Guilty Pleasures

[Arthur Pendragon]

He wanted her to be happy. But he was also so selfish. He was glad that she at least had a semblance of that, more so when her son came into their lives. He was jealous and selfish, but not malicious. He wanted Guinevère to be happy; for she deserved that. But now also knew that it hadn't been as simple for her either. He noticed her moved towards the table, but not him. Arthur watched her, using every ounce of strength within him to not stand up right now . . . and embrace her. He couldn't do that. He shouldn't even be thinking of doing that. Yet the direction of this conversation was not helping matters. His gaze fell back to the table when she went on to say that she had cried on her wedding night. That was something he had not expected. For that night, he had felt so tormented by it. He hadn't even gone to spend the night with Elena; he hadn't wanted to be with anyone, nor in anyone's company that night. And hearing that she cried . . . well again, it did not make him feel better. It made him feel worse. That such a special night had been one filled with tears; because of him. His guilt worsened when she spoke of how ashamed she was.

She was degrading herself, making her sound far less than the incredible woman she loved. He felt the need to say something, so that she would not be so hard on herself. For he could not stand to hear her speak so negatively about who she was. She still had the greatest heart of anyone he knew. "You loved him." It was not an accusation, but a reminder that she did love him. That she should not feel ashamed for how she treated him, because a part of her did love him. "Before me, you did love him. He knew that." Otherwise, he doubted Lancelot would have proposed to her. He had to know that somewhere, there was a mutual feeling between them. And . . . because it was easier to tell her that her husband loved her, rather than saying the three words to her now. The fact that Guinevère did love Lancelot made her a far better person than him. For he did not love Elena. Not when they got married. He'd grown to, but not in the way a husband should love his wife. Then they spoke of his lost child. A subject he was not finding easy to discuss. Especially with her saying that she was happy for him, but also hated the fact.

He knew such a conflict in emotions all too well. He had experienced it himself . . . when she'd gotten married. Then when he had seen her with child. But how did he say this? "I felt the same way," he admitted in a low voice, not proud of it. Especially since he was the one who was married first, and had no right to be upset about her marrying another man. She assured him that he would have a child; that one day Elena would give him that. They were trying . . . but Arthur hated himself for not wanting to have a child with anyone but Guinevère. He had still been so happy to discover that Elena was carrying their baby, but it was not the same joy he would have had, had the woman been Guinevère. "But, I can not love another woman." Horrible. He felt utterly disgusted with himself for saying this . . . for being on the very verge of saying he loved Guinevère. He did, but feeling it and saying it were two very different things. "I don't want to," he added in a lower voice. Now, he was talking about what he wanted, rather than what he needed. Something she had reminded him of before. He did not want to be married to another woman. He did not want to make love to her. He wanted Guinevère. But why was he saying all this? Because he was cruel. Foolish, selfish, and cruel.

[Guinevère]

She did not want him to love another, but she wanted him to love others. There was the difference. "She is a good woman, she could earn your love if you let her. You could be happy Arthur! I want nothing less from you." She'd planned to stay here and raise her son up in the world his father knew. Around Arthur.

She wanted to be close by him, but she knew that she should not. "Would it be easier if I left?" She asked softly, not wanting to go but knowing that Sir Leon had offered his home for her to visit or stay in if she needed time away from the city. It would be near her parents, and people she knew. She had stayed here (in the castle) after Lancelot had died, because of her son and his birth right. Had she not had a son she would have looked for word rather then be here doing nothing.

She pulled his cape tighter around her, as if it would protect her from their conversation. from going too far. Watching him she tried to imagine a life where she didn't even seen him from afar.

[Arthur Pendragon]

He could not love another woman. He knew that. He had tried. Tried to open his heart and mind to the possibility of loving another. But the kind of love he developed for Elena, was no where near the everlasting love he felt for Guinevère. There was a difference, and both women were incomparable. She wanted him to be happy, but he would never be happy in this life. He knew that the second he kissed Elena to seal their marriage. It was why he had let go of the possibility of being with her, and closed off his heart from anyone else entering it. He just shook his head, looking at the untouched cup of water, refusing to believe that he could love another. Knowing he never would. And then she asked a question that made him feel a wave of panic course through his body. "Would it be easier if I left?" He looked at her, unsure of what emotion was there.

Was she planning on leaving? Was this something she was considering? Or had their conversation and his confessions caused her to believe that leaving was easier. He did not want her to go. For purely selfish purposes. Because . . . he couldn't explain why. Seeing her was so painful, but not seeing her would make him feel like there was no hope in the world. He also knew this was not about him. She had a family here: Thomas, her brother, Merlin, the knights . . . he could not ask her to leave all she loved just for his sake. He would never ask her to make that sacrifice. Especially when it had been him first who married another. It had been him to had started to be with another woman, well before she married another man. He kept his eyes on her, feeling on the edge of panic over the thought of her leaving, and then trying to calm his stirring emotions.

