Madeline: FakingMature

Days went by, but the feeling of Brink's body against me did not fade away. I could remember every second of it, the way he kissed and touched and moved through me. Oh, how I craved to feel him again. To clutch him in the shadows and feel his hot breath against my neck.

"Madeline."

The sound of my name brought me back to reality. A quick smile took over my lips as I refocused my attention on the man sitting across from me. The table between us was an ocean, or maybe the parlor itself was the ocean. Either way, I was drowning. The suffocation caused by my corset didnt do me any good.

"Yes?" I asked in my sweetest voice.

Tristan eyes me warily. My fiance to be. He was all things gentle and kind, loving. He would make such a wonderful husband, if only I had the sort of soul that one might tie down with marriage. I needed to be free.

"You just always seem to be a million miles away from me," he muttered, reaching out for his cup of tea. I could barely bring myself to touch mine.

Three months remained until the wedding. Until I was condemned to spend the rest of my life with Tristan, and Tristan only. I should have been ecstatic. He was quite the catch, handsome and of noble blood. But when I closed my eyes at night, I couldnt ever seem to picture him in the bed beside him.

When he set his glass back down, Tristan reached to take my hand. I let him, lacing my fingers with his own. "I cannot wait until the night I can have you," Tristan said to me lowly. His green eyes were so intense, boring into my own. I felt my breath catch a little. "Until we can share the most intimate of moments..."

My eyes fell shut a little; I swallowed hard. I wished I had the heart to tell him that it was not him, but another, who had already consumed me so. 

...

When night fell, my chamber door shut with a silent thud. I leaned against it for a minute longer than needed, let out a deep sigh. The day had dragged, as they mostly did. I hated myself for lying my way through this life. If only I had the courage to say what I truly felt...

I shook away the thoughts, started over to my bed. Mary had already helped me into my nightgown, but the summer air made the room sticky with heat. There was no hesitation in me as I yanked the simply cream fabrics over my head and let them tumble to the floor.

"Putting on a show, are we?"

I just barely managed to stifle a scream, spinning around to face the speaker. There was no way of covering myself, yet I desperately tried.

Brink stepped forth from the shadows, smirking and letting his gaze wander over my body. "I thought you might be missing me," he said nonchalantly. I tried to form words, but in the end could only stand there, feeling insignificant and unimportant in the broad scheme of things.

He closed the distance between us, taking my hands in his own and putting them at my sides. Then he pressed his clothed chest against my bare one. I couldnt stop the shiver from running through me. "I missed you too," he whispered, before lowering his face to kiss me.

It wasnt long before we'd fallen back into the bed, tangled in sheets and each other. Panting and gasping and moaning. All the while his name was upon my lips, and I was clawing at him and whimpering in pain and pleasure.

"Harder," I pleaded with him, and he fulfilled my every wish. We rose higher as one.

When all was over, and the night had returned to being still, Brink traced circles over my bare chest, the place where my heart beat dully within. I closed my eyes and breathed shallow breaths, and lay motionless at his side.

"I want to stay like this," I told him quietly. "Here, with you. Everything feels..better, somehow."

Brink said nothing, just turned his head to kiss me gently on the cheek. Before I knew it, I was fast asleep. 

The End

24 comments about this exercise Feed