm boring enough, he'll leave,// Nat thought uselessly, as she stacked some already thawing boxes in the freezer. "Do you need any help?" LaCroix called from the living room. "You'd actually help me put groceries away?" Nat stopped what she was doing and thought about how insane the night was turning out. A rueful smile crept over her lips and her next words were laced with sarcasm. "Careful, I might just have to marry you for that." He was next to her by the counter in an instant. She tried not to jump back, but her surprise was evident. To test his offer she handed him a head of lettuce with the directions, "Bottom of the fridge, in the crisper." He took it from her gently and opened the refrigerator door. "Here?" he asked unsure. "Well of course, silly. Where else would a crisper be? And why does this make me think of shopping with Nick at the supermarket? I tell him to go find the milk and he takes forever. Like milk isn't the easiest thing to find or something, but he has to turn it into an expedition." She turned her attention back to the matter at hand. "Oh forget it. It'll go much faster if I do it myself." She brushed past him to put the ice cream in the freezer before it melted. The lettuce would have to wait until she found a vampire who knew something more about refrigerators than just how many bottles of "wine" could fit on the top shelf. LaCroix stepped back a bit to let her get by, but before she could close the door, and start on a new item, she felt his hand on her neck. The cold coming from the freezer only added to the chill she felt wash over her inwardly. Nat was forced to remember just who it was who was in her home. Tales that Nick had shared with her of his past came unbidden, and she couldn't help but recall the many deaths he had attributed to LaCroix. It was an unashamed and unrepentant killer who stood behind her, slowly massaging her neck like a concerned friend, or understanding lover. Nat had no idea what to do, so she chose to do nothing. She didn't stop him, nor encourage him. Her eyes betrayed her discomfort at the situation as they darted back and forth beneath partly lowered lids. LaCroix felt the tenseness of Natalie's whole being. He knew exactly what she was feeling. He had caused it to occur in so many others, including Nicholas. An uncomfortable warring of fear, loathing, and desire. It was the simplest of cruelties, and one of the most enjoyable. It was also not his goal, but old habits were hard to break. He had not lied to her in the Azure. He had not needed to. She was exquisite. Her personality was so rare in a woman, and he loved her strength. That same strength would no doubt clash with his own dominant attitude, but the world would be bland without debate. He shut the freezer door and slowly guided Natalie away from the kitchen. It was a delicate operation to keep her from turning on him in accusation. He didn't want to have to force her. That would not do at all. "I want to do for you what *he* will not," LaCroix spoke in velvet tones. Natalie tensed at his words, feeling more than a little awkward. She wondered just what her role in this would be. She was becoming a little turned on despite her previous feelings toward him. //A little physical contact and you just fall apart, don't you Miss Lambert?// Nat chided herself. She had never before appreciated LaCroix in this way. Previously, had she felt any sexual desire for him it would have turned bitter, since all she really wanted was Nick. Now, she was beginning to see some unique qualities in LaCroix that Nick lacked. Complete confidence was one. Total control being another. Plus, he was compelling to look at, she finally admitted, and her anticipation was mounting. What would those lips feel like on her skin? But still, there was a history of hatred between them, and she could not dislodge it so easily from her mind. "I love Nick." She spoke it like a challenge. "I know," his words were without malice. "And you have never understood that I love Nicholas also." "How can you, when you hurt him so much?" She faced away from him still, her eyes fixed on a picture across the room. LaCroix stroked her hair but responded with unsympathetic logic. "The idea that love is kind is a very recent concept, another product of this upstart twentieth century. Before, love meant doing what was best for someone, regardless of whether it hurt them or not. Pain is something you will get over." "Is that so!?" Nat turned to face him, nearly shouting. "Have you gotten over your own pain, LaCroix? Did you ever forgive Nick for doing the right thing all those years ago?" She asked the question without thinking about all she had revealed with its utterance. She found she didn't care if he knew. LaCroix was a little surprised to hear this from her, but then realized he should have expected it. "It seems you know more about me than I do about you. That's an unpleasant position for a two thousand year old immortal to be in." "Two thousand? Aren't you rounding things up a bit? You've got at least a mortal lifetime to go before you reach that goal. And you didn't answer my question," Nat accused. "And I don't think I will. There is something to be said for being the one with the fangs." He smiled slightly, a blend of cruelty and good humor. Nat frowned. She hated it when people avoided questions. Even worse, when they flat out refused to answer. "I did not come here to discuss Nicholas or myself," LaCroix struggled to keep the sharpness out of his voice. His next words were balanced perfectly between emotion and obligation. "I came here for you." "For me?" Nat didn't want to look him in the eyes. "Why does that worry me for some reason?" He