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“Greta wants to play dirty, my sweet, so will we. Now go!” She shoved me from the room, Mary tossing a lace shawl over my shoulders.
“Why are you being so–”
“Go, Rosemary!” she hissed. I gaped, slowly treading down the stairs, sipping small breaths of air which strained my breasts against the corset and the neckline. I was certain they’d spill over.
I turned the corner into the parlor, the scene of William and my father deep in some conversation with their heads bowed, brows furrowed. I cleared my throat after a moment and waited. William looked instantly, his face softening. I watched as his eyes drank in every bit of the gown and my skin, the way they lingered on my breasts. Satisfaction curled at the base of my spine with the way his eyes darkened.
My father still stared diligently into the fire, somewhere far off in his mind. I walked over to William and placed my hand on his arm. He pulled back and in an easy stride, made it across the room to the snowy window. My heart sank with the rejection… I’d thought we were getting somewhere after the ride today.
“Father, is everything alright?” I whispered hoping to bring him out of his trance. He looked up, a bit dazed and nodded.
“Mr. Blackwell and I were just discussing the current situation of Christmas, is all. He says he has no family around these parts and asked if he could stay. I want to get your thoughts and your mother's before any decision is made.” Father’s eyes were glazed over, and somehow he was paler than before. I glanced to the side of William staring back at the two of us, his eyes narrowed on my father.
“I think it's a lovely idea,” I said quietly, still not looking away from William. Father took one last puff from his pipe, muttered an affirmation, and walked out to call for my mother.
There was a tangible charge in the air, an eerie feeling that caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end. William paced slowly back and forth; his hands shoved deep within his pockets. I noticed his eyes had gone back to their deep emerald green, his skin was slightly pink, and his lips redder in color. He looked more beautiful than he had yet.
I fiddled with a tassel on the shawl, pulling it over my chest and feeling defeated. William faced me and chuckled darkly.
“What's the matter, Rose? Don’t cover up for my sake, please.”
I walked slowly by the armchair, my hand resting on the back. Something told me to scream and run but I didn't. His features shifted, he looked dangerous and angry; less like himself than before.
“Is everything all right?” I whispered, for fear that Mary or someone else of importance might be nearby. In a blink he was standing inches from my face.
“Why do you ask?” William’s voice was smokey, seductive. I couldn’t help but throw my head back to look at him, my breath coming faster now, breasts straining to stay in place.
“You seem... different. And my father... he seemed…” I couldn't pull the words from my mouth, staring into his flaming eyes. I placed my hand on the swells of my breasts, willing my breathing to calm. William’s eyes locked on that hand, his own brushing against it, intertwining his fingers with mine.
His breath washed over my face, and for a moment I thought he might kiss me. He ran his thumb against the top of my breast, down just by the trim of the neckline and in between the middle of the two. I shuddered from the sensation, my breathing was too fast, the urge to pull him into a kiss and let him touch me was undeniable. I needed his hands on me, all over my bare skin. The place between my thighs began to throb, damp, warmth shooting through my veins.
“Kiss me,” I whimpered, no, begged. He smiled wickedly, leaning down to trace my necklace with his fingers once more, up the side of my neck, gathering my hair in his hand at the nape. I felt myself ache for him, pressing my hips into his.Touch me, please, touch me. I wanted to beg him, but nothing came out.
He let his lips graze mine ever so slightly, never fully making contact. I was going to come undone.
“Please,” I urged, trying to bring my mouth to his. “Kiss me, touch me,please,”
“You do beg so pretty,” he growled.
Letting go, William turned around and continued his pacing. I slumped against the chair, offended he could pull away so easily when I had been all-consumed. My underclothes felt drenched.
“I must leave now, I am sorry,” William strode out of the parlor. Startled, I followed quickly behind.
“Why? Where are you going?” I asked, sadness coloring my tone. He gathered his hat, gloves, coat, and cane, flinging open the door. William whirled to look at me, the wind blowing in from the outside was a knife, slicing through my light clothes easily. I wrapped my arms tighter around myself in an attempt to entrap my heat. William stepped toward me, cupping a hand around the side of my neck and pressing his forehead against mine.
“I'll be back, dearest Rose. I promise.”
Finally,he kissed me. Pure, raw need burst forth in a cry. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him there, sliding my tongue across his bottom lip, begging him to open for me. He gripped my breast with one hand, sliding the other down my side and around my waist. I moaned against his mouth, every part of meburning. Holding me against his body, his kiss turned ravenous, meeting my tongue with his own.
Until we heard footsteps drawing near. William smiled against my mouth, kissed me once more before pulling away and closing the door behind him. I stared at the door, feeling his absence sink in. The cold, the longing, the desperation. I tried to even my breathing, but in the pit of my stomach I knew nothing good would come from this.
Mary's stride stopped behind me at the bottom of the steps. She placed her hand on my shoulder, but I drew back.
“Miss, are you all right?” she questioned. I nodded woodenly, ignoring her other inquiries and marched up the stairs to the library. That day, I said little. I barely picked at my food, refused to read, and stared at the empty outside. I could tell it worried Mother, but Father acted rather the same.
When night came, I stared at the ceiling, watching as the flames danced across the room to silent music, much like William and I had done at the pond. All I could think of was the ghost of his lips against mine. Barely there but still tangible, still electric.
The way my body reacted to his touch, the warmth that washed over my every surface. I tossed and turned, feeling the peak of my breasts rub against my nightgown and the throbbing beg of the place between my thighs to be touched. I reached my hand down, gathering my nightgown and pulling it up, dragging my hands across the bare skin of my thighs.
