happyfalcon | [For Thomas] Changing Seasons

[For Thomas] Changing Seasons

There was no doubt, it had been hard. In the weeks that followed, Anne only got a few fleeting looks at Thomas Wyatt. Every once in a while they were able to steal fleeting kisses of the briefest touch of fingers at banquets. The letters they wrote were far more significant. Poetic verses, promises, sweet words - both were exchanged in equal passion.

But recently, Anne's happiness had taken a drastic drop. Henry had been pressuring her lately, wanting to make his relationship with Anne more public. She had refused, coyly at first, then logically. Her argument had been that, while he was married, it wouldn't do to have them both seen in public together. Henry had agreed at first without question. Recently though, he had started to grow annoyed. This would have been fine, except that Thomas Boleyn was beginning to feel the pressure as well, and was pressuring Anne to accept the king's public advances.

What else could she do? As the days grew darker, Anne turned to the only person she could trust without question: Thomas.

Anne wrote a letter, quickly and carefully when she finally had a free moment:

Dearest Poet:

Would that I could write of my fondness for you now; to tell you, as I often have these past days, that it is you that I love more than any. Alas, today I write to you with the gravest matter - The Lion seeks to show off his prize to the jackals that surround him. To show that the falcon is his, and belongs to no other.

What shall the falcon do, dear heart? You know well of the others that surround it, and the dangers the falcon faces should it refuse The Lion - though it wants nothing more than to do so.

I hope, dearest love, that you and your most brilliant mind are able to manifest some solution.

Until then, Poet, as always you have my heart, and my happiness lies with you alone.

Sincerest love,
~Brunet

Hopefully, Thomas's crafty mind would identify the new characters she developed to avoid dropping names. The Falcon, herself; The Lion, the king. What could she do? What should she do?

Slipping out of her chamber, folded letter in hand, Anne stepped down to their designated spot. No guards, no prying eyes in sight. Still, Anne kept the letter in her sleeve until she reached the left urn. Pretending to drop a bracelet, Anne dipped down to retrieve it, slipping the letter into the urn swiftly in the time it took to grab the bracelet and stand up. She continued on without a word.

Hopefully, Thomas could reply to her soon.

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Anne let him get close, was quiet as he dusted off the snow he'd flung at her only moments ago. Then his hands are around her and a warmth floods through her entire body that gives her comfort. She didn't care if a servant noticed them. Let it happen. Let them see. For this brief moment she wanted to at least ponder the possibility of the two of them being able to do this freely. His whisper of her code name sends a tremor running through her. It's only then that she looks up at him and smiles.

"You needn't apologize, my dear Poet," she chuckles a bit. "I enjoy the cold now and again. Even better with company such as yours. But yes, a hot drink does indeed sound nice."

She walked with him, snow already starting to fall again. They walk over the moat and inside the castle where she surrendered her fur cloak and gloves to a servant. Apparently Mary, George and some other guests were drinking warm mulled wine in the library. Anne pondered a moment, thinking about where Elizabeth Boleyn would be at this time of day.

"With the weather, and so many guests in the library, mother is likely in father's study," Anne glanced to the servant. "Will you escort Master Wyatt to the lady of the house and announce him to her?"

Anne gave a soft smile and curtseyed for Thomas. Her dark gaze came up again to catch his. "If you don't mind, Sir Thomas, I shall leave you to it. I believe I shall join my siblings in the library for something warm to drink, the walk has indeed made me cold. But of course you're welcome to join once your business with mother is concluded!"

She gave him a fleeting smile before she turned and left for the library. With the weather getting worse again as the day went on, the remaining guests and the Boleyns stayed inside and the festivities began again. There was music, dancing and carrying on. Anne and Mary had taken to changing into nicer gowns as day turned to night; Mary clad in a fine light blue gown, and Anne in red. George took it upon himself to get the minstrels to play the fastest tunes to keep the guests entertained. Food was served throughout the day in vast quantities, along with the wine. William asked Mary to dance, to which she only agreed to after Anne insisted that she go. Mary didn't want to leave Anne alone with all the festivities going on around them.

