Ariella sat patiently in Callan's chambers, awaiting his return from the Royal Council meeting. She absentmindedly picked at the lace embroidery on her gown as she eyed one of the biscuits that sat on a tray before her. Her stomach grumbled beneath her corset.
Just then, the door swung open to reveal Cal, his hair a disheveled mess from perhaps running his hand through it one too many times. He unbuttoned his over jacket and threw it on the back of one of the sofas, seemingly unaware of Ariella's presence in the room. He quickly walked out of the parlor to sit at his desk in the next chamber, where he pulled out a few documents. He began flipping through them haphazardly, barely paying attention until he found the one he was looking for. He held it to the sunlight, squinting at the small print.
"Perhaps you might be needing these." Said Ariella, handing him his spectacles with a small smile.
He nearly jumped out of his chair, "Have mercy, woman! You nearly scared me half to death!"
She giggled, walking around the desk to wrap her arms around his shoulders, "Why so tense, love?"
He quickly placed the document on the desk face down so she couldn't see what was written upon it, "Merely the council meeting, there was something that was mentioned that took me off guard."
"Might I ask what that was?" She asked softly, placing a kiss on his cheek.
He relaxed his tense shoulders beneath her arms, "I'll tell you once I've figured a few details out. But, for now, we have nothing to worry about."
Her eyebrows furrowed worriedly as she removed her arms from around him, beginning to pace behind his back.
"Darling, I would tell you if it was anything important," he said after a moment, catching her hand to stop her pacing. He pulled her close to him so that she rested on his lap, "Now, what is it you wanted to discuss with me?"
She sighed, her worried expression settling into a soft smile, "Well, I wanted to discuss our new living arrangements."
He rubbed her back soothingly, "Yes, I do believe we should."
"I'd hoped we would share chambers." She smirked, tracing his stubbly cheek with her thumb, "But I don't want to cause any disruption for anyone."
"I assumed we would move into my parent's joint chambers--obviously rearranging a few decorative aspects."
She giggled, "I think that would be lovely," she kissed him softly on the lips, "Thank you."
"You have nothing to thank me for," he whispered against her lips.
She tugged on the collar of his shirt and began to unbutton his waistcoat. He smiled, realizing her intentions. He lifted his hand under her skirt, tracing his hand along her thigh. He unlaced her ribbon garter and pushed her stocking down to her ankle, continuing to do the same on the other leg.
"It's wonderful," she breathed, gasping between his kisses, "Now, I may have you whenever I wish."
He chuckled a low, seductive laugh, picking her up and walking her through several chambers to rest her on the large bed in the last chamber. He climbed on top of her, bringing her skirts up with him while unbuckling his breeches.
She giggled, "My Lord, you're quite scandalous, to think if someone were to enter."
"If anyone," he started just as he'd entered her, breathing hard, "Were to disrupt me now," he began moving faster, "I think I would have to challenge them to a duel for indecent interruption."
She sighed pleasurably, pushing his chemise down to kiss his shoulder, "Is that a probable cause for duel?"
"I just made it one," he laughed darkly, falling over onto his back and lifting her on top of him.
She arched her back as she moved against him. He pulled her by the wrists so she was leaning over him and began to kiss her, sliding his hands down to her hips where he held her tightly. They moved together for what seemed like hours, but it could've been merely minutes, for neither of them much cared.
She eventually began breathing harder, gasping for breath as he moved faster and faster against her, until a tingling sensation fell over her body and through her legs. She moaned in satisfaction as a warmth spread through the inside of her body, gaining a pleasurable sigh from Cal who lay beneath her.
She smiled, satisfied as she fell off of him, landing beside him on the bed.
"Now that is something I could most definitely get used to," he laughed, placing her hand within his own.
"Mmm," she agreed, lifting his hand and placing it against her lips.
They lay there for a few moments, before Cal finally picked himself up to stand beside the bed.
"I should go and attend to a few things," he said unenthusiastically, "I will of course see you tonight at the festivities?"
She sat up to sit on the foot of the bed, "But of course."
He smiled softly, admiring her as he rearranged himself.
She noticed his strangely amused expression as he watched her, "What is it?" She asked, reaching down to pull up her stockings.
He shrugged, lifting an eyebrow mischievously before he turned to walk away from her.
She scrunched her noise in annoyance as she retied her garters. She then stood up and walked to the mirror, startling herself as she took in her appearance. Her hair had fallen rather inelegantly from the intricately braided coiffure that Mae had set earlier that day and sweat had begun to bead on her forehead, collarbone and neck, along with two red marks on her skin just below her jawline.
"Callan?" She called, straightening her gown as she walked towards the parlor, "What is this blemish?" She pointed to her neck.
He shrugged as he had before, hiding the smirk that rested on his lips as he turned to pull his arms into his over jacket.
"This wasn't here before--" she walked around to face him, noticing his mischievous smile, "You did this!"
She squinted angrily, "How do you expect me to cover this?"
"You're quite lovely when you're angry with me, mon amour," he chuckled, walking to the door.
"Don't you dare leave me now, Callan," she bellowed, but dropped her voice as he opened the door, smirking before he turned and left.
She let out an annoyed sigh, wondering how she was to explain the strange blemish to Mae as she grabbed her shawl from the armchair. And as she walked out she grabbed the scone from the breakfast tray laying on the table, smiling contently as she took a bite.
YOU ARE READING
~Watty's 2018 Longlist~Previously featured on Wattpad Picks~ Mademoiselle Ariella du Montamorte is the most unladylike lady that ever graced the court. She is trapped in the debutante season in the hopes of finding an unwanted match, but her reckles...