answered her half serious question with an equally half serious answer. "Because you are so unused to getting the attention you deserve." "And why have you decided this is Satisfy Nat Day?" she asked suspiciously. "The reason does not matter," LaCroix stated a little forcefully. "You simply have too little self-confidence." "Oh please. You sound like a psychiatrist. I hope you don't expect payment for this session." "My dear Natalie, it would be more than you could afford." He looked into her eyes intently, his seriousness marred only by the hint of a smile on his lips. Nat studied that small bit of levity on the otherwise chiseled features. Again she felt a strange sensation of wanting to like the man that was behind the killer. In some odd way she felt she might understand the way LaCroix thought better than she could Nick. But she had only known him for a short time, so that was probably an illusion. Still, there was that damn feeling. Just as she was beginning to recognize her feelings, LaCroix disappeared from her sight. She gasped when she felt his hand on her right shoulder, the fingers of his other hand touched the pulse on the left side of her neck. He brushed her hair aside and she froze. A fleeting wish that she could have the cross beside her ran through her mind. When she felt the tip of his tongue caressing the back of her ear, she simultaneously shivered and relaxed. His hand was gentle as it slid from her right shoulder, down her arm, and to her waist. LaCroix indulged in the sound of her heartbeat, let himself imagine the taste of her, but never lost himself in the bloodlust. Nat let him do as he pleased. On an impulse, perhaps generated from some irrational central processing unit of her sex drive, she reached behind her with her left hand and brought his other arm around to encircle her body. That done, she placed her hands over his, and continued to enjoy the sensations. LaCroix was quite pleased at her initiative. Things were ready to progress. He undid the top buttons of her blouse as he sucked delicately on her ear, an action made all the more simple through experience. Natalie, for her part, undid the bottom buttons, and in a moment the blouse was open. LaCroix slid the garment over her shoulders and down her arms. Once free, he draped it across the back of a chair to his right, then held Natalie close to him once again. His hands brushed over the silken material of her bra, and he closed his eyes momentarily to enjoy a heightened sense of touch. Nat caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror near the door. She saw herself enveloped by a near stranger, one so sensual he was impossible to turn down. She felt an overwhelming rush of emotions, guilt being one of the chief culprits. She thought of Nick. She was reminded that she'd had her own vampire for a long time. She'd had what should have been a woman's typical fantasy of passionate love and danger, pleasure beyond compare. But that just didn't happen with Nick. Nick had his moments, but unfortunately, that's all they were, moments. And sometimes, when she was just as horny as the rest of the world, Nick couldn't do a darn thing about it. But she did love Nick. She couldn't deny that. No matter how hard she tried. She hoped LaCroix understood that. "I can't forgive you," she said simply. "I don't need you to," he replied just as calmly. Since it seemed that the moral issues were out of the way, she slowly unzipped her black skirt and worked it down her legs, gracefully stepping out of it when it reached the floor. She took the time to drape it across a chair before looking at him. He wasn't the only one who knew how to be sensuous, and she decided that it wouldn't hurt to look unhurried. She couldn't help but wonder if she was impressing him at all. Nat didn't worry about it too much, figuring that in nearly two thousand years he had probably seen and taken some of the more beautiful women of the world. Instead of feeling daunted, it helped her ego to know he might be including her with these others. Before she could begin to undo the catch on her bra he was in front of her, in a blur of motion that made her dizzy. "Impatient are you?" she asked cautiously. It was rather fun to tease one such as him, Nat discovered. It was a little like courting death, which she supposed she was. There was a small click and a flash of metal before her eyes. She barely registered the switch blade in his hand before he put it to use along her thighs, deftly cutting the silk and lace of her underwear at her hips. Her heart skipped a beat, which she was sure he picked up on, before she realized that she hadn't been cut in any way. As long as her Victoria's Secrets were the only things sacrificed to the knife. "There are still a few good uses for a classic such as this," LaCroi=x explained, as he carefully brought the blade between her breasts and severed the silk bra in half. She had seen enough women torn apart by weapons like that, yet Nat knew she was safe from that fate with him. It was not in that way that he would kill her. She was amazed by the blend of Old World and New that she saw within him. At once he reminded her of a modern rapist and a seventeenth century gentleman. As the mutilated undergarments fell to the floor, Natalie stood naked before him. Together they made a classic image of an ivory skinned maiden and her darkly clad lover. She looked into his eyes. They were a safe, calm blue. A blue that belied a malevolent heart. LaCroix was slightly moved by the sight of this woman. Her amazingly pleasant curves had more than a subtle effect on his jaded heart. He would have loved to have taken her then. Taken her and kept her