"Sar—Sarah Jane..."
It became overwhelming, the intimacy, her nearness, and then he couldn't control the desire wrecking havoc inside his body. Anthony tried to pry her away but she was strong, she was embracing him, healing him in ways he couldn't have imagined that another person's presence could.
And with lightning speed, he took her face and ravished her mouth with a searing kiss, squeezing, exploring, and pleading her for more. He was lost in her, spinning in a crazed desire to keep her there to heal him anew.
And she was kissing him too.
Her hands were on his back, pulling him closer to her while he tugged the pins out of her hair. He was all over her, on her brow, her temple, her nose... he was showering her with kisses as if he knew that if he let go, she would disappear.
He was drowning in her.
It was probably a dream, and if it was so, he'd rather enjoy it while it lasted.
Sarah Jane recognized that there was a line crossed when he joined her in her bed. They should stop now if she wanted to get out of the room untouched.
But she couldn't bring herself to stop him when his kisses were sharing his pain, inviting him to take comfort in her.
His hands and lips were doing lovely things to her body that a swell of heat started to form in the pit of her stomach. She might have been gripping him too tightly; his clothes will be beyond repair, but if he found this the least bit important, he had given no indication.
He kissed her everywhere, down her neck, on her face, then towards the middle of her throat to the space in-between her breasts. Her clothes opened without a single bit of resistance. She hadn't even realized that the bodice of her gown already dipped low enough to give him access to her breasts.
He lapped at the skin slowly, gently peeling the fabric as he imbedded his hips in her skirts. His tongue did a wicked dance across her skin, sending frantic sexual messages down to her toes.
She gave a low moan and wondered if the sound really came from her. There must be a wanton living under her skin.
"Anthony," she breathed as his lips slid lower, traveling between her breasts and circling under one plump lump of flesh, dragging his tongue under it, on the thin skin that separated the mound from her ribs. He kissed the crook apart, testing the weight of her breast on his cheek as his palm pressed her exquisitely, his fingers grazing the areola, which spread the heat to the apex of her thighs.
Her back arched involuntarily and her hands gripped his hair in anticipation.
He kissed her slowly but hungrily. Little by little inching into the pillows of flesh and resting at the rosy tip of her breasts.
Languidly, he let his tongue roll over, around the nipple, and captured it with a full force that her legs shook from the sheer sensation.
She had called his name again, but he didn't appear to hear it.
He sucked on her relentlessly, causing her thighs to tighten in response.
They would have to marry.
No one could feel this sort of thing without being branded a fallen woman. She did feel as though she were falling.
His lips memorized every inch of what it touched—and it was everywhere. His Sarah Jane had responded to every moment; he'd be damned if he stopped now. She felt a bit of tugging at her skirts, his large hands caressed the sensitive skin of her legs, roaming freely and pausing only to squeeze.
Anthony was all over her, gripping her thighs as his own legs clamped her securely between him. He tightened his knees in its seductive cage, extracting a womanly sound from her as the clamp enclosed her within his confines. He dreamed of this moment in many different ways, and now he was here, holding her under him with every muscle poised to take her.
He was in pain, but not from thoughts of Lady Edward or Sarah Jane's rejection. He was feeling physical pain from the strain in his breeches. She didn't seem to be rejecting him now.
He would be taking her tonight.
His eyes shot open from the realization.
He saw her then. She was a picture of pure rapture, her brows furrowed in concentration, her teeth biting back her lower lip, and her neck stretched so high up that its skin and veins beseeched his attention.
He kissed her, trailing up the soft, smooth flesh, giving her open-mouthed kisses, as he slowly trekked to the tip of the earlobe and captured it between his teeth.
She moaned and allowed her legs to twist around his hips.
"We'll have to marry." He whispered while he pressed on her earlobe, his hand rubbing on her swelling nipples. "You have to marry me now. Do you feel this?"
She didn't appear to hear, mumbling incoherent sounds and sighing in pleasure.
He kissed her full on the mouth, allowing the tongue a gentle sweep across the lips to taste her exquisite flavor. "Marry me?" He said and moved to the other ear. "We must," he said before nibbling on her jaw.
He stopped, his mouth releasing her, his hands stilling, to wait for her reply.
Breathing in pants, Sarah Jane's eyes shot open and looked at the man whose head was still buried in the crook of her neck.
"Why did you stop?"
"I said we'll have to marry." His lips moving into a smile against her skin, his words buried in her hair.
"Didn't I say yes?"
He blinked, his lashes ticking her skin.
No, if she did, he could have heard it. He blinked repeatedly to recall if she had indeed said something.
"I swear I said yes. I was screaming."
"I would love to hear it."
"Yes." She said softly and gripped his shoulders tightly.
He smiled and resumed kissing her jaw.
"Again," he teased, dipping below the shoulder to the rising peaks beneath him. He could feel it begging for attention even under his linen shirt.
"Yes." She said a bit louder, her voice husky from desire.