But Anne was content to drink the wine and just enjoy the energy that flowed throughout the house. Though of course, her gaze was searching for the proper partner with whom to share a dance. At one point though, as George sauntered out with some lady in a yellow dress to dance, he swatted Anne's shoulder, making her yelp and nearly making her spill her wine.

"C'mon Annie!" He called to her with a grin. Anne simply rolled her eyes and tipped her cup to George before taking a long drink of its contents.

Anne's mother had graciously accepted his small gift and assured that the spices would be put to good use by Hever's skillful cook. Out of politeness Wyatt spent a moment conversing with the lady and in doing so, got a bit of an lesson on herbs in general. Rosemary, she had said, was known for improving memory and mint was not only a good seasoning for meat but also had medicinal value in fighting colds and stomach aches.

Wyatt, in turn, could explain that the lavender he'd brought had been grown in Provence and peasants there produced wonderful lavender oil that helped heal wounds. He apologized for not having been able to buy such oil but expressed a wish that the dried herbs would still somehow work their wonders when used in cooking.

As Wyatt had thus revealed the true destiny of his travels, Thomas Boleyn was all too curious to ask him to elaborate on the matter. Wyatt didn't feel like he had the right to go into details so he gave only a roundabout answers which thankfully seemed to satisfy the lord.

Then finally he was able to join the other guests in the library and got served the long-awaited hot drink. The Boleyns knew how to entertain, that much was clear. They spared neither effort nor expense when putting together festivities and this New Year's day was no exception. After his lonely days on the road, Wyatt delighted in the company of others. Even trivial news and conversation was very welcome to him and he joined in with all the joking and merrymaking.

A fair share of his good mood was obviously due to being able to see Anne. All too often his gaze sought her out in the room; secret looks and brief smiles that spoke volumes of his feelings. She was his spark of fire, dressed in a red gown.

Wyatt approached her when the music and dancing really started to pick up and even shy William found the courage to ask Mary. He bowed down, as it was the proper thing to do, and held out his hand to her.

"I believe there was talk last night of us dancing together. I like this tune, so... may I have this dance, Annie?"

Anne smiled happily when Thomas stepped up to her. She hid that smile behind her wine cup as he bowed and offered his hand. Then she relinquished her cup to a servant and clutched her skirts in both hands to curtsy before slipping her hand into Thomas's.

"You may - so long as you promise to never call me 'Annie' again," Anne still smiled though.

George called her 'Annie' because he knew she hated it. And of course only Mary could call her 'Nan'. But Anne laughed a bit as she leaned a little nearer to Thomas. "Besides, you already have a proper nickname for me, haven't you?"

It was a merry tune, but a slightly slow one - there would be no changing partners for this particular dance. Anne stepped onto the dance floor with Thomas, her fingers laced with his. George and Mary seemed amused enough with their own partners to pay Anne and Thomas any mind. Anne's dark eyes fell upon Thomas, unable to fight the smile that blossomed across her lips.

"You realize, my dear Thomas, you have made decent headway on our little wager, but you've yet to secure a win," she teased him, keeping her voice low but still only speaking in general terms that no one would be scandalized over.

"I promise, if that name displeases you so. I was not aware," he replied solemnly. He didn't remember ever having heard of it before. In hindsight, it had come from George's mouth, so there could be some childhood issues behind it.

He nodded at her mention of a nickname. "That I do. It was... now if I could only recall... the Wittiest?" Wyatt flashed a smile an instant before he had to let go of Anne's hand and make a turn to the right and step around her.

Her challenge earned a pair of raised eyebrows from Wyatt but having to concentrate on the dancesteps prevented him from giving an immediate response. He couldn't really believe she'd refuse him at the end but in no way could he simply sit back and wait until the apple fell down onto his lap, either.

"There is more to man's life than winning a bet," he offered, when again facing her, "but whenever that is the goal, I've found that by taking things slowly, a better outcome can be reached."

