happyfalcon | [For Thomas] [Modern AU] Secret Holiday

Wyatt stored the information in a safe place in his mind; next time he'd know to buy lilies. Even if he thought Anne and roses went together perfectly.

"Ah, this is all your fault, Anne Boleyn," he replied cheekily. "I had thought the rose would be a romantic little touch for our night but you provided me with a more personal idea today."

He turned the little package for her to see now. It was a black feather pen with a gold tip. Wyatt took it out of its cardboard and cellophane case.

"It's not an actual quill, unfortunately, but then we're not two lovers in Renaissance era, either," he smiled.

The pen was quite clearly not very expensive and most likely it wouldn't last long. One could write a letter or two with it before the ink ran out. But it would do just fine for the purposes he intended it, and that was to write a poem on her back using the soft end of it.

Anne enjoyed roses, but she felt that roses were so typical of any woman who loved romance. Besides, she had always been in love with the lilies outside the palace of Versailles. White lily, tiger lily, spider lily - Anne loved them all. She was known for wearing red spider lilies in her hair on special occasions like weddings. But Thomas of course had no way of knowing this.

When he produced the package, Anne tilted her head - too big for a ring, and not shaped quite right for a necklace or bracelet. When he opened it for her to see the contents, Anne had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

It suited him. A black feather pen for her poet. It wasn't what she had expected at all, but it suited him so perfectly.

"It's lovely, Thomas," Anne smiled, chuckling slightly. "And it's so totally you. But I'm curious - how is this pen a romantic touch?" She wasn't sure what he had in mind to do with it.

((ooc: Just in case you did forget, they talked about this earlier in the day: http://happyfalcon.dreamwidth.org/3564.html?thread=227820#cmt227820 ))

"Mademoiselle, I am wounded!" Wyatt feigned hurt, grumbling softly. "Have I spoiled you so thoroughly that you can't remember your own words from this morning?"

He touched her cheek with the feather and let it ghost down her arm. Smiling, he looked up to see what she thought of it.

"If you allow, I wish to compose a poem on your back."

((ooc: Thanks for the reminder, it did indeed slip my mind!))

They had done so much already that day alone, Anne had almost completely forgotten the suggestion she herself had made. When Thomas reminded her of her own words, Anne blushed and began to laugh.

"Forgive me, my darling!" she brought her hands up to frame his face as she leaned in to kiss him. "It has indeed been an eventful day. This morning seems like it was so long ago."

She giggled when he teased her arm with the feather. Her teeth pinched her lower lip as she kept close, her hot breath upon his lips. "Yes...first things first," she pushed her hair aside as she turned her back to him. "My poet needs his canvas. Help me undress?"

Wyatt shifted on the bed and started slowly unzipping that purple dress he'd helped her got on a few hours earlier.

"You are forgiven, my darling. I'm not sorry this came as a surprise to you. Better this way than for you to also have noticed these pens and bought one for me."

Wyatt pushed the dress off of her shoulders and kissed the base of her neck. Next in turn was the hook of her bra which he had no trouble with. Wyatt let Anne remove that garment herself while he loosened his own tie.

"I'm not quite sure how to do this," he admitted. "Should I get undressed, too?"

Anne smiled at his words, finding her heart beating faster in her chest. She was excited! This was such a romantic gesture, yet another secret act they could share together. Anne stood up once he'd unzipped her dress and unclipped her bra. While she let the purple dress fall to the floor and pool at her feet, Anne kept her dress pulled up to her chest, covering her breasts. Not that she was afraid to show herself to him, but rather she wanted to tease him just a little more.

"Hmmm..." she considered his question before playfully reaching down with one free hand to tug his tie completely loose and free of his collar. "I think you should be as you usually are when you're writing. Often enough times I've found you with your tie askew and your shirt partially unbuttoned. Whatever jogs your creativity best."

Anne gave him a playful wink before she stepped towards the fireplace. It was artificial, but it looked very much like the real thing. Anne pushed a button on the mantle to turn it on, and then laid down on the carpet before the fireplace. She tossed her bra away before crossing her arms beneath her chin and smiling up at him. "Whenever my poet is ready."

"I like that," he grinned and followed Anne with his eyes. Seeing her in just panties made fiery little sparks run down his spine. Wyatt chuckled and tousled his hair. That was definitely the usual for him when he was writing but he had not realized it before meeting Anne. He'd learned to like it when she combed her fingers through his hair.