for an eternity. But he could not make that choice for her. And that was exactly why he wouldn't allow himself the pleasure of her blood, or the feel of her hot body embracing him intimately. He knew the limit of his control. Nat, on the other hand, did not. As nicely as his garments suited his figure, she would have rather had them off. She wanted the fun of stroking some sensitive vampire flesh. "And are you not going to submit to me in turn?" Nat asked coyly. LaCroix was pleased to see her so receptive to the idea, but was still forced to decline. "Natalie, you should only trust a chained lion so far. There may be a weak link in an otherwise iron restraint," LaCroix rationalized. "Oh, you sound so much like Nick. Taking all the spontaneity out of the moment," Nat said, half joking. "Really?" LaCroix asked with interest. "I would love to have heard words similar to mine coming from my Nicholas. We are more alike than he wants to admit. As far as the ultimate penetration," he continued, and Nat nearly shivered at the words, "it's overrated. I can give you twice the pleasure with half the danger. I know myself well enough to realize I couldn't stop the need to kill at that point. "I only hope that you'll finish what you start, unlike your Nicholas," Nat lightly accused. "Rest assured, my dear Doctor," LaCroix's voice purred dangerously, "I always finish what I start. And now, I think it's time we began." Without warning he swept Nat into his arms and carried her over to the sofa. She was not surprised by his strength. "Aren't I a bit heavy?" she asked, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it anyway. "We are a little more hearty than you give us credit for, Doctor. To me, you are nearly weightless." "Weightless eh? You really do know how to win a girl's heart." She was surprised when her back came to rest on the back of the sofa instead of the cushions. She had certainly never done it on the back of a sofa. She had no idea that vampires could be kinky. Without warning, visions of LaCroix and herself, in a public phone booth on a cold winter night, sprang to mind. She struggled to keep from giggling. Nick was never kinky, at least not with her. She began to wonder if Nick was really much like his master in that way, and only suppressing those urges along with his other primal feelings. Unfortunately, this reminded her that LaCroix did not suppress anything if he didn't feel like it. Her life was literally in his hands, and although he seemed to be willing to restrain his vampiric violence, she could do nothing to stop him from destroying her if he chose. In some ways this thought was liberating. Whatever happened would not be her fault. She could refuse him or encourage him, and either way he would do as he pleased. He supported her body with strong arms while she was balanced on the narrow space. It forced her to trust him not to let her fall as he leaned over to kiss the place between her breasts. For a moment Nat had a flashback to gymnastics class long ago when she used to practice on the beam. Her teacher had done something very similar, but she had never been naked, and he had never caressed her thighs. She brought her legs up, knees bent, toes curling over the edge of the furniture, and placed her hands on LaCroix's shoulders. She slowly brought one hand up, trailed it along the edge of his collar, and then let it lightly brush against the back of his neck. The touch turned braver as she used her thumb and middle finger to trace along the line of the trapezius towards the base of his skull, her fingers grazing over the short hairs. It surprised her a little when LaCroix didn't pull away as Nick often did. He wasn't exactly paying attention to what she was doing. That suited her fine. She arched involuntarily as his mouth encountered her nipple. Nat closed her eyes and lost herself in the suckling sensation. Running her fingers through his close-cropped hair, she moaned in pure passion. LaCroix glanced up at her briefly, pleased that she was enjoying herself. He moved to the other nipple and sucked it to its peak of rigidity. Now that she was receptive to his style it didn't take long to arouse her to an intimate wetness. She felt his hand go between her legs, and as his finger dipped gently into her moist being, she was struck by how strange the whole situation had become. LaCroix was a master vampire. Nearly two thousand years of power behind every light caress. He was what Nick fought against, what she had to fight against to win Nick over. And now he was pleasuring her, and asking nothing in return. Nat could only imagine what the catch would be. But at that moment she could not have cared less. Her reason was swiftly giving way to her lust. A lust that had not been satisfied in too long a time. If LaCroix could give her what Nick wouldn't... so be it. The feeling of being stroked from within sent all her body to tingling, and LaCroix added another finger to the task. His thumb worked over her clitoris as he licked along her collarbone, and she was soon moving smoothly underneath him. He held onto her tightly, not letting up. His tongue traced back along her clavicle to the hollow of her throat where he felt the vibrations of her deepest sounds of desire. Nat felt the subtle pulsing within her growing more intense and she bared her teeth in anticipation. She could feel everything around her; the sofa's soft but unyielding upholstery, the gentle breeze produced by the ceiling fan, and most important, the triple places of luscious contact with LaCroix. It was almost too much as she tensed up in ecstasy, digging her nails into his shoulder and neck. She was on the edge, and suddenly... there