Her back arched, offering herself to him as he pushed her thick mass of clothes below her ribs. "Yes, yes, yes, yes!" She trembled as his closed mouth touched the tip of her hardened nipple for a smacking kiss.
She jerked in surprise, and Anthony continued to suck and torment her to pleasures, swirling his tongue and kissing each of her nipples in a daze. He continued his passionate onslaught to the rest of her body, his lips exploring expertly as his hands squeezed and dragged and teased until they were both stiff from anticipation. He had to take her now, he realized, or he would expire from the hardness.
But a flashing thought of how he was supposed to give her a better wedding night, preferably on his four-poster bed in Kinsmen Place, and married to him, alarmed him.
If he let her go now, what would stop her from jilting him if she found someone better?
Suddenly, her skirts were up, and his breeches were torn apart by the second. His hands gripped the roundness of her bottom as he positioned himself towards the opening of her crest.
She made no refusal, but she held her breath.
"Sarah Jane?" He called her.
He can't do this without her permission. It was already bad enough that he had to take her to secure her hand, but he can't take something when she was too far gone to decide to allow him to do it.
Again with the muteness, she didn't respond, her brows furrowing in concentration.
"Sarah Jane?" He called again, swallowing as he waited and hoped that it won't take long for her to decide. The wait was killing him; he was still straining, hot and hard at her entrance. "Sarah?"
Her eyes fluttered open sleepily, "Yes?"
"I will take you now." He said then realized that it wasn't a question. "I... Can I?"
Please. His mind wanted to add but instead kept silent.
She hesitated a bit and chewed on her lip. "We seem to be in the position to do so." She replied shyly, nodding for him.
It was true. He was already in the position to charge, and it seemed like a pointless decision to ask.
He swallowed hard, his hips inching slightly, the tip of his member touching the hot moist folds.
"How much is it going to hurt?" She asked so softly that she might have thought that he wouldn't hear her.
But he heard her.
That was it. He couldn't do this. He was so desolate on his own needs that he would have pushed through without asking, and he would have pushed through for all the wrong reasons.
Anthony didn't want to take her to trap her into a marriage with him. She deserves the choices and he deserves to be fully and consciously be chosen.
If she was to be his wife, she deserved a better first time than this.
He let go of her bottom and kneeled impassively in front of her open legs. Sarah Jane immediately sat upright, closing him between her legs, and gently reached for his hands.
"Did I ruin it?" She said so heart-achingly sweet that it made Anthony sure that he made the right decision. She deserved better than him.
"I'm so sorry, Anthony. I'm very inexperienced with this..." She took his hand and placed it on her leg, rubbing it on her warm skin, asking him to continue.
"Stop, please." Snatching his hand away from her leg as if burned by the contact.
His erection was already too much to bear. It was amazing that he was still kneeling there like a fool. His eyes snapped up to see her reaction and saw that rejection had washed upon her.
He took her hands in his, "Sarah Jane, you must understand. I don't want to take you this way."
She looked up at him with hopeful eyes. "Could you continue?" She hesitated then added, "I was enjoying your attentions very much."
He kissed her on the lips gently, making sweet sounds of light-hearted passion. "I have to marry you first." He shuddered at the contact of their lips. "Oh god, how I want you."
"I think I want you too."
He shook his head, "Not now."
She took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply. "Anthony," she whispered, giving him the kisses he had showered upon her earlier.
She kissed his lips, his cheeks, his eyes, and his nose. All the while, her hands dropped down to his chest, scooping low, lower than he could have possibly imagined, and then barely a feather apart, her finger grazed the tip.
He growled and captured her lips with a renewed passion. "Not now." He repeated, taking her hand away and crushed her body to his in their upright position.
His fingers dug their way into the plush cushion of her bottom as he pressed her sex to his, folding his erection over his belly. This was all he was going to get tonight.
His fingers groped her body, circling from her bottom to the bone of her pelvis, his hand lowered to that sacred thatch of womanhood, and cupped her.
She gasped, barely comprehending what was happening. Her head dropped to the crook of his neck and her hands flailed to his arms.
Tended shoulder muscles twitched beneath her fingers. She squeezed them hard, nails digging at his skin, as his fingers proceeded to do very wicked things to her. One of them had inserted itself between her thighs, caressing her nether lips with an expert flick.
Carefully, she felt his other hand spread her legs, and he slid himself under her as she kneeled before him. "Hold this." He whispered, pushing a bunch of skirts to her waist. One of her hands was on his right shoulder for support, and the other hand wantonly exposed herself to his ministrations.
Anthony's legs were casually folded as if he was poised to read a book. He sat comfortably as Sarah Jane's thighs rested on his, elevating her as he toyed her with his fingers.
She bended towards him, depended on his weight as he inched her closer to oblivion. His fingers and her position was an equation for trouble, and she felt very hot and prickly with every stroke.