They had to again step in opposite directions before returning to one another. "Think of waterdrops falling on marble. One drop does nothing, but in time a multitude of them will erode the stone. A lady's heart may be soft but it is often much harder to penetrate than a marble."

He squeezed her hand and whispered. "I will take my own time seducing you, mistress Boleyn."

Anne gave a soft laugh at his new nickname for her. Oh, she could indeed get used to a name like that. Anne just smiled her response to him, turning when she needed to perform the dance.

Besides, a simple dance was the farthest thing from her mind. Especially when he spoke so eloquently and with such finesse. As he whispered to her, Anne blushed slightly. Oh, she wouldn't likely refuse him, she just liked to tease him - but if he kept speaking like that...oh, Anne was already aching with need for him. For so long, for so many weeks beforehand, they had not been together.

She was about ready to combust, do great was her need.

Teasing and bring clever was her way of combating this, but her defense was wearing thin. As Anne gave his hand a brief squeeze before pulling away to complete another turn around him, she glanced at him over her shoulder with a dark gleam in her eyes.

"Ever the artist, I would never seek to interfere with your work," she purred. "Shall you make me your next masterpiece?"

Anne smiled mischievously as she completed the turn and the music faded and the ladies curtseyed to their partners before a new melody began.

"How can I make a masterpiece out of something that already surpasses perfection?" he asked, genuine wonder in his hushed voice. Music was fading but thankfully his words were subdued by all the cheering and clapping of hands so that only Anne could hear him.

The dancers assembled into a new formation for another piece. This dance required them to switch partners and therefore it was harder to maintain any kind of real conversation but Wyatt was just as happy to simply smile at her, to hold her hand when possible or speak words less important than he would have otherwise done.

He did, however, manage to whisper something to Mary as they were going in circles hand in hand, and then a little bit later Mary was repeating his words to George, who glanced at Wyatt's direction and nodded. When this dance was completed, George raised his voice before the musicians had a chance to start another song.

"Friends, and family! May I have your attention, please?" he started with his hands up in the air. "As we all know, our little party got a welcome addition last night with the arrival of one... frosty poet." The crowd turned to look at Wyatt and murmured their approval. "I hear they have a new poem for us to enjoy today. I suggest we take a small break from dancing and let Master Wyatt recite his newest piece of work."

George gestured Wyatt to step forward which he then did, smiling at the crowd. "Thank you, George. This poem came about as I travelled south and visited the port of Seaford. I began thinking of sailors in the Mediterranean and of their encounters with Venus, rising from the sea. English winters are cold and I doubt the goddess graces us with her presence in these waters but I would like to believe we have beauty here that equals her nonetheless."

His cheeks might have blushed saying that; after all it was rather sentimental. Wyatt then paused to let the audience to get ready.

"Though this port : and I thy servaunt true,
And thou thy self doist cast thy bemes from hye
From thy chieff howse, promising to renew
Both Joye and eke delite, behold yet how that I,
Bannisshed from my blisse, carefully do crye,
"Helpe now, Citherea, my lady dere,
"My ferefull trust," en vogant la galere.

Alas the dowbt that dredfull absence geveth
Withoute thyn ayde ; assuraunce is there none :
..."

He continued through all the four verses of the poem, sometimes taking a longer pause between words when he couldn't quite decide how he wanted the lines to flow, and sometimes giving special emphasis on certain words and phrases. All for Anne.

...Forget me not, en vogant la galere."

That was the end of the poem. Wyatt had been looking past the guests as he spoke, but now his gaze fell up the people that so quietly had been listening. He smile again, anxiously waiting to know how well the poem was received.

((OOC: Full poem with modern spelling & notes/explanation here:
http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/Archive/Wyatt16.htm#anchor001 ))

Anne blushed and gave him a teasing smile as he praised her so highly. Really, how could he think so highly of her? She was certainly no Venus, yet he always spoke such sweetness to her. And though she didn't necessarily agree with him, she never tired hearing it. Mary received such declarations from her suitors in vast quantities. But Anne much preferred the quality of Thomas's words to any other.

