| Title: Cherished Authors: Jo & Brenda Series: Claimed Pairings: Karl Urban/Orlando Bloom/Harry Sinclair Rating: NC17 Summary: Vampires and pets and sex, oh my. Yeah, it's an AU. Disclaimer: As far as we know, vampires don't exist. Cha. Author's Notes: *Brenda points to Jo* It was all her fault. I just went along with it. *Jo points back at Brenda* Her Karl had designs on my Orli. She liked the idea so we let them play. This is what happened. *mwah* *Brenda & Jo look around, then whisper* But it's really *all* Harry's fault and if he says otherwise, it's a lie! For the other 1/2 of the Quartet. *mwah*
My Lord... Shock had Orlando widening his eyes at the vampire's back. Lord? This was... "You sell your beauty short, little one, if you would expect anyone less than a Lord to claim you." The vampire never turned, never moved as he answered Orlando's unspoken question. "I am sorry," Orlando stammered, shivering suddenly from the cold. "I meant no disrespect." "And none was taken." He turned, focusing those alert, knowing eyes on Orlando. Orlando was no longer cold, yet he shivered again as heat blazed a path from scalp to toes, igniting him with a thousand needles. His thin mesh shirt felt hot, heavy across his sensitive skin. He wanted nothing more than to strip and offer himself. The vampire's smile was slow, showing a small, tantalizing glimpse of pointed teeth over full lips. "Not just yet," he said. A black eyebrow arched as he swept his hand to the door of the limousine. "Do you choose to ride with me?" Orlando understood he was being given a choice here, a chance to back out gracefully. But his choice had already been made. He'd wanted this more than anything else in the entire world, had wanted it as long as he'd known it was there to want. He would not back down, he would not falter. "Yes." He sighed the word, already imagining having that controlled, graceful body on him, in him, around him. Another soft smile. "Come then." The back of the limousine was sumptuous to the extreme. Baby-soft tan leather molded to Orlando's frame as he slid across the back seat. Chilled champagne in a silver bucket rested on top of a mini-bar. An array of foods splayed out along the low table in front of him to tantalize his senses. But all of the opulence was nothing compared to the irresistible grace of the vampire sliding in the seat across from him. Orlando barely resisted the urge to pinch himself...he knew full well it was real. Impossible, but real nevertheless. "May I ask you a question?" The vampire peered at him through lowered, impossibly long lashes. "Of course. What do you desire?" Melting...he was melting, that was the only reason his brain couldn't form a coherent thought. He just stared, imagining all of the things he did desire, imagining what those full lips and artist's hands could do to him, for him. "Little one?" "Wha...oh!" Orlando was thankful the low light hid his face. He gathered his wits, remembered his original question. "What's your name, my Lord?" "I was wondering when you'd get around to asking." Orlando shrugged. "I was --" "Distracted, perhaps?" He paused, chuckling. "It's Karl." "Karl." Orlando breathed the name like a benediction. "And you are?" "Oh!" Orlando's blush reached to the roots of black hair. "Orlando." "Lovely name. Suits you." A hand reached out across the space between them, drifted slowly across Orlando's jaw, tracing a path to his cheek. He shuddered, undone by a simple whisper touch. //Do you burn for me, Orlando?// The soft question floated across his mind, as seductive as a kiss. Drowning...now he was drowning in come-hither eyes and a siren's-call grin. The light touch trailed down his shoulder to his chest, stomach, stopping to brush over the gold ring on his belly. Orlando wasn't burning; he was blazing with a fire so hot it singed his pores, all but choking on the flames. He could only nod, his movement jerking, staccato. Karl was beside him in a blur of movement, pressing that superbly muscled body into him. Silk and mesh rubbed against each other when Karl lowered him to the cushions of the seat. Hot eyes incinerated as full lips curved into a feral grin. "Stay still." Orlando's eyes rolled in the back of his head at the first touch of Karl's lips on his flesh. Burning, melting, blazing...forget everything, promise anything...just never stop. A wet tongue circled the bare skin of his belly, dipped in the concave button to tease, then Karl's mouth closed around the ring nestled there, sucking in light movements. Just his mouth -- Christ, that mouth -- and nothing else, moved on him, and Orlando was so hard he was shaking on the inside, need twisting him up in knots so tangled he knew he'd never break free. And still that mouth, those lips, grazed over the soft skin of his abdomen, moving down, tongue tracing the band of his jeans, the sun tattoo that peeked out from the cloth. Orlando longed to run his fingers through silky burnished hair, longed to pull the vampire up to him and crush him into his embrace, his kiss. Couldn't. Couldn't do anything, obeyed the order not to move, even though it was killing him. Karl's mouth continued his upward path, gentle in contrast to the tightly coiled muscles holding him in place. Lips traced the plane of his shoulder, his collarbone, jaw again, before waiting, just a breath, a millimeter, away from Orlando's own pouting lips. //You can kiss me now.// Orlando couldn't stop the whimper welling in his throat as he raised his head that fraction of an inch and tasted a vampire's kiss for the first time. Copper and sex, corruption and clove...it was exquisite, addictive. Orlando lifted shaking hands, drew Karl's head down to him, threaded fingers through that lovely hair. And feasted on that mouth, nibbled on those lips, sucked that clever tongue, ran his own along the sharp edges of fangs. Voracious hunger unlike anything he'd ever known consumed him, left him shattered. He couldn't get enough of the taste, couldn't get enough of the feel of the body pressing him into the soft leather. More, had to have more... He whimpered again when Karl drew back. "Open your eyes." Slowly, he focused on the face above him, on the black hair falling in waves across incredible cheekbones, on the soft patch of cream-colored skin peeking through the vee of Karl's opened shirt. He raised his gaze. And lost himself all over again. "This was just a taste. You'll have to wait for the rest." A hand reached down to stroke his throat, rested at the rapidly beating pulse point. Taste...wait...oh yes, Orlando could wait. He'd waited a lifetime. What was a few more hours compared to the pleasures that awaited him? |