was nothing. He had retreated from within her, and the only sensation she felt was the building of her soon to be wasted orgasm if he didn't continue. She looked at him desperately, with the beginnings of deep hatred if he denied her release. LaCroix smiled, amused by her ferocious need. He slowly gathered her in his arms, lifted her off the back of the sofa, and gently deposited her on the cushions. She looked mad enough to bite, and while the idea of role reversal intrigued him to some extent, he thought better of it. Instead he knelt down in front of her, spread her legs wide, and leaned into her throbbing mound. She watched him in terrified rapture as his ice-blue eyes yellowed, and his fangs slid out, realizing that this was what she had wanted from Nick. She was primed to explode when his tongue lightly touched the bottom of her slit. When it traced upwards between her curving lips she felt herself falling into a decadent void, only to be brought back by an eruption of nerve endings as LaCroix used the side of a very sharp canine tooth to carefully brush her clitoris. It was the idea of who was doing it, and how, as much as the feeling of it being done, that brought her to an unparalleled climax. She shuddered uncontrollably, and LaCroix pinned her down so her jarring wouldn't cause him to hurt her while he finished taking her to new levels of pleasure. Shutting her eyes, she writhed exquisitely under his weight, and growled as she released her feelings of frustration. She felt she was finally getting even with Nick for all those lapses into his old nature. What better way to repay him for all the times he'd groaned and balked at taking one of her potential cures than to have a sexual fling with his master and live? That would teach him that beautiful words and flowers weren't everything to a woman. She was smiling as the convulsions began to subside and she could catch her breath. She opened her eyes to find LaCroix gone. It was a shock. She looked frantically around the room and found him seated at her dinette. He looked utterly calm, as though he'd had nothing to do with her still tingling nerves. Without saying a word she crossed the room and disappeared into the bedroom. LaCroix waited patiently, using the time to study a photo of Nick on the wall. He wondered how long it would take before Nicholas found out about their little escapade. It would be wonderfully entertaining to watch his reaction. When Nat reappeared she wore a silky medium length robe, belted at the waist. "You really didn't hurt me," she said with some wonder. LaCroix did not seem surprised by the statement. "As I said I wouldn't. Do you feel this is a let down in some way?" his smile turned blatantly wicked. "Is that darker part of yourself surfacing to seek its own pleasure?" "My darker part has been rejoicing all night!" Nat felt that had to be clarified. She wasn't always like that. "It's not for myself that I mention it, but for you." "Pour moi. Pourquoi?" he asked as he leaned back in the chair. "Uh, why, because as strange as this may sound, I wish you could have felt the same ecstasy that I did," her expression turned sultry in remembrance, "and I know that can only be achieved through the taking of blood." "I rather agree," LaCroix spoke truthfully, "but tonight was not for my pleasure. There will be other encounters between us. In time I will be repaid for tonight." He stood, his next words chosen with care, "I know you now, enough to feel your desires were not satisfied fully. Consider this carefully. You can become my child. You would be a sister to Nick, a lover through endless nights. I would do this for the betterment of us all, Natalie. You offer the stability that our family has always needed. Understand there have been very few I've ever considered making part of my life. I see potential in you that I do not want wasted by death." Nat turned away from him, her mind contemplating things at once enticing, and painful. LaCroix's voice became a seductive whisper, "Someday, you will come to me, wanting more than just my touch." Before she could think he stood behind her again. This time his teeth grazed her neck. He was slowly biting, griping her throat in his jaws. She gasped at his suddenness, fearing her own death, then realized the twin pinpricks of pain were absent from the bite. His fangs were still retracted. She could feel her pulse racing under the pressure. He lingered like that for a moment, then let go and raised his mouth to her ear. "I do not have eternity to await your decision, Doctor. Your beauty and life will fade all too quickly before my eyes. One word," he brushed her cheek with his lips, "and you are mine. You must choose." "I'll...I'll let you know." Her voice quavered as she spoke. He turned her head so their gazes met, and kissed her mouth with restrained intensity. The feeling of strangeness she'd felt before climaxed in this act. She kept herself from both enjoying it too much, or pulling away, and soon it was over. She knew she could have it again if that was her wish, but she needed time to think. Sidney meowed from somewhere nearby. "I will leave you to your thoughts," LaCroix looked past Nat to where Sid was sitting on the counter, meowing his heart out, "and your cat." Nat looked around to see that Sidney had overcome his fear enough to be pissed at the lack of attention. When she looked back LaCroix was gone. Nat walked over to the cat and received an affectionate head- butt from the furry creature. "Well Sidney, whether cat, vampire, or mortal, you men are all alike. Love em, and leave em wanting more." She gave Sid a distracted pat. "We'll see, LaCroix. We shall just see." **fin**