"And if you like this..." he added and undid top buttons of his shirt and pulled out the belt through the loops in his trousers. It would be more comfortable without it.

Wyatt grabbed pillows from the bed, just in case, and stepped to sit on the floor next to her. "Such a pretty canvas. I hope this isn't too ticklish for you."

He kissed the feather before brushing it softly across her back.

Anne smiled, biting her lower lip and wiggling her rear slightly to entice him further. "I will try to hold still so as not to disturb the artist."

She held still and rested her head on her hands. When he brushed the feather over her back, Anne did giggle softly. Her body wiggled a little from her laughing.

"Mmm...I like it," she whispered. "It feels better than I thought it might."

Anne found herself anxious to feel how it would feel to have him write upon her back. Anxious for the words he would craft for her.

((ooc: I decided that since modern day Anne and Thomas are happier and more free than their historical counterparts, the poems I use can be a bit darker. They are not meant to represent his feelings quite the same way as in other threads. If he recites a poem about unrequited love, he doesn't mean to imply Anne doesn't love him.))

Wyatt shifted an inch closer, leaning his free hand on the carpet. He placed the pen over her rear for a brief moment so that he could metaphorically sweep clean Anne's back with his hand. In truth it was more like a fleeting caress. He traced the line of her spine and leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

"Hmm, a sonnet might be a good choice. I've been practising them recently, and they are not too long, this being our first try and all. I hope you like it."

Anne had said they should do this as if he was writing in her home. He always made sure to take a deep breath and concentrate well. So he did that now and took the feather pen in his hand.

Wyatt recited each word slowly and clearly, partly because he was simultanously writing them on her but also because he wanted the poem to truly sink into Anne's mind. It would have been way too slow, not to mention useless, to write each word just as it was, and therefore he opted to form only the first letters for many of them.

"Love and fortune and my mind, rememberer
Of that that is now, with that that hath been,
Do torment me so that I very often
Envy them beyond all measure.
Love slayeth mine heart; fortune is depriver
Of all my comfort; the foolish mind then
Burneth and plaineth, as one that seldom
Liveth in rest, still in displeasure.
My pleasant days they fleet away and pass,
But daily yet the ill doth change into the worse,
And more than the half is run of my course.
Alas, not of steel, but of brickle glass,
I see that from mine hand falleth my trust,
And all my thoughts are dashèd into dust."

He was quite happy with the result; the invisible poem on her back. It seemed to hung in the air between them and make him quiet and grateful.

((ooc: Works for me!))

Anne smiled as he brushed off her back. She sighed and closed her eyes so that she could bask in the sounds and sensation of Thomas' composing.

"A sonnet sounds lovely," she replied softly, recalling the sonnets of Milton and Shakespeare. She loved them, so she was curious how it would be to hear his sonnets.

Anne hung on every word, lying perfectly still while the quill moved over her skin. Her eyes were closed, she could have fallen asleep to the sound of his voice. When he finished, Anne chuckled and looked up to him, her dark eyes flashing. But otherwise she didn't move.

"So heavy-hearted my love," she chuckled. "But beautiful all the same."

He had been nervous of the feather being too ticklish for Anne, but she seemed to remain relaxed and concentrated throughout the experience. For Wyatt it had been just as meditative. Half-naked though she was before him, writing on her had felt intimate but not exactly sexual.

Wyatt smiled and stretched out on the floor beside her, his face close to hers.

"Thank you, my dear. You were the most perfect parchment to scribble on." Gently he run his hand up and down her arm. "I like being heavy-hearted in my poems. If I can pour down worries on a paper, I don't need to burden my loved ones with them so often."

Anne looked up to him as he lay beside her. She smiled and brought a few fingers up to draw along his jaw. "Glad to have been of service."

She listened as he explained his thought process behind his poetry. Anne smiled and nodded slowly. "Understandable. Even if it is heavy, I love your poetry. It's touching. And everyone has felt the feelings you express in your poetry, so I think a great deal of people would feel at ease reading it."

Her hand came up to cup his jaw, smiling up to him. "And you're hardly a burden, my darling. You should not feel the need to keep your heavier feelings bottled up. I would hope that you would feel open enough to tell me even when you're unhappy. Though I wish that you would not feel unhappy often."

She wanted him to always be happy with her.

"I am not. More often I'm happy than unhappy nowadays and I promise I won't keep important things from you. But as you understand already, my hope is to let others feel through my poetry as well, so that if they have no other means of expressing themselves, they find the cure in these lines."

