Epilogue: Plans for Next Year (RATED M Section)
A/N: This piece picks up where the last one left off! Pure M! Have fun! I enjoy constructive criticism on my more adult work! Reviews are loved and welcomed!
Ariadne walked back out into the main room, her purse tossed absentmindedly onto the counter. Moonlight streamed in through the large kitchen windows.
She and Arthur had compromised on that feature. He was adverse to wide windows, and she remembered them from her childhood, overlooking the vast forests. Windows had won out.
Even in the dulled light, her jewelry still glittered as she reached for a glass in the kitchen and got herself a drink. Normally, she wasn't up this late in the evening since Alexander had been born, but she was still very much awake even at this hour.
As she drank, she looked around and then addressed him, "Arthur? Why didn't you turn on the lights?"
The glass was taken from her hand and set down on the counter. Warm breath caressed the back of her neck and she felt the clasp on her haltered dress come loose. Feeling the two gathered pieces of fabric begin to slide down, she grabbed onto them in a moment of modesty and held them up, "Arthur?"
She turned around and faced him, his eyes reflecting in the moonlight. He took a step forward, trapping her against the counter. Deliberately, he grabbed her hands and entwined her fingers with his.
The top of her dress fell down to her waist, the rough texture of his jacket brushed against her bare chest. When he pressed in for a kiss, she found herself forced to respond by virtue of brisk air and neatly starched cloth. It elicited a moan from her lips.
Satisfied with her current state, the point man released her hands and embraced her, deepening the kiss.
When the break came, she was slightly dizzy from the intensity of it all and looked at him with no small amount of curiosity.
"I wanted my first kiss of the new year."
"Oh." She glanced down, "That doesn't explain this."
The point man didn't say a word, but instead reached behind her and took hold of her zipper. It went down with ease and the soft midnight blue fabric of her dress fell and pooled around her feet.
Arthur devoured the sight of her, relishing that she hadn't worn hose or stockings that evening. That look in his eyes was unmistakable and she still blushed even after all this time, "What about Alex? He's just down the hall."
"He won't wake up."
She still looked hesitant and he decided not to let a baseless fear spoil the evening, "Kiss me."
Ariadne eagerly complied.
Her lover's hands moved down her body, letting the fingers find every curve until they came to rest on her backside. There, they created bruises as he lifted her up onto the counter. When the cold marble touched her flesh, she had to stop herself from gasping aloud.
Instead, she found her mouth occupied again. Sitting just on the edge of the stone, her feet dangle inches above the floor, toes stretched in anticipation.
His mouth moved down to her neck, nipping at the soft flesh, marking it with raised red skin. Fingers found the straps on her underwear, and they came away from her.
She was laid naked in the moonlight, beautiful creature that she was to him, and he depended on the whims of the clouds to reveal the various parts of her body that he wanted to worship.
Ariadne shivered, even with his hot breath on her skin. His kisses trailed down further and forced her to take in a quick breath when he found her breast.
"Oh god!" It was little more than a fevered whisper into the otherwise quiet house.
At this moment, the point man was only serving himself. Being stripped in the dark was all the incentive Ariadne's body had needed, and he knew it.
His hands pushed her back to lay across the table, her brown hair falling over the edge. She couldn't see anything, only feel, and her heart jumped at being at his mercy. She had placed her full trust in him long ago, and whether it was a blindfold or the cover of night, it was always her pleasure to surrender.
Lips brushed over her stomach, kissing the ever soft flesh there, then went further. Her hips, her thighs, and then claimed the subject of their original intent.
Another strangled gasp in the middle of the night; another smirk on his face.
The point man treated her body as a musical instrument, playing it, caressing it, demanding what he wanted from it. His tongue worked in harmony with his long fingers, tapping out carnal notes that made the architect writhe and pant.
Arthur demanded perfection from himself, and he'd be damned if he hadn't studied every inch of her.
"Arthur!" It was a cry that was almost too loud. With her fingers wrapped around the edge of the table, her chest rose and fell as she came down from the heights. A bead of sweat ran down from her temple.
Everything was quiet again, and despite her still being out of breath, her blood pulsing in her ears, she listened to see if they had accidentally woken him.
She gave Arthur her hand and he pulled her up into a sitting position before taking her lips again. This time, they were burning and slick and the cold air of the kitchen couldn't touch her.
Her hands freed, she went to work on his belt, pulling the leather strap loose from its holds and throwing it to the floor. She made shorter work of the button and zipper and with legs that still felt like jelly, she used her feet to tug the fabric away. The boxers took a little more careful maneuvering, but she grinned against his lips as she negotiated it.
"Want me to return the favor?" She allowed her tongue to slip past his lips so he could catch her full meaning.
His response startled her, and she pulled away and looked at him, "Why not?"
The point man leaned in close, and she felt his manhood brushed against her. His point was instantly understood.
"Do you have something?"
"No." There was another long kiss, but she couldn't fully engage.
"No?" His lips returned to her throat, but this time, they took her with a hard passion, it was as painful as it was pleasurable, "You're not worried?"
"Worried?" He chuckled and she swore she could feel the vibration on her skin, "Maybe we'll get a girl this time."
Ariadne barely had time to process what he'd said. Arthur did nothing with reckless abandon, except perhaps herself. He must have been paying attention when she'd mused to her friend on the phone last week how much she'd like a baby sister for Alexander.
When he sheathed himself inside her, she bit her lip to keep from screaming. She wrapped one arm around him and leaned back on the other. Her ankles locked together around the small of his back and her hair hung about her eyes in a wild, wet tangle. He practically growled at how wanton she appeared.
There would never be a time from now on in that he would see her preparing food and not want to ravish her.
She detached herself from her pleasure for a moment to look at him. He appeared to be in no great rush to end their evening. There was an animalistic look in his eyes, firmly restrained by his ever present self-control.
At some point that night, it would break free and she would suffer the consequences willingly.
Nothing would ever make her run from him again.