Part 66: link
This is the longest walk ever. My دل is pounding. The wedding wasn’t even this stressful.
I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. Yet my feet keep advancing, one in front of the other. Towards the front. No. Towards Arthur.
Focus on Arthur. He is there, he is waiting. My love. My husband. My husband. Oh my God, it still doesn’t seem real.
Okay, kneel. Do I look up? Do I look down? Straight ahead? He looks so handsome, so… proud? Is he proud of me?
I will never get used to the way he gazes at me, the way he can make my دل pound and my knees go watery with his eyes alone.
“By the sacred laws vested in me, I crown you… Guinevere… Queen of Camelot.”
My دل is pounding. Pounding. The crown is there, heavy on my head. I will grow accustomed to its weight. I hope.
Take his hands. Stand. He looks so pleased, so content, his hands so large and warm on mine.
I know that look. He’s going to kiss me here in front of the entire kingdom. Again.
Is this normal? Oh, who cares, his lips are so inviting over mine, soft, warm, delicious.
Do not open your mouth for him. People are watching.
Arthur. That is a look I’ve only just recently learned, آپ devil.
“Long live the queen!”
“Long live the queen!”
“Long live the queen!”
“Long live the queen!”
It washes over me like a wave. My دل still pounds, but I feel a smile tugging at my lips.
Arthur stirs. Something is nagging at him.
Guinevere’s gift. I forgot to give her her gift! His eyes fly open and he looks at the clock. Six twelve. They’ve been sleeping for approximately four hours.
He looks over at his sleeping wife. She looks content, beautiful. There is a small smile on her face. It can wait. I think. Okay, it can, but I can’t. He knows he won’t sleep until he at least has it brought to the room, so he gently leaves the بستر and tiptoes out to the lounge, where he lifts the phone and punches zero.
“Hello, Mr. Pendragon, how may I help آپ this morning?” a polite female voice greets him. She is much too perky for this hour.
“Yes, I have a package being held behind the front desk. Will آپ send it up, please?”
“Of course. Someone will be up with it presently.”
“Thank you.” He hangs up the phone, then pads quietly back into the sleeping quarters to visit the loo. He puts on one of the plush bathrobes hanging in the bathroom before returning to the lounge to wait.
A short time later there is a soft knock on the door. Edward the bellman is standing there with a large box in his hands.
“You still here?” Arthur smiles at him, taking the box.
“For another hour, yes, sir,” he replies. “Good morning,” he adds with a nod before he turns to leave.
“Thanks.” Arthur closes the door and carries the package into the lounge. He opens the cardboard flaps and lifts out the wrapped gift within. This he carries back into the bedroom and places it on the vanity table.
Satisfied, he removes the روب, چغہ and climbs back into بستر beside Guinevere.
“What are آپ up to now?” she says sleepily, her eyes still closed.
“You’re awake?” he asks, thinking that maybe he can give her the present after all.
“Not really,” she cuddles into the blankets and he cannot help but scoot closer to her.
“So what were آپ doing?” she asks again.
“I thought آپ were sleeping,” he chuckles.
“I am also curious.”
“You’ll have to wake up if آپ want to know.”
She opens one eye, and he snorts a small laugh, kisses her, and gets back out of بستر to bring the present over.
“What is that?” Gwen opens both eyes and sits up, hugging the blankets around her.
“Your wedding gift. From me. I forgot all about it last night,” he smiles apologetically.
“So did I,” she laughs. Then, “Gimme.”
Laughing, he hands her the box. It is rectangular, approximately the size of a large toaster.
“What on earth could this be?” she asks. It is heavy, and that piques her curiosity even more.
She peels back the paper to discover a hardcover leather-bound set of Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, including The Hobbit. It looks old, but it is in excellent condition.
“First edition,” Arthur informs her.
“No…!” Gwen gasps. “This is amazing, Arthur. I love it. I…” she trails off, lifting one of the کتابیں from the case, running her hand across the embossed green leather with its gold-leaf printing. She inspects the spine, runs her fingertips across the jagged edges of the pages, uneven and bumpy, made before mass-production turned out perfect کتابیں with smooth-edged pages.
Carefully opening it, she smiles as she flips the crisp pages carefully, handling them as if they were delicate butterflies’ wings.
