LaCroix silently crossed the room. Nicholas stood, staring off into space, undoubtedly caught by some memory of some past regret. The boy angsted too much, LaCroix thought. He must take his mind off things; he must, somehow, distract his protégé. But, how? LaCroix nearly laughed. He knew perfectly well how! He only hoped that Nicholas was a quick learner as he reached out to caress the younger vampire's firm derriere. He squeezed the plump mounds, drawing a startled gasp from his blue-eyed boy.

With vampiric speed, LaCroix had divested Nicholas of his trousers, before Nicholas could even react. The fabric pooled around Nicholas's ankles, fully exposing his lovely backside to LaCroix. The General took a moment to appreciate what lay bared before him. Round, soft, like a delicate peach. A succulent peach. A ripe peach that was just begging to be eaten!

LaCroix dropped to his knees and plunged his fangs into the juicy flesh, ripping a startled cry from Nicholas's lungs. "LaCroix! Stop! I won't do this! We ... we can't...." Nevertheless, LaCroix could hear the submission in Nicholas's voice, could hear the ecstasy as the vampire bite worked its legendary mojo. "LaCroix ... please...." Nicholas was now saying, lust tingeing every syllable. "LaCroix ... I...." His words were cut off by a strangled cry as LaCroix plunged his fingers deep into Nick's body. Deeper and deeper, until they touched the spot which caused Nicholas's knees to buckle. "Oh, LaCroix," he said with a faltering voice. LaCroix caressed him deeply again, and Nicholas nearly crumbled. He bent forward over the leather couch and LaCroix took the opportunity to rise, though he did not remove his plundering digits.

With his free hand, LaCroix undid his own pants. Then he slipped his hand around Nicholas's waist to find his throbbing shaft. He wrapped his strong, experienced fingers around the hard, thick rod and quickly began to stroke, up and down, swirling his thumb over the tip, around the glans, and brushing his fingertips over the delicate skin of his balls. Nicholas was shivering uncontrollably; the words that poured from his mouth were a mixture of English, French, Spanish, Italian, Russian, and Latin. He was cursing like a sailor in every language he knew, but the words were like sweet nothings to LaCroix's ears. Never had he heard this much passion from Nicholas, not even on the night he'd been seduced by Janette, not even as LaCroix was bringing him across. Ah, to have waited eight hundred years for this....

LaCroix removed his fingers from inside his treasure, causing the younger vampire to wilt forward. LaCroix pressed Nicholas's pulsating staff between the leather cushions of the couch, and then grasped his own shillelagh of pleasure. He used the blood oozing from the bite marks on Nicholas's ass to coat both his shaft and the opening of Nicholas's tunnel of love. Then he pressed forward, entering Nicholas with one, long, smooth thrust. Nicholas let out a shriek that filled the vast space of the loft, echoing off the walls. LaCroix gripped firmly to his hips and, despite the pain his sudden intrusion had caused, he began to thrust hard and quick into his golden one. LaCroix knew that the pain would very soon turn to pleasure; he knew that to linger on the pain would only risk spoiling the mood. Nicholas would not understand this, he never did, but in the end, he would be grateful. Oh, yes, in the end, LaCroix knew that his boy would be grateful!

As he thrust into Nicholas, as he pressed his hips forward, sending his long, thick shaft deep, deep, deep into Nicholas's slowly accepting body, as he pumped his rod in and out, brushing over the one spot that caused Nicholas to moan and drool, LaCroix shouted again and again, "Who's your daddy? Who's. Your. Daddy!" Then, he was gratified to hear the words he'd been longing for eight centuries to hear, for eight-hundred years, for two-hundred and ninety-two thousand days, for seven-million eight-thousand hours.... The words were like honey and wine to his ears, like a poet's blood to his lips, like a sweet peach of an ass to his lust-swollen cock.... "You are," Nicholas moaned as the soft leather of the couch cushions milked the red-tinged cum from his body. "You are, Luscious."