When the music started anew and the next dance began, Anne found her partner switched to the timid William. To avoid drawing attention to herself, she didn't seek where Thomas had gone with her eyes again, she merely exchanged pleasantries with William, teased him about her sister and made him blush.

But then George's hollering startled them both. As he made the announcement and described Thomas as being 'frosty' Anne couldn't help but laugh a little. She and William stepped back out of formation as George commanded to give Thomas proper space, though Anne made it a point to stand up front beside Mary to hear him best. Again she blushed as he spoke of beauty here that at least equaled Venus - was he...referring to her? No, he must have been referring to their fair country, for she knew he loved it so. Yes, that must have been it.

Silently Anne listened, entranced. His written words were captivating enough, but when Thomas actually took the opportunity to read his compositions aloud, it was positively bewitching. There was no room for doubt - this was for her. Anne couldn't help the self-centered thought; but for whom else could this possibly be dedicated? She bit the side of her tongue to keep tears from her eyes.

En vogant la galere.

Mary, always enamored with such art, was the first to applaud. The smile spread across Anne's lips before she too was clapping. Others around them absolutely erupted into applause that seemed to echo throughout the entire house. Despite everyone in the room, Anne's eyes were fixed on Thomas. For her, there was no one else in the room.

"Wonderful!!" Mary called out to him joyously, nudging Anne playfully.
"As always," Anne's voice was softer but she was just that overcome with emotion that she could not will her voice any louder. But the smile on her face conveyed her approval and admiration clear enough.

A big smile spread across his face, so grateful was he to receive such cheer, although it made him slightly embarrassed as well. His eyes went to Mary as she was so near and clapping her hands so vigorously, but it was Anne's more subtle applause that made him drop his gaze to his feet. He clasped his hands together and made a bow before thanking everyone and stepping aside.

"Music!" George ordered while bringing Wyatt a cup of wine. "Here, you deserve a drink, my friend. That was excellent. It begs one crucial question, however." He took a sip from his own cup and grinned. "Who is this woman that inspires such poetry in you? Do not tell it is someone you briefly met in Seaford."

Wyatt shook his head, hoping that Anne wouldn't hear George's half-witted insinuation but in vain. The two Boleyn sisters were still standing nearby. Though it turned out to be for the best as Mary stepped up right then.

"Don't spoil the memory of a lovely poem, George," Mary chastised her brother. "We enjoyed it thoroughly, didn't we, Nan? Shall we dance some more? This music is perfect for circle dancing."

((ooc: Gah, all those typos in my last paragraph/previous tag: fell upon, he smiled again))

Anne smiled as Wyatt so humbly bowed and accepted the praise. He didn't let it go to his head like others might. But of course, being so close, she heard George's question and rolled her eyes. Thank heavens for Mary speaking up first, as Anne felt free to add to her sister's comment.

"Of course we did, it was wonderful! Pay no mind to our brother, Master Wyatt. Your poem was lovely, as always!" Anne smiled, waving George off. But her attention was back on Mary to answer her question. "I think for now Mary I'll partake of the pastries and fine wine, but you go on!"

Mary pouted but soon another male guest whisked her off to join the dancing. Anne took a goblet of wine from a passing servant and drank slowly. The music and frivolity were indeed wonderful, but as the hour was drawing late, more guests were beginning to retire to their rooms for the evening. The room was slowly but surely emptying. But this didn't bother Anne. The more guests left, the closer it would be to bedtime.

Then she could sneak back to Thomas's room once again. This time, she wouldn't be able to just sleep beside him.

But she tried not to think too much on her plans just yet. It would only make her more anxious. So Anne just enjoyed her wine and plucked up a small pastry when a servant came near.

George disappeared as well, seeking the company of the lady he'd been dancing with before, the one in a yellow dress, so Wyatt was left alone with Anne. Well, as 'alone' as one could be in this situation. He followed her lead in snatching a pastry from a passing servant. His was a savoury pie with a chicken filling. Biting into that, Wyatt glanced around the room.