“I don’t even want to know how آپ got these,” she smiles, shaking her head. Not to mention how much آپ probably paid for them.
“I know it’s not a… conventional wedding present, but somehow I knew it was the right thing for you,” he smiles shyly at her, watching her pore over each book in turn.
“I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. It’s fantastic. The سیکنڈ best thing I’ve ever gotten.” She smiles at him.
“Second best?” he asks.
She raises her left hand, flashing her ring at him, saying, “You.” He grins broadly.
Gwen places the کتابیں back in their case and sets it on the nightstand. Arthur gathers the paper and throws it in the bin and returns to bed.
“Thank you,” she says, leaning آگے to kiss him. “Oh!” she pulls away suddenly, remembering. “I had another dream.”
“When?” Arthur asks, scooting back down into the bed. Now that he’s دیا her his gift, he is sleepy again.
Gwen settles down against him, into the crook of his arm, her hand on his chest. “Just now. Before I woke up and found آپ weren’t here.”
“What was it?” he asks, his hand stroking her back.
“Past me’s coronation as queen.”
“Cool.”
“It was nerve-wracking, actually,” she laughs.
“Really?”
“Well, think about it. I… she was a servant who was getting crowned queen. Of course it would be stressful for her. That’s a big change; a big responsibility to shoulder. Not to mention what the ‘nobles’ might be thinking of her یا saying behind her back.” She yawns, turning her face into his shoulder.
“Never thought about that. How did it go?”
“Very well, actually,” she says, furrowing her brow, trying to remember. “I remember walking up a long aisle…”
She describes the dream to him, as much as she can remember.
“They kissed? Did they do that at coronations?”
“I have no idea. But it was a good kiss. Past Arthur must have loved Past Guinevere a great deal.”
“Present Arthur loves Present Guinevere a great deal as well,” he smiles and kisses her forehead. Her eyes are closed again. “Go back to sleep,” he tells her softly.
When Arthur awakes again, he is alone in the bed. He sits up, blinking. Eight forty-four. He hears water running, so he gets up to investigate. Guinevere is brushing her teeth, wearing the other dressing gown. The fluffy white روب, چغہ is much too big for her and she looks like she is being swallowed سے طرف کی a cotton ball.
“Good morning, my love,” Arthur says, strolling in and kissing her cheek.
She spits into the sink. “Good morning, Husband,” she smiles at him. Gwen reaches for a glass and fills it with water. He watches as she reaches into a small medicine bag, pulls out a flat circular plastic case, pops a pill through a slot where it breaks through the foil and lands in her hand.
“Well, آپ won’t be needing those for much longer, eh?” Arthur asks as she swallows the pill. She turns and gives him a puzzled look.
“What?”
“Now that we’re married. آپ won’t need to take those any more.”
Gwen’s mouth opens, but she’s not sure what to say. She closes it again and turns away.
“I thought آپ wanted to have children,” he ventures. Should have kept your fool mouth closed, Arthur, he scolds himself, confused and hurt.
She turns back. “I do. Just…” she bites her lip.
“Yes?” he asks gently.
“Just not right away, Arthur.”
He sits on the edge of the tub and fidgets with the بیلٹ, پٹی of his robe.
“You’re disappointed,” she says, frowning. It is not a question; she can tell he is. She leans against the vanity and looks across at him.
“No,” he says.
“Liar.”
“Maybe a little. Mostly I’m just… surprised. I wasn’t expecting… I guess I didn’t think… I guess I thought…”
“You thought that as soon as I took your name I’d immediately want to have your children,” she says, but not unkindly.
He frowns, twisting his mouth to the side. Is that really what I thought? He is quiet for a moment. “I guess I did. Sexist point of view, I know. To automatically assume you’d want to get pregnant right away, I mean.”
“A bit. ‘Outdated’ might be a better way of putting it,” she smiles, and crosses to him, kneeling down in front of him. “Look, Arthur: We only met three months ago. آپ know how much I love you. And having your children is definitely on my فہرست of things to do, but right now I want to spend some time being us. آپ and me.” She takes his hands in hers. “We’re young, Arthur. We can afford to take the time to enjoy ourselves on our own terms, do some things that we won’t be able to do once children are in the picture. Call me greedy, but I’m not ready to share آپ yet. Not with anyone.”