He felt a slight tremble in his hand and quickly clasped it with his other hand, in attempt to still it. He needed to be fair . . . but none of what he said in this entire conversation was fair. It was horrid of him to admit his feelings for her, placing her in such an awkward position. "I can not ask you to stay if you do not wish to." Would it be easier for her if she left? He had let her go years ago, but . . . could he really let her go? To the point of watching her forever leave. "No," he finally said, knowing that there was a bit of a disjointing continuity between his two phrases. Where he was usually so calm and collected, he felt frazzled and flustered. Feelings that he did not like, yet unavoidable ones when he was with her, talking about such things. "Nothing would make this easier." He wanted that to be clear, that nothing she could do, staying or leaving, would make her absence in his life any easier.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère was glad to hear him say no, for she did not wish to leave but she wished that she was strong enough to not ask, and just go. Though she knew she'd miss him too much. She wanted to hold him, and promise things that she could never keep. She wanted to pretend in this moment--pretend things she could have.

"We can't live like this, Arthur. You're in pain. I want you to be happy." Yet she did not know how to help him be that way. "Is there really nothing I can do?" To help him be happy, and heal and move past this hurt she kept causing him. "What brings you joy now? Is there truly nothing out there that would help you? Your friends could help distract you, give you some peace."

[Arthur Pendragon]

"We can't live like this, Arthur." And yet, they had been. It was how they had been living for years. Before today. Before tonight. Where he had to open his mouth and tell her too much about how he was hurting. He never should have said anything. "You're in pain. I want you to be happy." He was not the only one, for now he knew that he was hurting too, and wondered if there would ever be a point where either of them would be truly happy. "Is there really nothing I can do?" No. He loved her with every part of him . . . but there was nothing she could do. She could not make him stop loving her.

"What brings you joy now?" Perhaps a child. But even then, he would not cease to love her. A child would simply give him something else to focus on. Something to channel his affections on. He had tried to make it Elena, but she would never be the woman who was truly in his heart. "Is there truly nothing out there that would help you? Your friends could help distract you, give you some peace." He did not want to sound overly cynical. But no. There was nothing that could distract him enough. It was not friends he sought. And admitting that it was only her, would place an unfair pressure onto her. Something that he could not do -- though did a terrible job of avoiding doing tonight.

He rose to his feet, the first time he stood since he had sat down very shortly after his arrival. He needed to leave, because nothing would be resolved from this conversation. He turned to face her, trying to remain strong yet felt such a wave of emotions within him. There was nothing she could do to ease the pain, and he needed to say goodbye. They had said feelings that had festered within him, and now was the time to set it all behind. "There is something you can do," he began to say. He no longer had control of the words coming out of his mouth. His mind was not functioning properly, otherwise he would have walked straight out of the room . . . a long time ago. "Let me hold you, one last time." Just a hug. Nothing else. Because he just wanted to feel her in his arms, before he was forever deprived of her. Because somehow, this felt like a greater goodbye then before.

[Guinevère]

"There is something you can do," "Anything!" she looked up at him, since he was standing now. She had not forgotten how tall he was, compared to her. It had been something she loved about him. How he was bigger and stronger then her. He made her feel small but not in a helpless way. he had done it in more of a way that made her feel safe from everything.

"Let me hold you, one last time."

Her whole body became still and for a moment she forgot the breathe. The only reason she was sure that she had not frozen, was for the pounding of her heart. The sharp thudding that told her she was not only alive, but very much not cold. "How would that help you? Would it not hurt more? Knowing there would never be another?" COULD never be another! He was a married man! His wife was a good woman!

They needed to think of her, but it was growing harder to remember her. Harder to remember anything. She had not even realized she had moved toward the corner of the table.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Nothing would help. Seeing her constantly reminded him of what he would never have, and when he didn't see her . . . he thought of her. All the time. "Nothing will make this hurt less." He was already at the maximum pain he could possibly be in. Whether he held her or not. He just . . . wanted to have that familiar feeling of his arms around her. Take in her scent. Her touch. Arthur knew this was wrong. That it was so inappropriate for a married man to ask to hold the woman he loved . . . the woman who was not his wife. But, he would do nothing more than hold her. That was it. And if this gave him the closure he needed, then . . . perhaps it would help. That was his logic; his skewed logic for he knew it would not matter. He did notice however that she was slowly moving towards him, to the corner of the table, and he found that he had no control of himself.

