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Perhaps it was the adrenaline that coursed through her as it had every time she had sighted the man over the past week, or perhaps it was the unavoidable humour in the reversal of their situations. But whatever it was that inspired this action, Clara’s mouth twisted in a playful smile and knew she should enjoy surprising Edward as he had surprised her here once before.
Clara grappled with a brief bout of indecision about the wisdom of surprising him, but quickly decided her resolve in her decision was unbreakable, and could even do with a bit of testing. My mind is set, she said. I must not pursue Edward any further, so I shall not. But surely there is no harm in having him as a friend if nothing more.
As she saw Edward casually walking further into the room, she slid through the narrow space between two bookshelves to come up behind him. Her full bosom made this manoeuver a tight squeeze, but it was successful—he rounded the corner into the secluded corner out of sight of the door, and now she was standing behind him, suppressing a giggle as her cheeks flushed with the thrill.
He still doesn’t see me! Clara thought with girlish glee, and though she stood just to one side of him, still Edward perused the shelves unaware. At last, she could take the anticipation no longer.
“Surely you’ve read that one already?” Clara asked in as nonchalant a voice as she could summon.
Her heart leapt with joy as Edward looked to her and gasped, so surprised that he dropped a copy of Les Bijoux Indiscrets right on the carpet, where it landed with a thud that made him jump again.
She giggled, her earlier worries completely forgotten in this sport. “I’m sorry to startle you, only I thought it only fair to give you a taste of your own medicine.”
Edward laughed, though his eyes betrayed a certain discomfort she could not quite identify. “Have I been that obvious in my behaviour of late?” he asked with a half-hearted smile. “I’d hoped to be a bit more subtle.”
Clara frowned thoughtfully. “I meant only the last time you surprised me here, the other day.”
His eyes widened and he gave another nervous laugh. “O-oh,” said Edward as he bent down to retrieve the fallen book, which he proceeded to hold awkwardly in front of him. “Of course, yes.”
“But…what did you mean about your behaviour?” she asked. “I have hardly seen you since…well, that is, since our conversation in your study.”
The tall, dark-eyed man licked his lips and shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. “I…” he began before trailing off. Clara gave him a look of encouragement, and slowly he continued, “I confess, I have been trying to avoid…running into you, these past few days. I thought it might help prevent any difficult interactions. Conversations, I mean. For you.”
“Surely you aren’t serious?” Clara scoffed. “Why, I’ve been doing the same thing. For…er, much the same reason.”
Their eyes locked. As one, they glanced toward the door, then back at one another, as if confirming just how alone they were in this quiet corner of the vast house. Clara saw a hunger in Edward’s gaze, and as those beautiful dark orbs swept down her body she felt her insides warm and weaken, feeling her nipples harden as he seemed to tear the dress off her body with just his look.
This was a mistake, cried the voice of reason within Clara. Consider your resolve tested and make your exit before you make things worse, girl!
They took a step toward one another, and in a smoky tone Edward asked, his eyes not leaving hers, “Were you really so worried about running into me?”
“I was,” she answered. “Or I think I was, at least.”
For both our sakes, she reminded herself in an increasingly insistent voice. Snuff out these feelings. Do not give voice to them. They will disappear if you only let them do so.
They stepped closer.
“What were you afraid might happen if we did end up meeting?”
“I’m…not sure,” Clara lied.
Don’t do it.
Edward stood right in front of her now in the shadow of the enormous bookshelf. She could feel his masculine scent enter her body with each shallow, shuddering breath she took.
“Were you afraid I might kiss you again?” he asked, his voice quiet, insistent, low enough that it provoked a quiver that reached deep into Clara’s womanhood.
Don’t—
“Yes,” she breathed.
And with that one word, it was all over for her mighty resolve.
Clara did not know if they made any sound at all, but within her it felt like a veritable explosion as their lips found one another hungrily, their tongues meeting in glorious confluence. All the concerns and reservations that had hung over her flew away like a flock of colourful birds, and Clara was left only with a deeper, more exalted joy than anything she had known.
His hand gripped her soft fingers, and Clara whimpered as she felt her back pressed against the back wall of their alcove in the library. She was delighted by just how strong he was, how large and powerful—more than she had imagined, even. She felt the force of his passionate kiss rob her legs of their strength, stirring the arousal within her to its boiling point.
“Oh,” she gasped as his lips felt their way to her neck, uncovering sites of pleasure she had never known. Be quiet, you fool! Lest you both be discovered and your reputations ruined, the voice in her head urged her.
But somehow this thought itself provoked another wave of excitement within her. The danger of being found out, the whispered reminder to keep her exhalations quiet, the sacred quiet of the library—all these impulses mingled within Clara’s mind and heightened her erotic drive still further.
Clara felt her hands snaking up around Edward’s neck, pulling his head closer still to the warm, pale skin of her neck. “Yes,” she whispered, and as her tongue flicked against his ear she felt a surge of pride within her as he gave a low grunt of pleasure.
Again and again, their lips clashed, discovering still greater depths of ecstasy within one another. His hands were everywhere at once, stoking the fire that burned within her as they brushed against her hip, her waist, her breast. The world faded away entirely so there was nothing left but the two of their bodies—nothing worth giving any consideration to, at least.
Clara feared she might faint when she heard Edward whisper in her ear, “I want this, Clara. I want you. I have never wanted anything so much as this.”
And with her wordless, euphoric exhalation, Clara declared to Edward and any spirits that chanced to watch over the St. George library on that spring day:
I want this, too. Now, and for the rest of my days.
