Hey there lil anon, how's it going? Thank you for your request - this was just amazing to write ^^ I

Hey there lil anon, how's it going? Thank you for your request - this was just amazing to write ^^ I do apologise that it’s only really Christmas themed if you squint >2< I did try! I don’t write smut often so, I wanted to focus on making that part really good - I hope you’ll enjoy it~ Warning: Contains explicit content of a sexual nature and Comte’s real name (spoiler for his route). Do not read if you are under the age of 18 or if you could be uncomfortable with such content. (Minors DNI) - JJ x~~~~~~~~~~Le Comte de Saint Germain:The Christmas parties that le Comte’s friends held were extravagant to say the least: The ballroom was beautifully strung up in glistening red and gold beads, lit by hundreds of gently warm candles and the gentle music of violins twinkled in the air like stars do, ethereal and magical. MC was the talk of the party, looking like a Christmas angel in her gold and white ballgown - her husband’s signature colours - as the noble ladies of Paris fawned over her impeccable style and the noblemen all begged to dance with her. La Comtesse de Saint Germain sighed softly, smoothing out the intricate lace details on her skirts as she took a moment for herself on the balcony away from the busy party. MC heard quiet footsteps approach her and felt large, warm hands on her waist before she could turn around, “Are you tired, ma chérie?” The beautiful woman nodded slightly in response, leaning back into the Frenchman’s comforting embrace, taking in the scents of rosewood and frankincense which clung to his fine coat, “Then we shall take our leave - Come ma belle, let’s go home.”“Thank you, Comte,” MC smiled happily and took the pureblood’s hand, revelling in the comfort his hold gave her. Her face shifted the moment that she got into their carriage, the forced smile melted away in favour of a more peaceful and relaxed expression as she leant back against the plush velvet seats, “Le Duc de Paris certainly is popular man, I don’t know how he keeps up with all of his admirers!”The handsome blond man chuckled warmly, taking his wife’s hands in his own and running his thumbs over her knuckles, a gentle smile on his face, “High Society certainly is a game and that man,” Comte gazed out of the window momentarily, watching le Duc’s manor grow further into the distance as the carriage travelled away, “He knows the game well, mon ange.” The rest of the carriage ride back to the mansion was spent in comfortable silence, the couple holding each other’s hands as they watched the snow coated Parisian scenery pass them by until they arrived home. When they got there, le Comte and la Comtesse found the house quiet with most of the residents either out in the city or asleep in their rooms, well, apart from Leonardo who was sleeping soundly on the wooden floor just outside of the library. There was a glimmer of mischief in le Comte’s honey gold eyes when he pushed the door to his bedroom open and ushered MC inside, stroking her back briefly before he pulled the door shut behind them. And he smirked slyly as he grabbed a matchbox, struck a match and lit the fireplace along with a few of the scattered candles around the room - a smirk that didn’t go unnoticed by MC - “What’s got you smirking like that, Comte? Did you have something in mind for tonight?”“MC, mon amour,” the nobleman’s voice was hushed yet warm when he spoke, approaching her almost impatiently and grasping her hips in his wanting hands, “Appelez-moi Abel quand nous sommes seuls.” His smirk only grew as he watched his wife begin to blush a pretty shade of pansy pink and heard her stutter, flustered when she felt le Comte’s left hand wander away from her hip and rest on her behind, “Allez, laisse-moi t'entendre dire mon nom.” “A-Abel,” the lady spoke quietly, a pleasurable shudder running down her spine as her husband squeezed her ass firmly, swallowing to try and regain some of her composure. MC lifted her gaze to meet Abel’s magnificent, twinkling marigold eyes and momentarily held the eye contact they made before her attention found the bed, “Are we taking this to bed? Or are we just going to stand here?”The tall vampire chuckled, his tone a mixture of warmth and naughtiness, and shook his head softly, earning an inquisitive look from his expecting wife, “Non, mon canari.” Le Comte slid his attentive hands up from MCs hips until they rested upon her shoulders and turned her body to face the soft wool rug that lay in front of the fire which burned passionately, invitingly in the fireplace, “I think I’d prefer to make you sing from elsewhere tonight.” He took his wife’s hand into his own and lead her over towards the fireplace, kneeling in front of her once they reached the plush maroon rug and grinning up at her, delighting when her fingers tangled in his flaxen hair, “Do I have your permission to please you, MC?”“Yes,” she replied breathlessly, removing her hands from her husband’s hair momentarily to gesture at the heavy ballgown that she still wore, “Would you help me undress?”Le Comte grabbed la Comtesse’s hips and pulled her towards him so that the lace of her bodice could touch his yearning lips whilst his capable hands snaked around her body to pull at the lacing of her corset. He tugged at the ribbons quickly, yet carefully, grinning when it loosened just enough for MC to remove the entire dress from her body, a surprised gasp escaping the vampire’s mouth when he gazed at her perfectly naked skin, “No underwear, MC? What a naughty girl you are,” he purred. Abel’s left hand wandered across the smooth skin of her tummy and down to her warm mound, cupping it gently before one of his long, slender fingers dipped lower to enter her wet warmth. As he slowly pumped his finger inside of her, the vampire listened carefully to the soft hitches in MC’s breath and the quiet whines that escaped her, noting the way that her hands tightened in his silky hair when he inserted another finger into her and curled them slightly. “Est-ce que ça fait du bien, ma Comtesse?” The man smirked, brushing his lips against the woman’s hip, watching the way her head lolled back in pleasure, “Use your words, MC.”“Yes, goodness, yes Abel-” she moaned softly, focusing her gaze on her husband’s satisfied smirk, “I need more,” she whined. “If you insist, mon bonheur,” Comte chuckled warmly, grinning when an idea struck him and removing his fingers from MC’s sex, “Hold onto my shoulders, MC.” He waited for her to follow his command before taking her right foot - which still wore an elegant white high heeled shoe - and placed it firmly on his broad shoulder, allowing his wife a moment to adjust to comfortably stand on one leg. The new position allowed Abel access to her with his mouth, taking one long, experimental lick from her entrance up to her clit and noticing the way his trousers now seemed ever tighter when she moaned loudly. The pureblood placed one of his hands on the back of her knee to help steady her, the other grasping her raised ankle possessively, while his mouth busied itself on her sensitive bud, suckling softly but with enough pressure to have MC bucking against his face. His ministrations continued, growing in intensity as he dipped his tongue inside of her once, twice, and swirling it around several times until la Comtesse called out his name loudly, shuddering and clinging to his hair as she came, her knees suddenly weaker than they’d ever felt. Once she’d ridden out her orgasm, le Comte scooped MC up into his arms and carried her bridal style to the sofa where he cleaned her up carefully with a warm washcloth, helping her to dress into a nightgown once she was clean. The couple ended up in their bed, holding each other closely as they watched the fire, warmth flooding their hearts and cheeks despite the falling snow outside of their window. MC nuzzled her nose against the crook of Abel’s neck, relaxing as she took in his natural scent of honey and sandalwood which clung to his porcelain perfect skin. The clock struck 1am, “It’s Christmas morning, Abel.”“So it is, Mon avenir,” his voice was soft and quiet, full of affection like his eyes which gazed upon her like she herself hung the moon in the sky, “Joyeux Noel, MC.” Le Comte smiled sweetly, turning his face towards his wife to kiss her fondly on the lips once, and then again, lingering there a little longer, “Je t’aime, ma femme.” -- source link
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