For he took a step towards her. He knew how dangerous it was to be close to her, which was why he had struggled to maintain that distance for the past few years, and even when they sat in this room. Yet, now he was asking to hold her. This is what happened when he lowered that wall he had up; when he lowered his guard. He made foolish requests that would only cause more pain in the end. But he did not take back his question. His steps moved towards her rather than towards the door. The exit; where he should be going. Yet, it was the last place he wanted to be. The first place was here with her. And that was the most forbidden place of them all.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère watched him walk forward, and forward. She did not move forward again but let him come to her. As he grew close, she lifted d her hand to let it hover a half inch from his chest. Not touching him, but not stopping him. "Arthur," she whispered, trying to decide what to do, how to handle this with out breaking.

The cape rested on her shoulders as she let it, but only for a moment, before it's weight pooled it around her feet. Her hands moved to slide between his arms and his body, with out touching him, so she could embrace him as he asked.

Taking a few deep breaths, smelling his natural scent that she had loved, and looking to his blue eyes she finally knew what to do. Her arms tightened around him, and she rested her forehead on his chest.

[Arthur Pendragon]

When she raised her hand, Arthur paused. He knew he could not ask her to embrace him, for he would understand if it was too much. But soon enough, her hands slid in between his arms, encouraging him to slowly put his arms around her. They were first placed on her hips and then slowly wrapped around her as her forehead rested on his chest. This, was what he had wanted for so long. The familiarity of the way her small body felt around his arms, the way her head felt against his chest, the way her scent was so warm and comforting. He leaned forward, but to the side; lowering his head so that his cheek rested against the side of her head. What was he doing. He was holding her too close. He knew that. But . . . his mind seemed to completely stop working. And his heart had taken over his actions. For the first time in years, his heart was controlling him . . . and he shouldn't let it.

But he couldn't stop it.

He took a deep breath, breathing her in, soaking in his this moment. He ever so slightly turned so that his lips kissed the side of her head, before they titled towards her ear. "I can't do this." His voice was a soft whisper, only able to be heard for he spoke directly in her ear. He couldn't do this. And he needed her to tell him to stop. Because he was losing all composure, resolve and strength. He was weakening, and he needed her to be strong for him. To push him away. To tell him to walk out of this room right now. He had said that all he would do was hug her, but now . . . he wasn't sure he would be able to let go. His lips had already brushed against the side of her head, having missed the way her soft skin felt on his lips. And finding himself wanting more. She had to tell him to walk away; because he was too powerless to do so himself.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère felt his hands on her hips, before they moved around her. She was fighting to be able not to hold onto him as if he was the only thing keeping her afloat. She had to remember . . . . she could not forget . . . .

His lips touched her, and moved to her ear. His words, whispered there made a shiver go down her spine. "I can't do this." Neither of them could! He needed to leave! Right now! Before she started begging!

She turned her head to tell him to go, to be the stronger one here! As she turned her head to look at him however, her lips somehow found his. One moment she as going to ask him to leave and the next moment she was kissing him as if she was afraid to end the kiss.

[Arthur Pendragon]

He felt her head move, expecting her to tell him to get out . . . but instead, was greeted with her lips on his. He paused for a moment, frozen in place, unable to react . . . because of the magnitude of what was happening. He had dreamed of this moment for so long. Knowing it could never happen, even though he wished for nothing else. And yet, here he was, embracing her in such an intimate way. For the moment, he could not think of anything else. Not his wife who was not here because she was mourning for their child. Not being a strong king who had to separate his emotions from himself. None of that entered his mind. All he could think about was how wonderful she felt against him, how sweet her lips tasted. And how for the first time in years, he felt alive again.

His paused action quickly turned and he wrapped his arms tightly around her. The kiss that had once started off soft, became more desperate. He had this built up passion for her for so many years. Every night he dreamed of her . . . of what it would be like to be with her. He felt his body ache for her and most times he would rather endure that pain, as oppose to relieve himself with pleasure from his wife. For nothing would fill that void. No matter how many times he made love to Elena, all his heart and body ever craved and desired was the woman who was now in his arms. The woman that he would not be able to let go of. His lips urgently kissed hers, intensifying, filled with so much emotion that he was obviously not thinking clearly. His hands moved over the curves of her body, wanting to feel how she felt after not being able to do so for so many years . . . and now the opportunity presented itself. And he would take full advantage of it.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère felt the kiss turn and shape into something else, something different and needy. Something that she knew she could not push away from. Her hand fisted into the shit over his back for a moment, before one of them came around to hold onto the back of his neck so he could not pull away.