As he spoke Wyatt let his hand travel down her smooth skin and stop at the rising curve of her rear. Grinning slighty, he brought his face just inches away from hers so that despite of her holding his jaw, he could give her nose a quick kiss.

"That was fun, using the feather and I wouldn't mind writing on you again on another time but touching you like this... it's definitely better."

His fingertips slipped under the waistband of her panties.

Anne smiled and nuzzled him gently. "I am glad to hear it. I don't like to see you unhappy, even if there's nothing I can do, I wish to see you happy and excited always. But your poetry is indeed touching and relateable. There is no one who wouldn't find comfort and familiarity with it."

When his fingers trailed down her body Anne let out a soft little giggle. She giggled similarly when he kissed the tip of her nose.

"I enjoyed being your canvas, you may compose upon me whenever the mood strikes you, my love," she smiled as he continued to move his fingers lower.

When they found the waistband of her panties, Anne laughed and bit her lower lip. "And just what are you up to now, my dearest most talented poet?"

"Whenever my mood strikes me? My oh my, you're sailing on dangerous waters, miss Anne," Wyatt teased. "I will hold you on that promise."

He had intended to move his hand lower still, for he could not resist feeling her slim waist and round backside, but there was nothing worse than being predictable. Eyes twinkling he slowly pulled back his hand and silently undid the rest of the buttons on his shirt.

"You know what would make me happy right now? If you could massage my shoulders for a bit."

He turned to lie down on his stomach, to mimic her position, though he was going to very obligingly move his arms for Anne to help him get the shirt off completely first.

Anne laughed and glanced up to wink at him. When he made his suggestion, she moved up as he laid down. Anne straddled him slowly, carefully resting her hands over his back. She reached up and pulled down his shirt, moving his arms as necessary to remove the garment.

Her fingers moved along his lower back, even though he had asked for just a shoulder rub. She moved her fingers up along his spine, and pressed her thumbs gently along the ridge of his back. When she came to his shoulders, Anne rubbed four fingers along the front side of his shoulders, then her thumbs into the back side of his shoulders. She rubbed slowly, massaging her fingers along his skin and working all the knots out of his muscles.

"You seem so tense," she whispered, reaching up to pull her hair out of her way, and setting it across one shoulder.

Her fingers continued their work, rubbing along his shoulders and moving to press her palms against his shoulder blades. She rubbed slow circles along his back for a few minutes before returning to pressing her fingers along his shoulders and collarbone.

With arms crossed underneath his head, Wyatt closed his eyes and readied himself for Anne's touch. Lying on the floor wasn't the best place for getting a massage but he didn't expect her to do a professional job of it. He only wished for a nice little shoulder rub. And anyway, a professional wouldn't sit on his back, half-naked.

"But you're helping me. Thank you," he gratefully replied. "I didn't realize it before, 'cause I was so excited for this trip." He took a deep breath in order to relax his muscles under her fingers.

"I had so much to do before we left. Too much, but I had to get them done. Didn't wan't your father start calling after me." He'd spent long hours in front of his laptop, working on manuscripts that needed to be translated and also on articles for the Boleyn paper. Forgetting exercise had made it even worse.

"Thank you, my love. That feels good."

Edited 2016-10-22 21:04 (UTC)

Anne continued working over his tight muscles with her deft fingers. Slowly, sternly, she rubbed the tension out until it melted away. His skin was rather red from the constant rubbing, but she hadn't rubbed so hard as to cause him pain. When she noticed that the tension had melted out of his body, Anne slowed and softened her movements, until she leaned down to kiss over his nape.

"Mmmm, he works you so hard. A shame you're only part time," she whispered, letting her lips brush over his skin. But then, if he were full time, her father might become suspicious.

Anne chuckled and ran a single finger along his spine. "I suppose I didn't help, calling you down to the archives the other day, before we left, hmm?"

Her father had actually read her the riot act on that day. Not because he'd known what she was doing, but because she'd missed an important call on a lead while she was away from her desk in the archives. Luckily George had gotten the call back and took care of it, so her father didn't stay angry for long.

Again her long hair came down to brush over his back as she trailed kisses down his spine. "Anytime, my dearest poet."

"Oh, but that did help. The archives are a hell of a place to relax. Especially the economics section." Wyatt laughed, if somewhat constrained with her on top and working on his back but nevertheless he did manage a chuckle at that memory.