He swallowed the first piece and smiled faintly. "Would you care to play a game of cards with me? It looks like there's a table free right there." He nodded towards the corner where a pack of cards had been left haphazardly on a small round table.

Wyatt walked over there, placed his pie and drink on the side and gathered the cards into his hands. "A round of Cent?" he asked, turning back to Anne. "I thought we could sit for a while before you need to retire for the night."

((ooc: I didn't read the whole thing nor do I intend to exactly play out the game but I found it here: http://www.davpar.eu/histocs/piquet.html

And thanks for the new pictures!))

Anne's pastry had lamb filling, which she would eat but it wasn't her favorite. A bit too rich for her liking. She followed his gaze to the empty table and returned his smile. Slowly she nodded even as she started for the table.

"Sounds like fun, indeed let's," Anne moved to sit at the table and set her pastry and wine at the one side of the table.

She nodded at the suggestion of Cent. It wasn't her favorite game, but she was good at it. Anne was good at a lot of card games. She tapped her fingers on the table, waiting for him to deal.

"It does indeed sound nice - a relaxing game of cards before cuddling up in bed under the covers," Anne smiled. "Finding some way to keep warm."

((ooc: Thanks for the link! :) ))

"I see you're trying to get me off-balance before we've even begun. Not that I mind the images you plant in my head," he said laughing. There was a hint of nervousness in his voice. He wanted her badly and having to restrain himself like this was agony but he also feared for her reputation.

Wyatt tossed out the cards with numbers smaller than seven and after shuffling the rest carefully, dealt twelve cards for both of them.

"You know the thing George was trying to imply... there's no truth behind it. You're the only one. The only one I'm with, or think about. Just you." He touched his heart again, like he often did to express his feelings, but he also moved his leg under that small table so that the tip of his boot touched her shoe.

"Just a quick game, I propose," he said, looking at his cards more closely now. His hand wasn't too bad but there were entirely more interesting activities to look forward to.

Anne chuckled, glancing up to him with her eyes alight with mischief. "I'm certain I don't know what you mean, dear heart." She took her cards when he dealt them and glanced them over.

As he spoke again, Anne's gaze paused. She couldn't stop her smile and slowly she looked up, and only then did she tilt her head up. Of course she'd given no credence to George's words. He had no idea what he was talking about, as usual. But the fact that Thomas spoke up to clarify, to make sure she knew the truth...it made her incredibly happy. She brushed her shoe against the side of his boot in return.

"I know, but thank you. I do so enjoy hearing you say it, after all," Anne grinned.

Then her attention was back on her cards to pay proper mind to the game. "Agreed," she nodded. The guests were dwindling now, they wouldn't be missed if they left at the same time shortly enough. "A quick card game at least...some games are worth drawing out, don't you think?"

"You know I do. It's been too long since we've played that game," he replied quietly, looking softly into her eyes. She was so fine and understanding. He couldn't quite comprehend his luck.

Taking a sip from his drink, Wyatt waited Anne to draw replacements to her cards first, then did the same with his. He fell into a silence, concentrating on gaining a combination of cards that would earn him the most points.

There was still some chatter in the room and a lone lute player plucked the strings of his instrument at his pleasure. The Boleyn wine was being consumed by the remaining men and women.

Wyatt kept his voice low as he spoke again. "I suggest you leave first. I'll stay behind and follow soon after. Be as you are now... for to draw out the game, I wish to undress you."

He discarded the Queen of Hearts on the table. Maybe not a smart move regarding the card game but he didn't care.

Edited (typo) 2014-10-28 09:03 (UTC)

Anne's attention on the game completely faded. It had indeed been far too long, as he'd said. Anne found herself picturing the last time they'd been together - thunder and lightning crashing outside while they'd moaned out their pleasure. For a moment Anne faltered, remembering his hands at her breasts and his quill at her back. But she soon snapped out of her reverie and discarded - a Jack, no less.