He stares at her, briefly losing himself in her clear brown eyes, letting her words sink in, before speaking again. “I… never thought of it that way,” he says, stroking her hands with his thumbs.
“Trust me, love, the thought of having children with آپ makes me smile every time it comes into my head. I just want to wait.”
She sits there in front of him, waiting, giving him time. He holds her hands still in his, and he looks down at them.
She has a point. And it’s not like she doesn’t want to have children ever. I just didn’t consider the possibility that she might want to wait. He looks at her face, watching him, waiting. So patient. Wise. Generous. Kind. She’s absolutely right. I feel greedy, too.
Finally he pulls her up into his lap, and sighs. “You know, you’re right. We should take some time to be Arthur and Guinevere before we turn our lives upside down once again,” he says, smiling. “I’m not ready to share آپ yet, either,” he adds, kissing her neck.
“We can still get plenty of practice in during that time,” she grins at him. He kisses her, but she keeps her lips locked tightly together.
“After I brush my teeth,” he says, laughing.
“After آپ brush your teeth,” she agrees, standing.
“Are آپ hungry?” he asks, strolling back out into the bedroom, where Gwen has flipped on the television. She is lying on the بستر on her stomach, hugging a تکیا under her chin, feet kicked up in the air behind her.
“Yes,” she says, looking up at him, wondering what he’s got in mind. He’s got that look about him again, like he has something up his sleeve.
He crosses to the phone, picks it up and dials Room Service.
“Yes, we are ready for our breakfast now.”
“Thank you.”
He hangs up the phone.
“What was that about?” she asks, noting he didn’t give any order to them. “Did آپ arrange breakfast in advance?”
He nods smugly. “I told آپ that there were مزید surprises.”
“So I don’t get a say?”
“Not this morning,” he grins down at her.
“What?” She notices his amused expression.
“That روب, چغہ is way too big for you.”
She giggles, and shrugs. “Not much for it, I’m afraid.”
He drops on the بستر اگلے to her and rolls her onto her back, kissing her the way he wanted to a few منٹ ago, lovingly, passionately. His hand slides inside the neck of her robe, touching her skin beneath.
She turns her head to the side, “Arthur,” she manages. He simply begins nibbling her ear and ignores her.
“Arthur,” she says again, tapping him on the shoulder.
“Mmm?” he asks, his teeth grazing along the outer shell of her ear as his hand roves lower, finding her breast beneath the robe.
She gasps, falling under his spell, arching into his hand, her own hand going into his hair. “Arthur…” she moans, no longer remembering what she was going to say.
He kisses lower, nudging the روب, چغہ open with his nose, pulling at the بیلٹ, پٹی with his hand, untying it and opening it fully beneath him.
Arthur rains soft wet kisses along the side of her breast, circling his way to her waiting nipple, tormenting her سے طرف کی kissing and licking all around it. His hand is sliding along her thigh, first on the outside, then down and back up along the inside.
She whimpers in the back of her throat and he chuckles against her skin. Finally he takes the hardened nub in his mouth, flicking his tongue across it, coaxing it firmer still, مزید sensitive. His hand moves higher yet and she unconsciously parts her legs for him, encouraging him.
He touches her, warm and slick, his practiced fingers pulling forth another moan from her. He smiles against her breasts and kisses down her stomach. He slides a finger into her, then out to tease the sensitive skin there, then back in again.
“Oh…” she gasps. Arthur dips his tongue into her navel on his way down, down to his destination. He grabs a pillow, lifts her rear, and sets her on it before settling between her thighs. He plunges his tongue into her and she cries out softly at the contact, bunching the sheets in her hand.
He teases her with his tongue, flicking, stroking, driving her beyond any reason. He slides it along the length of her folds, kissing, nibbling gently, thrusting his tongue deep inside.
“Yes,” she moans, her hands in his hair, unconsciously pulling it as she grips it in her fists, her head tossing from side to side.
Arthur smiles against her as he pleasures her, his tongue on her moving slowly, then fast, ever changing and moving so she never knows what to expect next. He reaches up to take a breast in one hand while bringing the other down to slip inside her. His tongue delves inside one مزید time before he immediately replaces it with his finger, in and out as he licks at the swollen bundle of nerves nearby.