She could not even think about right and wrong! Nothing else but the passion of the moment filled her, for it was too much of a surprise. She didn't think of her son, nor his wife, nor her reputation nor how this would hurt the next time she saw him kiss his wife. She made little needy sounds as she clung to him, and kissed him. Holding him tighter in an almost painful grip, and even going up on her toes in the need to get closer! Her whole body felt like it was sensitive, and ever cell in tune. She could feel herself pressed against him and she only knew that she was afraid for the moment it would end.

[Arthur Pendragon]

He felt all the more encouraged by her. The way her grip tightened around him . . . the way she kissed him. Right now, Arthur could not think of all the moral issues with this. His mind was incapable of thinking. For all he was focused on was her. She right now, was the center of his universe. Of everything. Of all that mattered in this world. He needed her. Emotionally, and now physically. He felt his breath slightly quicken with pure anticipation, and he could have sworn his heart was beating loud enough for her to hear. He had been deprived of her for so many years, that he wasn't sure how to handle this sudden burst of passion. He never wanted it to end, and he wanted it to happen. Something further than he ever would have thought himself doing while married. But right now, he thought of nothing else. Unless she showed the slightest hint of hesitation, he would not stop. He couldn't. Not with the way she held on to him and returned the kiss.

Not when every desire of his heart could be fulfilled, by being with her. He stopped the kiss for just a moment, but his lips were still against hers. He slightly parted his lips to speak, his eyes still closed as his hands continued to feel her body, slowly moving towards the lacings on her corset that she wore over top her dress. He stopped for a second, needing to get the words out that he had ended the kiss for. "I love you," he said in a breathless whisper. The three words that he had purposely avoided saying finally came out now, in this moment. For he wanted her to know them. Finding the pain of not kissing her to be too great, his lips claimed hers once more, as his hands began to pull the string that bound her corset together.

[Guinevère]

She felt him start to lift his head and she tried to hold on tighter but he lifted it anyhow. "I love you," She looked up at him with wide eyes, and went to speak in return but his lips claimed over her's as she opened them. She felt his hands, which had wondered over her, touching and tempting move to unlace her corset!

She didn't even think it was going to far, she only knew she wanted nothing between them! Tears filled her eyes and a faint few slid over her cheeks int he joy of being in his arms in a way she had never been before! She wanted to push his vest off and cling too him more, but as her corset loosened enough that she could breathe deeply she let him go long enough to let it fall from her.

"I love you!" She cried, but there was joy and not sorrow there. As she stepped back toward him her hands DID grab his vest and push it back off him, letting it join the others on the floor. One hand came up to pull the golden band of a crown from his head and let it drop tot he floor with a loud clang. It did not break the kiss, and she let her hand run though his hair.

[Arthur Pendragon]

He finally managed to get her corset off and found himself one step closer to undressing her. His hands went to her hair to pull however she had it tied so that it fell loosely down her back. He had missed everything about her. The small details that he hadn't even realized he missed until he saw her again. The way her soft curls felt when he twisted them around his fingers being one of those more subtle things that he missed, and now could have once again. While his mind was not processing anything, overpowered by emotions, he heard her tell him that she loved him. And this, just added a stronger desperation to the kiss. Especially when he felt his jacket fall to the ground and the band around his head join it. He was getting more and more impatient. His hands moved from her back and instead, began to unbuckle his sword belt, slightly frustrated when his hands faltered for he was not looking and was far too impatient to do it slowly.

But finally, the belt and attached weapon fell to the ground, to join the other assortment of clothing. His hands moved back to her hips, but this time moved a bit lower under her legs, the fabric of her dress still proving to be a barrier. From that angle he lifted her up, so that she could somewhat wrap her legs around him as he half carried her towards the bed that he knew was not far from them. At this forward angle, he could continue to kiss her, fearing that if he ended the kiss, logic would take over and he would leave. Something he did not want to even think of doing right now. Once at the bed, he gently released her so that her back as on it, as he joined her on top, not breaking the contact of their lips for a single moment.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère felt him lift her, and held him closer. Both so she would not fall, and because she wanted to be closer to him. She wanted to feel his skin, rather then the clothing under her hands. Her back came to rest on the bed and she held him tightly. With her hands she pulled her dress a little higher, so she could let each of her legs rest around his hips.

"Arthur!" She called out his name between kisses, as her hands started pulling up his shirt. She pulled it over his head and then let it go, not caring it if even made it off the bed or not. She only knew she wanted him, and nothing else. Her mind was not even thinking about other things. Arthur & Guinevère, that was all there was in the world right now. It had been years for her, since she last been held and kissed and not felt this alone. so many years! It felt as if she was waking up.

[Arthur Pendragon]

POST REMOVED FOR CONTENT! SEE WRITER FOR ORIGINAL!

[Guinevère]

POST REMOVED FOR CONTENT! SEE WRITER FOR ORIGINAL!

[Arthur Pendragon]

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[Guinevère]

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