Her eyes flickered up to meet his gaze as he spoke. Anne's chest heaved up and down rapidly. The turn completed, she revealed her hand - not the best play of her gambling career.

Anne nodded slowly, agreeing with his suggestion. For another moment she was lost to her daydreaming, imagining the drag of his fingers over her skin as he undressed her.

"I hope you'll forgive my impatience, I don't think I can last five more hands," her voice was low. "I'll surrender to you this time...though of course, regarding our other game, it will hardly be the last time I do so..."

With that she rose, abandoning her cards, taking a long drink from her cup and bowing her head to him.

"I eagerly await our next game, and I shall give it my all, be sure of that," Anne smiled teasingly as she started out of the room.

Down the hall she went, a brief glance revealed she was alone, and she ducked into Thomas's room and waited impatiently.

A Jack and the Queen? That thought almost stopped Wyatt but he pushed his doubts aside, especially as she talked about surrendering to him. In his mind, he had surrendered to her a long time ago. He was careful not to let his eyes wander but Anne's heavy breathing was evident even when not looking directly at her bosom.

"Impatience can be a virtue...," he tried some feeble explanation for the burning they both felt in their bodies. "Good night," he added, raising slightly from his chair as Anne left the room.

Wyatt exhaled. Then he finished his drink. He didn't want Anne to wait unnecessarily, but he had to give her some time to get to his room without anyone noticing. He got up slowly, shrugging his shoulders. George was occupied with his lady friend, Mary nowhere to be seen. Nobody important would miss him, so Wyatt saw it fit to leave.

He didn't bother knocking on the door to let Anne know he was coming. That would have been suspicious behaviour, it was his room after all. He simply slipped inside and sought out for her with the intention of enveloping her into a warm embrace.

She wasn't waiting long, still every second felt like an agonizing hour. How was she to last without his touch? Without his embrace? Without his kiss? Luckily, she didn't have to wonder. Anne only just barely gave Thomas the moment to shut the door behind him before she readily opened herself to his embrace. Both arms were around his neck with her body flush against his. God, had it really only been a few hours since he'd held her?

But an embrace alone wouldn't satisfy her. Anne tipped her head back slightly to feverishly press her lips against his. Her tongue wasted no time chasing the taste of wine on his mouth, as if she hadn't drank enough herself.

Normally there were witty phrases and soft promises at this point, but Anne had not patience enough for that now. She was burning, crushed beneath the weight of her skirts as though they were made of mortar. Already her fingers impatiently slid down his chest to his doublet, shaking as they moved the clasps undone.

This showed her desperate need, but the soft moaning likely proved it further. Anne broke slowly from his mouth and trailed kisses to his jaw and further to his earlobe.

"Thomas..." she'd been waiting for so long. Too long.

He muttered something unintelligible into her hair before she moved her lovely mouth against his and made the world spin around. Holding Anne's face as they kissed, Wyatt walked them further into the tiny room, to stand near the foot of the bed.

He smiled into the kiss as Anne's nimble fingers worked on those clasps. Meanwhile his own hands found the ties to her skirts. He tugged them loose impatiently, only stopping enough to allow her to slide the doublet down his arms and let it fall onto the floor.

Wyatt closed his eyes, moaning in response, and tilted his head in the direction she wanted at first, but then leaned forward to press hot kisses across her bare shoulders. With a needy sigh he dropped down on his knees. Anne could take support on his shoulders as he proceeded to lift her feet up one at a time in order to remove her shoes. He then slid his hands under her skirt and caressed the backs of her legs all the way up until he could squeeze her backside.

Bringing his hands back out in the open and wrapping them around Anne's hips, Wyatt pressed the side of his face against the hard of her bodice. Then he pushed her skirt and farthingale down to her feet and rose up again.

((ooc: I got so stuck in this tag for not wanting to assume what she was wearing (didn't know what you had in mind; a dress or a skirt + bodice) but I hope the latter is ok. It just fit my purposes better.))