“Oh… oh…” she gasps, each one slightly louder than the اگلے as she writhes on the bed, her body warm and tingly all over, as she feels the familiar feeling of sinking and floating simultaneously start to overtake her. Arthur is unrelenting, gleefully pushing her over the edge.
Gwen bucks beneath him, shouting out and squeezing his head between her thighs as she climaxes, spent and reeling. She releases his head, her fingers loosening on his hair as he places a line of kisses along her inner thigh, grinning like a smug feline.
Arthur crawls up along her body and kisses her again, softly, and she brings her arms around his shoulders, holding on to him.
Just then there is a knock at the door and a muffled voice. “Room service.”
“Perfect timing,” Arthur says, planting one final kiss on her lips before climbing off of her.
“Ah!” she exclaims, irritated. “That’s why I was trying to stop you!”
Arthur just laughs and starts to walk to the door.
“Arthur,” she says, sitting up and closing her dressing gown.
“Hmm?”
“You may want to let me get the door, love. You’re a little… um…” she looks pointedly at the bulge beneath his robe.
“Oh. Yes. That could be awkward.”
“Plus your hair’s a mess. Sorry ’bout that,” she smiles and walks past him to the door, smoothing her hair.
There is another knock. “One moment,” Gwen calls as she approaches the door. She opens it and a woman wheels in a کی ٹوکری, رکن کی نمائندہ with two covered plates, a teapot and a cup, and a glass of milk. There is a bud vase with a lavender rose in it in the middle of the tray.
The woman moves the tray to the table, smiles at Gwen, and turns to go.
“Thank you,” Gwen says, closing the door behind her.
Arthur emerges from the bedroom, and walks to the table. “You didn’t peek, did you?” he asks.
“No. But I have an idea about what’s under these covers,” she says, grinning.
She’s too smart sometimes, he thinks, figuring that she probably knows.
He lifts the covers to unveil two egg sandwiches on bagels, just like Gwen made at the flat their first morning together.
“Yep. I knew it,” Gwen beams, leaning to kiss him.
Part 68: link
This is the longest walk ever. My دل is pounding. The wedding wasn’t even this stressful.
I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. Yet my feet keep advancing, one in front of the other. Towards the front. No. Towards Arthur.
Focus on Arthur. He is there, he is waiting. My love. My husband. My husband. Oh my God, it still doesn’t seem real.
Okay, kneel. Do I look up? Do I look down? Straight ahead? He looks so handsome, so… proud? Is he proud of me?
I will never get used to the way he gazes at me, the way he can make my دل pound and my knees go watery with his eyes alone.
“By the sacred laws vested in me, I crown you… Guinevere… Queen of Camelot.”
My دل is pounding. Pounding. The crown is there, heavy on my head. I will grow accustomed to its weight. I hope.
Take his hands. Stand. He looks so pleased, so content, his hands so large and warm on mine.
I know that look. He’s going to kiss me here in front of the entire kingdom. Again.
Is this normal? Oh, who cares, his lips are so inviting over mine, soft, warm, delicious.
Do not open your mouth for him. People are watching.
Arthur. That is a look I’ve only just recently learned, آپ devil.
“Long live the queen!”
“Long live the queen!”
“Long live the queen!”
“Long live the queen!”
It washes over me like a wave. My دل still pounds, but I feel a smile tugging at my lips.
Arthur stirs. Something is nagging at him.
Guinevere’s gift. I forgot to give her her gift! His eyes fly open and he looks at the clock. Six twelve. They’ve been sleeping for approximately four hours.
He looks over at his sleeping wife. She looks content, beautiful. There is a small smile on her face. It can wait. I think. Okay, it can, but I can’t. He knows he won’t sleep until he at least has it brought to the room, so he gently leaves the بستر and tiptoes out to the lounge, where he lifts the phone and punches zero.
“Hello, Mr. Pendragon, how may I help آپ this morning?” a polite female voice greets him. She is much too perky for this hour.
“Yes, I have a package being held behind the front desk. Will آپ send it up, please?”
“Of course. Someone will be up with it presently.”