With gritted teeth and a ragged indrawn-breath, he slid his finger in her slick heat and touched the most sensitive nub of flesh with his thumb. The moisture made strange sucking sounds that released another shudder from him. He inserted another finger, pulling out and pressing inside with an aching slowness that caused her to mewl like an animal.
Gasping for air, Sarah Jane's arms gripped his shoulders tightly as her hips were forcefully lifted from the bed, sheathing his fingers further in her. She whimpered, and he swallowed her moans, invading her mouth with his relentless tongue.
She felt as if she was floating, flying, and reaching a peak that was sure to cause her untimely demise.
And then he had trapped her there and pulled her back to earth with each breath after staggering breath that she was sure she could not take any more after experiencing such exquisite torture.
Just when she was about to tell Anthony to stop, she tensed, finally reaching the apex of an unknown world. She cracked from the pressure, a small sound almost strangling her throat as she shuddered hard against his hand.
Suddenly, the air became too dense to move.
He stilled at the sight of her swollen lips and heavy breathing. She had been amazing to watch. He knew that he could pleasure her so, but seeing it happen was an experience he was going to treasure until his last breath.
If only he could do something about his raging erection, then this moment would be one for history. Maybe even alongside the triumph at Waterloo.
Anthony shifted, releasing her from his grip and moved to lay her on the bed so that he could stand. But Sarah Jane wouldn't release him.
"Sarah Jane?" He smiled, knowing she was still enjoying the last strands of her release. He tried to pry her hands away from him but she didn't budge.
Worried, he called her again. "Sarah?"
Her eyes opened as her hands moved to his chest and pushed him to lay his back flat against the headboard of her bed. "Let me do that to you." She whispered.
His eyes widened, "I don't think that's a good idea." But it might be a pretty good idea, if only he was in a better control of himself.
"I must be able to do that to you as well. It is only fair." She said, her hands dipping lower and reached for his manhood.
His hand swiftly snatched her hands to stop her.
"Please, Anthony. I want to give you the same feeling." She said, pushing further as his hands were barely holding them down.
He was breathing heavily; he didn't know how much refusal he could muster before he would finally give in to her request. He wanted it, and she wanted it, there seems to be nothing else he could do about it.
She settled on the shaft, letting her fingers drag against the sensitive skin. She used one hand tentatively, circling the member in her palms, sliding it when it pleased her. His face contorted in exquisite pain, his breath coming in hurried pants as he settled to grip the bed lest he hurt her with the extent of his strength.
Anthony dragged a rough breath through his lips, he couldn't last a few more seconds of this pleasurable torture. "Sarah—wait..."
She moved it up then slid it down so quickly that he sank further into the pillows as the tip spurted some fresh hot liquid. Sarah Jane looked at it curiously, thinking that it very much looked like melted candle wax. She slid against the silky skin a few more times, slowly and gripping lightly as she concentrated on Anthony's reaction with her every movement.
Then there was a rap at her door.
Startled by the sound, Sarah Jane accidentally squeezed the member tightly in a swift downward motion, which ultimately released Anthony from his misery, plummeting him into heights that he had never experienced on his own.
His breath was low and his grunts were silent, but the evidence of his pleasure had been adamant to be seen.
Out of his muddled brain, as Sarah Jane came into focus, he saw her sitting stiffly under a ruffled mess of petticoats and skirts, along with...
He froze.
"Oh dear god." He shuffled quickly and covered himself as Sarah Jane sat silently on the bed. "I'm so sorry." He said while he tried to arrange her dress and skirts in the way it used to be. The effort was futile.
The evidence stuck to her like wax.
He winced at the comparison.
"Are you well? I didn't mean to... Oh god." He swore under his breath as he tried to clean up his mess. He had no idea how to do that, however.
The knock was repeated followed by the sound of Mathilda's voice. "Child, are you all right?"
"Please leave!" Anthony bellowed, staring at his mess.
"Lady Sarah Jane?" Mathilda persisted, knocking on the door again.
"Leave!" Sarah Jane shouted, dragging her attention back to the wet part of her skirts. "How curious," muttering as she took her fingers to the sticky liquid.
"What did you say?"
"I was thinking of how it looks like melted wax." She said and looked up at him. "From the candle?"
Anthony was so worried that Sarah Jane might go into a fit of hysterics when he had accidentally showered her in his pleasure. But he forgot that Sarah Jane wasn't an ordinary lady, she was special and especially odd.
And most importantly, she was his. Only his.
The mere thought wanted Anthony to lay her back on the bed, and take her in ten different ways.
He laughed loudly, probably causing Mathilda to go berserk behind her door.
Anthony decided that they would not be leaving the room tonight. Their engagement would cause enough talk as it is, he would not want her to be shamed by his mother, Lady Huntington, or any of the house help, by seeing the evidence of their short engagement.
———
A/N: Hello! Apologies for the late update but I hope it was well worth the wait! I've spent so much time on this chapter to flesh out (pun unintended) all the emotions and thoughts! I also hope you enjoyed the funny ending to this chapter :)
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