Edited (sorry, needed to add a bit) 2014-10-29 00:59 (UTC)

Being naked and ready for him that first time in London had been fun. It had been wonderful. But clothed as she was now, to allow Thomas to undress her himself was so much better. Especially how he was going about it. When he dropped so suddenly to his knees and lifted her first foot Anne actually stumbled a little and gripped his shoulders a bit tighter than she would have had she been prepared. But her grip loosened when she had steadied and he moved on to the other foot - free of her shoes at least.

Oh, but his touch at her thighs...that had her nails gripping the fabric of his undershirt. Anne's head tipped back a bit and a soft moan escaped her as his fingers traveled higher. But then they were gone again - out from under her skirts and back at her hips. With his face pressed so flush against her, Anne couldn't help the smile on her face as she pushed her fingers through his hair.

Once he was back up again, Anne lifted one foot first, then the other to nudge her discarded clothes out of the way. She kept her lips just slightly away from Thomas for the moment, instead locking her gaze with his while her fingers trailed down, finding the hem of his trousers. One hand slid lower still and gave the most fleeting touch to his bulge. Her usual fox-like self wanted to tease him further, while her burning self wanted nothing more than to have him pin her down to the bed.

As if to satisfy both quarreling sides, Anne leaned up again to kiss him hard. Her lips slightly parted with just the tip of her tongue flicking against his lower lip.

Her fingers in the meanwhile tugged and teased at his trousers, pulling the laces loose slowly, as if the kiss were distracting her.

((ooc: That's absolutely fine! Seems like there would be more layers than usual anyway considering it's a special occasion!))

There was no way he could have prevented his body reacting to her, no matter how fleeting a touch. In fact, when they were alone in this way, her mere presence got him hard. Wyatt pulled his shirt from under his trousers but was stopped from taking it all off by her intense gaze.

"You like that, eh?" he chuckled when Anne's hand brushed against his groin, as if it was by accident. As if. He looked down and smiled, and then they were back to kissing. Keeping their bodies at a small distance except from lips firmly connected, she was able to untie his trousers while he reached behind her back to get to the corset strings. He moved his hips under her touch.

"I like that," he gasped, answering his own question a little late as well as a little breathless. He absolutely loved her for being so forward. Everything was so much easier when he didn't have to pretend this was something other than it was. But despite of the urgency he felt in every inch of his body, he wasn't going to make love to her with his boots on and his trousers dropped to his knees like it had happened at the night of the masquarade. Lovely memory it was and all, but not how he wanted to be intimate with her.

After getting those laces undone, Wyatt pulled off her bodice, then brought her hands to the hem of his shirt and lifted up his arms. "I undress you and you undress me."

The twitch of her lips into a smirk should have been proof enough that she liked it. But really, there should have been no question in the first place. Her immediate urge when he started kissing her again was to press her body against his, but he kept them apart just slightly. Anne couldn't help it though when her back arched as his fingers worked at the strings of her corset. Her quick and nimble fingers did indeed fumble and tug at the laces of his trousers. She was only too eager to be rid of them.

Thomas finished with her corset before she was completely done with his trousers, thus they didn't fall, and he demanded the attention of her fingers elsewhere. She tilted a brow at him as he issued the direction. But she obeyed, gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it up over his head. Of course she couldn't keep it as simple as that. As the fabric dragged up his body, Anne leaned hers against him. Then as his shirt cleared over his head she brought her lips up to press against his neck, his chin, then pause at his lips.

"As if I needed instruction," her eyes lit mischievously at that. Really though, he should know her better - when Anne wanted something, she pursued it wholeheartedly.

Her lips pressed more fully against his as she finished with the ties of his trousers, finally loosening them completely and letting them fall. She pushed down his linen undergarment as well. But of course there were his boots to deal with.

Naturally, Anne had a plan.