“Thank you.” He hangs up the phone, then pads quietly back into the sleeping quarters to visit the loo. He puts on one of the plush bathrobes hanging in the bathroom before returning to the lounge to wait.
A short time later there is a soft knock on the door. Edward the bellman is standing there with a large box in his hands.
“You still here?” Arthur smiles at him, taking the box.
“For another hour, yes, sir,” he replies. “Good morning,” he adds with a nod before he turns to leave.
“Thanks.” Arthur closes the door and carries the package into the lounge. He opens the cardboard flaps and lifts out the wrapped gift within. This he carries back into the bedroom and places it on the vanity table.
Satisfied, he removes the روب, چغہ and climbs back into بستر beside Guinevere.
“What are آپ up to now?” she says sleepily, her eyes still closed.
“You’re awake?” he asks, thinking that maybe he can give her the present after all.
“Not really,” she cuddles into the blankets and he cannot help but scoot closer to her.
“So what were آپ doing?” she asks again.
“I thought آپ were sleeping,” he chuckles.
“I am also curious.”
“You’ll have to wake up if آپ want to know.”
She opens one eye, and he snorts a small laugh, kisses her, and gets back out of بستر to bring the present over.
“What is that?” Gwen opens both eyes and sits up, hugging the blankets around her.
“Your wedding gift. From me. I forgot all about it last night,” he smiles apologetically.
“So did I,” she laughs. Then, “Gimme.”
Laughing, he hands her the box. It is rectangular, approximately the size of a large toaster.
“What on earth could this be?” she asks. It is heavy, and that piques her curiosity even more.
She peels back the paper to discover a hardcover leather-bound set of Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, including The Hobbit. It looks old, but it is in excellent condition.
“First edition,” Arthur informs her.
“No…!” Gwen gasps. “This is amazing, Arthur. I love it. I…” she trails off, lifting one of the کتابیں from the case, running her hand across the embossed green leather with its gold-leaf printing. She inspects the spine, runs her fingertips across the jagged edges of the pages, uneven and bumpy, made before mass-production turned out perfect کتابیں with smooth-edged pages.
Carefully opening it, she smiles as she flips the crisp pages carefully, handling them as if they were delicate butterflies’ wings.
“I don’t even want to know how آپ got these,” she smiles, shaking her head. Not to mention how much آپ probably paid for them.
“I know it’s not a… conventional wedding present, but somehow I knew it was the right thing for you,” he smiles shyly at her, watching her pore over each book in turn.
“I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. It’s fantastic. The سیکنڈ best thing I’ve ever gotten.” She smiles at him.
“Second best?” he asks.
She raises her left hand, flashing her ring at him, saying, “You.” He grins broadly.
Gwen places the کتابیں back in their case and sets it on the nightstand. Arthur gathers the paper and throws it in the bin and returns to bed.
“Thank you,” she says, leaning آگے to kiss him. “Oh!” she pulls away suddenly, remembering. “I had another dream.”
“When?” Arthur asks, scooting back down into the bed. Now that he’s دیا her his gift, he is sleepy again.
Gwen settles down against him, into the crook of his arm, her hand on his chest. “Just now. Before I woke up and found آپ weren’t here.”
“What was it?” he asks, his hand stroking her back.
“Past me’s coronation as queen.”
“Cool.”
“It was nerve-wracking, actually,” she laughs.
“Really?”
“Well, think about it. I… she was a servant who was getting crowned queen. Of course it would be stressful for her. That’s a big change; a big responsibility to shoulder. Not to mention what the ‘nobles’ might be thinking of her یا saying behind her back.” She yawns, turning her face into his shoulder.
“Never thought about that. How did it go?”
“Very well, actually,” she says, furrowing her brow, trying to remember. “I remember walking up a long aisle…”
She describes the dream to him, as much as she can remember.
“They kissed? Did they do that at coronations?”
“I have no idea. But it was a good kiss. Past Arthur must have loved Past Guinevere a great deal.”
“Present Arthur loves Present Guinevere a great deal as well,” he smiles and kisses her forehead. Her eyes are closed again. “Go back to sleep,” he tells her softly.
When Arthur awakes again, he is alone in the bed. He sits up, blinking. Eight forty-four. He hears water running, so he gets up to investigate. Guinevere is brushing her teeth, wearing the other dressing gown. The fluffy white روب, چغہ is much too big for her and she looks like she is being swallowed سے طرف کی a cotton ball.