Those kisses made him sigh with pleasure. Wyatt moved his right arm from under his head to caress Anne's thigh. He couldn't really see her but now that she was done massaging him, her touch felt a lot more sensual than just a moment ago. Likewise he became very aware of his own body; being held down against the carpet and the subtle movement of Anne's hips were building up a heat in him.

"I seem to be your captive... Will you let me turn around and see your pretty face?"

Anne chuckled and gave his shoulder a light swat to chide him for his teasing. At his request she paused and nipped playfully at his skin. "Always." She smiled as she moved up, lifting her body so that he was free to move as he liked.

Anne would wait for him to move, to turn beneath her to look up at her before she lowered herself back down again. Settling her body over his, letting her bare thighs squeeze softly against his sides, letting him get an unobstructed view of her soft breasts.

"Tell me, how like you this?" She purred, dark eyes heavy lidded as she looked down to him.

As soon as Wyatt was lying on his back, he took hold of Anne's wrists in order to bend her arms behind her back. If he was her captive, so must she be of his. No chance for her to hide those alluring breasts with their pink nipples.

"Hmm-mm, like a cat licking cream. That's how much."

Grinning, Wyatt licked his own lips as his eyes wandered across Anne's curves. He rolled his hips up, creating friction between their private parts.

"Touch yourself," he asked and let loose of her right arm.

Anne yelped in surprise when he took hold of her wrists, but laughed when he held her so captive. She smiled down to him as he answered, and let his eyes roam over her bared chest. The command was met with a playful tilt of her brow and a knowing smile. Anne brought her right arm about when he let it loose, bringing a single finger to brush and pull slightly at her lower lip.

One finger disappeared between her lips. Then a second.

Anne brought both fingers from between her lips and slowly brought them down. Her middle finger grazed over her pink nipple, pressing slightly against it, making her bite her lower lip.

Further south her fingers traveled, coming to the fabric of her panties and sliding beneath it. Slowly. Teasingly. Letting him watch and savor the movement. Both fingers ventured between her folds, up at the top where her clit lay. A steady circling of her index finger, then a slow, stroking motion of her middle finger made Anne blush and her head tilt back slightly, sighing in delight at the tinging sensation that began to blaze in her core.

He did watch, very intently. The fact alone that she so easily accepted his dare was an instant turn-on and put the silliest smile on Wyatt's lips. At first he watched only the dance of Anne's fingers on her body, captivated but still managing to act nonchalant about it. When she opened her mouth for that satisfied little sigh, Wyatt's expression changed from cheeky to salacious, and he turned to look at her face instead.

Anne certainly wasn't shy in bed and she let him touch her in million different ways but Wyatt had never seen her pleasuring herself. Watching the changing expressions on her face was at least as rousing as witnessing her fingers' movements beneath the thin fabric of her panties.

So his breathing got heavy, his chest started to heave and he couldn't help but let go off Anne's left hand in order to slide his hands inside those panties at her backside. He pushed them down as far as he could.

"I'd do the same to myself if you weren't sitting on me," he smirked and bucked up his hips again. "Not that I'm complaining..."

When he released her left hand, Anne smiled and leaned back a bit. He raised a valid point. "Very well," she bit her lower lip when he bucked his hips up.

For a moment she just reveled in the feeling of his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of her panties. Then she balanced herself back on her left hand, her right continuing to touch herself so intimately. She moved back, settling her rear more between his thighs so that he could move easier.

"How's that?" She had wondered on occasion, those nights when he couldn't come see her or spend the whole night, if he was thinking of her and how he might pleasure himself while doing so. She wondered how he would touch himself in turn.

All the while, her own fingers continued stroking along her entrance and her slick folds, circling around her sensitive clit.

His eyebrows shot up. "Better." It wasn't exactly easy not to touch her now, to feel the wet heat in her. His groins were definitely burning.

But he had suggested this, so he had to restrain. Wyatt's hands slid along Anne's thighs, crossed over to his own and stopped at the zipper of his trousers. "Like opening a Christmas present in the middle of the summer, uh?" he winked.

The button came undone first, then the zipper. The state of his arousal was obvious already. Wyatt hooked his thumbs under the waistline of his underwear to lower it just enough; as soon as he did, his cock popped out on display.

He let Anne to watch and wait before closing a hand around his length. For sure he always imagined her to be with him when he jerked off but it was not done with this much precision. Often he did it while showering since it made him think of their first time together, at the office retreat.

Smiling faintly Wyatt rubbed the tip of his cock, his eyes directed at Anne. "I think I love you." Then he began dragging his fingers up and down and squeezing himself hard.

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