"You'd best lean against the bedpost," she whispered. Then slowly she knelt down, waited for him to obey her suggestion before her fingers wrapped around the ankle of his boot. As she began to lift his foot slightly to pull the boot off, Anne leaned forward and teased her tongue against the underside of his length. All the while she didn't break eye contact with Thomas.

With his shirt gone, he was all too happy to have Anne pressed against his bare skin. His hands roamed along her arms and sides, and gently groped her rear. He couldn't get enough of touching it. Women wore low-cut dresses and displayed their breasts every day. Wyatt was more captivated with what was hidden, whether it was of physical kind or a mental one.

As Anne pushed down his trousers and knelt in front of him, a smile broke across his face. He supported himself against the frame of the bed, one hand behind the bedpost, the other ghosting over her cheek.

"God, Anne-." He was not ready for that. All the muscles in his abdomen rippled as her warm tongue wetted his cock. And having her look up at the same time... He closed his fist with a handful of her hair, still smiling.

Probably losing half of his remaining dignity Wyatt hopped to the side after Anne had removed his left boot. It certainly wasn't the easiest to try to lift up a leg while his trousers were at his knees. Sitting on the bed and leaning back on his arms worked much better. He squirmed a bit, helping to shed the rest of his clothes.

"Come here." Wyatt pulled Anne close, hungry for her kisses. Moving his hands under her butt, he lifted Anne onto his lap.

Anne couldn't have been more pleased. That reaction out of Thomas, his grip on her hair, Anne loved it. Still, as he settled against the bed, fidgeting and squirming to get his clothes off, Anne couldn't help giggling. She loved this, his captivated stare and the way he touched her. Anne could live forever on his gaze and touch alone.

As he pulled her up Anne smiled. She settled easily in his lap, her legs on either side of his waist. Anne's fingers fluttered up his chest, along his neck and through his hair.

"Like that did you?" Anne whispered softly. "Dear Thomas, surely you already knew that I have a talented tongue?"

She leaned in, dragging her lips along his throat, running the very tip of her tongue along his pulse. Anne gave a slight roll of her hips, feeling his hardness and sighing out loud. Anne wanted this to last forever; she always wanted this to last.

"And what else do you like, my love?" Anne whispered, pressing her forehead against his and looking into his eyes. "What else would you like of your Brunet?"

Edited (god dammit autocorrect!!) 2014-10-31 01:46 (UTC)

"Mmm... don't I ever," he referred to the question of her tongue. She was kind enough to demonstrate the talent on-site, making him hum in pleasure. Wyatt's fingertips danced up and down along her spine.

As she rubbed against his arousal, his breathing got more rapid. Yes, yes, he did love that! It ought to be evident by the way his legs twitched underneath her. Eyes fluttering, for she was so near, he tilted his head to steal a wet little kiss. "You know I love anything and everything you're willing to grant me."

Wyatt leaned backwards to lie on the bed, pulling Anne along him. "I love... this." He loved all of this; the anticipation of lovemaking as much as the act itself.

His legs hung over the edge of the bed still. In order to get them more towards the middle of the bed, Wyatt lifted up his knees and somehow managed to buck backwards with Anne on top of him. He pushed away from the bedframe with his legs. Then he flipped her over.

"I apologize for not secuding you properly," he muttered before leaning in for a kiss while his fingers sank into her hair.

Anne leaned into him, letting him pull her back as he lied against the bed. Had he voiced the opinion, she would have agreed completely that the anticipation was just as good as lovemaking, or even made it that much better. As he flipped her over Anne couldn't help giggling and eagerly kissing him back. The feeling of his fingers running through her hair was heaven.

The suggestion that he hadn't properly seduced her was utter silliness to Anne.

"Not seducing me properly? I couldn't get through a single hand of Cent for wanting you, Thomas," she sighed as she trailed her fingers between them, along his abdomen and pausing at his hips.

Anne nudged his cheek with her nose to kiss his jaw. She trailed those kisses up along the line of his jaw to his ear, her breath hot against his skin while she sucked at his earlobe.

"What would you have done differently?" She whispered.

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