“Good morning, my love,” Arthur says, strolling in and kissing her cheek.
She spits into the sink. “Good morning, Husband,” she smiles at him. Gwen reaches for a glass and fills it with water. He watches as she reaches into a small medicine bag, pulls out a flat circular plastic case, pops a pill through a slot where it breaks through the foil and lands in her hand.
“Well, آپ won’t be needing those for much longer, eh?” Arthur asks as she swallows the pill. She turns and gives him a puzzled look.
“What?”
“Now that we’re married. آپ won’t need to take those any more.”
Gwen’s mouth opens, but she’s not sure what to say. She closes it again and turns away.
“I thought آپ wanted to have children,” he ventures. Should have kept your fool mouth closed, Arthur, he scolds himself, confused and hurt.
She turns back. “I do. Just…” she bites her lip.
“Yes?” he asks gently.
“Just not right away, Arthur.”
He sits on the edge of the tub and fidgets with the بیلٹ, پٹی of his robe.
“You’re disappointed,” she says, frowning. It is not a question; she can tell he is. She leans against the vanity and looks across at him.
“No,” he says.
“Liar.”
“Maybe a little. Mostly I’m just… surprised. I wasn’t expecting… I guess I didn’t think… I guess I thought…”
“You thought that as soon as I took your name I’d immediately want to have your children,” she says, but not unkindly.
He frowns, twisting his mouth to the side. Is that really what I thought? He is quiet for a moment. “I guess I did. Sexist point of view, I know. To automatically assume you’d want to get pregnant right away, I mean.”
“A bit. ‘Outdated’ might be a better way of putting it,” she smiles, and crosses to him, kneeling down in front of him. “Look, Arthur: We only met three months ago. آپ know how much I love you. And having your children is definitely on my فہرست of things to do, but right now I want to spend some time being us. آپ and me.” She takes his hands in hers. “We’re young, Arthur. We can afford to take the time to enjoy ourselves on our own terms, do some things that we won’t be able to do once children are in the picture. Call me greedy, but I’m not ready to share آپ yet. Not with anyone.”
He stares at her, briefly losing himself in her clear brown eyes, letting her words sink in, before speaking again. “I… never thought of it that way,” he says, stroking her hands with his thumbs.
“Trust me, love, the thought of having children with آپ makes me smile every time it comes into my head. I just want to wait.”
She sits there in front of him, waiting, giving him time. He holds her hands still in his, and he looks down at them.
She has a point. And it’s not like she doesn’t want to have children ever. I just didn’t consider the possibility that she might want to wait. He looks at her face, watching him, waiting. So patient. Wise. Generous. Kind. She’s absolutely right. I feel greedy, too.
Finally he pulls her up into his lap, and sighs. “You know, you’re right. We should take some time to be Arthur and Guinevere before we turn our lives upside down once again,” he says, smiling. “I’m not ready to share آپ yet, either,” he adds, kissing her neck.
“We can still get plenty of practice in during that time,” she grins at him. He kisses her, but she keeps her lips locked tightly together.
“After I brush my teeth,” he says, laughing.
“After آپ brush your teeth,” she agrees, standing.
“Are آپ hungry?” he asks, strolling back out into the bedroom, where Gwen has flipped on the television. She is lying on the بستر on her stomach, hugging a تکیا under her chin, feet kicked up in the air behind her.
“Yes,” she says, looking up at him, wondering what he’s got in mind. He’s got that look about him again, like he has something up his sleeve.
He crosses to the phone, picks it up and dials Room Service.
“Yes, we are ready for our breakfast now.”
“Thank you.”
He hangs up the phone.
“What was that about?” she asks, noting he didn’t give any order to them. “Did آپ arrange breakfast in advance?”
He nods smugly. “I told آپ that there were مزید surprises.”
“So I don’t get a say?”
“Not this morning,” he grins down at her.
“What?” She notices his amused expression.
“That روب, چغہ is way too big for you.”
She giggles, and shrugs. “Not much for it, I’m afraid.”
He drops on the بستر اگلے to her and rolls her onto her back, kissing her the way he wanted to a few منٹ ago, lovingly, passionately. His hand slides inside the neck of her robe, touching her skin beneath.
