|Maella Abbey (maella_abbey) wrote,|
@ 2008-03-04 20:52:00
He had yet to see Alexandria in spring - had arrived at the tail of summer, only stayed through autumn because Jessica needed him - but Angelo was fairly sure winter would prove out to be his favorite season. Storms tended to sweep in at night, howling around the Albert mansion and leaving the sloped path into the town treacherous, providing a fine excuse for him to remain after he dined with Jessica and her mother.
The first few weeks, he stayed in the guest room on the first floor; this did nothing to hinder Jessica from visiting after everyone else was asleep, and if it required her to leave before he was ready to give her up, that was a small price to pay.
Then winter set in in earnest, with wet, bitter winds that could steal the breath from a man's lungs and fair lift him off his feet, and Angelo woke to learn the servants had retrieved his belongings from the inn and he was to spend the remainder of his stay in a much larger room upstairs. That the room was merely a few doors down from Jessica's was an added bonus.
Jessica failed to visit him three nights running before he realized who the room must have belonged to before.
The fourth night, it took him far longer than it should have to leave the room and make his way the few yards to her door. He wasn't sure why; the house was long quiet, and even had it not been, he doubted they were fooling Rosalind, and he was damned sure they hadn't managed to fool the servants since Jessica's first clandestine visit.
Possibly, it was the same thing which made him hesitate for long minutes before trying her door, made him breathe a sigh of relief to find it unlocked.
"I'm sorry." Jessica didn't turn from where she was silhouetted against the window, staring out at the rain-swept night. "It's not that I didn't want to come, I just..."
"It's all right." He put his hands on her shoulders. "I can't say I fancy making love to you with your brother's ghost looking over my shoulder, anyway."
She tensed, and he feared he'd said the wrong thing. Then she laughed, soft, a little sad, but still a laugh.
"Alistair would have liked you, I think. He was always...well, let's just say if you could win me over, you could have won him over."
"Not the same way, I hope."
"You're dreadful." Jessica reached back, swatting his hip, then holding on, squeezing. Angelo felt a burst of arousal, knew that was her intent when she rubbed back against him. "And it doesn't seem like you'd have much of an objection," she teased.
Angelo kissed the side of her neck. "I assure you, I'd much rather be with you."
Her breath caught, and she exhaled slowly. "Prove it."
He ran his hand up the front of her nightgown - far too sheer for the weather they were having, proof she'd been waiting for him - and squeezed the nipples already pressing hard against the fabric. Jessica gasped; his free hand turned her face toward him to take advantage of her parted lips, tongue eagerly tangling with hers. She ground back against him again, then turned in his arms to pull at his clothing, without breaking their kiss for more than a moment.
Angelo got her nightgown unbuttoned so that the fabric spilled down her body to pool at her feet, and the scent of her arousal hit him, made him groan against her lips. His shirt was gone a moment later, and he picked her up; she wrapped her legs around his waist, her cunt pressed hot and slick and tempting against his bare stomach.
It was all he could do to make it to the bed.
He placed her gently on the down-turned blankets and stripped, his movements hastened by the way she watched him, eyes black pools in the dim light, fingers of one hand squeezing her breast, tugging the nipple, while the fingers of her other hand combed through the russet curls between her thighs before vanishing into her body. She pressed up into her own touch with a moan, and his hands faltered, suddenly clumsy as he shed the last of his clothing.
Finally he was free to join her, to climb between her spread legs and rain kisses upon her air-chilled skin. Her fingers tangled in his hair and tugged, until he lay stretched against her, her breasts pressed tight to his chest. The hand with which she'd been pleasuring herself wrapped around him, fingers slick and hot, breaking what was left of his self control.
He pushed into her, and she bucked up to meet him. They knew each other's bodies well enough, now, that even near-desperate they meshed, found the rhythm of straining flesh and eager touches. Too soon it was over, though Angelo doubted he could have borne another second of waiting. Still trembling, he reached down between them, stroking gently until Jessica jerked and tightened around his softening member; he held her until her body stilled and relaxed, then lay beside her, content to hold her in his arms.
"I should go," he said at length, when her warmth and soft breathing threatened to lull him into sleep.
Jessica caught his arm, held it in place around her. "Stay."
He suspected he ought to insist; a token objection at the very least. Instead, he drew the blankets up over them and let the rain lull him to sleep.