She turns her head to the side, “Arthur,” she manages. He simply begins nibbling her ear and ignores her.
“Arthur,” she says again, tapping him on the shoulder.
“Mmm?” he asks, his teeth grazing along the outer shell of her ear as his hand roves lower, finding her breast beneath the robe.
She gasps, falling under his spell, arching into his hand, her own hand going into his hair. “Arthur…” she moans, no longer remembering what she was going to say.
He kisses lower, nudging the روب, چغہ open with his nose, pulling at the بیلٹ, پٹی with his hand, untying it and opening it fully beneath him.
Arthur rains soft wet kisses along the side of her breast, circling his way to her waiting nipple, tormenting her سے طرف کی kissing and licking all around it. His hand is sliding along her thigh, first on the outside, then down and back up along the inside.
She whimpers in the back of her throat and he chuckles against her skin. Finally he takes the hardened nub in his mouth, flicking his tongue across it, coaxing it firmer still, مزید sensitive. His hand moves higher yet and she unconsciously parts her legs for him, encouraging him.
He touches her, warm and slick, his practiced fingers pulling forth another moan from her. He smiles against her breasts and kisses down her stomach. He slides a finger into her, then out to tease the sensitive skin there, then back in again.
“Oh…” she gasps. Arthur dips his tongue into her navel on his way down, down to his destination. He grabs a pillow, lifts her rear, and sets her on it before settling between her thighs. He plunges his tongue into her and she cries out softly at the contact, bunching the sheets in her hand.
He teases her with his tongue, flicking, stroking, driving her beyond any reason. He slides it along the length of her folds, kissing, nibbling gently, thrusting his tongue deep inside.
“Yes,” she moans, her hands in his hair, unconsciously pulling it as she grips it in her fists, her head tossing from side to side.
Arthur smiles against her as he pleasures her, his tongue on her moving slowly, then fast, ever changing and moving so she never knows what to expect next. He reaches up to take a breast in one hand while bringing the other down to slip inside her. His tongue delves inside one مزید time before he immediately replaces it with his finger, in and out as he licks at the swollen bundle of nerves nearby.
“Oh… oh…” she gasps, each one slightly louder than the اگلے as she writhes on the bed, her body warm and tingly all over, as she feels the familiar feeling of sinking and floating simultaneously start to overtake her. Arthur is unrelenting, gleefully pushing her over the edge.
Gwen bucks beneath him, shouting out and squeezing his head between her thighs as she climaxes, spent and reeling. She releases his head, her fingers loosening on his hair as he places a line of kisses along her inner thigh, grinning like a smug feline.
Arthur crawls up along her body and kisses her again, softly, and she brings her arms around his shoulders, holding on to him.
Just then there is a knock at the door and a muffled voice. “Room service.”
“Perfect timing,” Arthur says, planting one final kiss on her lips before climbing off of her.
“Ah!” she exclaims, irritated. “That’s why I was trying to stop you!”
Arthur just laughs and starts to walk to the door.
“Arthur,” she says, sitting up and closing her dressing gown.
“Hmm?”
“You may want to let me get the door, love. You’re a little… um…” she looks pointedly at the bulge beneath his robe.
“Oh. Yes. That could be awkward.”
“Plus your hair’s a mess. Sorry ’bout that,” she smiles and walks past him to the door, smoothing her hair.
There is another knock. “One moment,” Gwen calls as she approaches the door. She opens it and a woman wheels in a کی ٹوکری, رکن کی نمائندہ with two covered plates, a teapot and a cup, and a glass of milk. There is a bud vase with a lavender rose in it in the middle of the tray.
The woman moves the tray to the table, smiles at Gwen, and turns to go.
“Thank you,” Gwen says, closing the door behind her.
Arthur emerges from the bedroom, and walks to the table. “You didn’t peek, did you?” he asks.
“No. But I have an idea about what’s under these covers,” she says, grinning.
She’s too smart sometimes, he thinks, figuring that she probably knows.
He lifts the covers to unveil two egg sandwiches on bagels, just like Gwen made at the flat their first morning together.
“Yep. I knew it,” Gwen beams, leaning to kiss him.
Part 68: link
