Guilty Pleasures

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur was not an idiot. He knew how difficult this was . . . probably more so for him than her. He was the one with less self control, so he had no idea how he was managing to gently press into her skin without doing more to add to the intimacy of this moment. But just because he was not doing anything, didn't mean he wasn't thinking it. He was ashamed of the thoughts that entered his mind . . . thoughts of where his hands had been on her just days ago. Of where he wanted them again. His eyes went from her arm and looked at the lacings on her dress. Staring at them. Wondering . . . no. He could not just start pulling them. Even if he had to practically fight himself from allowing his hands to move towards them. He had to stop staring . . . he had to stop . . . imagining. Once again, he was thankful that she was not looking at him right now.

He felt her body slightly tense up, and wondered if that was from the pain . . . or something else. Was she feeling the same . . . desires he was? He could not ask. How he had become so helpless against her. When he'd been managed and coping for years. But it just took that one time. One time to weaken him completely. To now, not even being able to touch her without having inappropriate thoughts. "Guinevère," he said, forcing his voice to sound controlled, when he could feel his heart beating. When he felt such desires for her, from the way she spoke . . . from the recent memories she had given him. "I need you to relax your shoulders." With the way she gripped the chair . . . that was not what he wanted to say to her, but he was still struggling to remain formal. Formal! As his hands continued to move in a circular motion around the area, still forcing them to stay on track . . . and not stray from their course of purpose.

[Guinevère]

He was asking her to relax her shoulders, and she knew she needed to do it but she also knew that she could not. She even tried! She tried to think of ANYTHING besides the hands that were on her, and who's hands they were and the other night and how his hands had touched her thigh and then gone higher . . . and the . . . .

A small sound escaped her, as the memories combined with his hands reminded her of what she wanted most. No! She needed to focused and this of . . something . . . ANYTHING! Had he not just asked her something? Yes, she should tell him that it's . . . she should tell him . . .

Relaxing wasn't going to happen for her. Not until he left and she could breath enough to claim her passion over ran emotions. "I can't." She admitted to him, not even aware she was speaking aloud. "Not while your hands are on me."

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur had no idea how his hands had not yet strayed. With the rush of desire building up in him, the way Guinevère's body had tensed . . . and now the small sounds that she let out . . . Arthur knew that this was a very bad idea. It had started with an innocent massage . . . but nothing he ever did with her was innocent. It could never be. And he knew he was just constantly trying to find justification to get away with it. It was wrong. It made him worse of a person than just being open and honest about his intentions. It made him feel more guilty. His hands continued to massage the area, but he was losing his composure. And they began to slowly, very slowly move away . . . moving forward . . . nearer to where he had wanted them . . . closer to . . .

"I can't. Not while your hands are on me." He immediately stopped. His hands freezing as he abruptly moved them off of her. What was he doing! What was he doing to her? To himself? . . . To Elena. "I'm sorry," he quickly got out, ever so slightly breathless from all the anticipation he had suddenly felt with his hands on her. He took a step back, away from the chair . . . away from her. Where he needed to be yet the last place he wanted to be. "I shouldn't have." He shouldn't have done this . . . again. He had to keep to his word! He needed to leave.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère felt his hands move forward and forward and her breathing started to come quicker, and then----

He was backing away. She closed her eyes and held them tightly shut wanting nothing more then to beg him to touch her how he had almost touched her just a moment ago. Her arms wrapped around her middle for a moment and only then was she able to turn and looked at him.

Standing slowly she said nothing, just looking at his face and wondering what he would do next. Wondering if he would leave or if he would run. Her eyes looked at his lips for a long moment before she was able to look at his eyes again. It felt as if that first night had changed everything. Years of polite conversation and formlessness could never be grained after a night in his arms. She would always want him now, and want to be in his arms. In this moment, she was only half sure why she couldn't. Even her morals were given up in the face of her need to be loved by this man before her.

[Arthur Pendragon]

He was not sure how to take her silence. He just knew that silence was even more dangerous. For with silence, came no conversation and with that, came no rationality and with no rationality . . . well, it would lead to him pulling her into his arms and kissing her in the way he wanted to for days. For years. But having had that night, changed everything in the way he longed for her. Knowing what her body felt like, what it was like to make love to her . . . made him crave it so much more. Which was why it was stupid for him to have come tonight. Knowing how he felt about her. He had to leave. What was the excuse he had used to stay? He was finding it too difficult to concentrate when he was looking at her. Her beautiful eyes. Her lips . . . her figure . . . Thomas! Right. That was why he had come and stayed and . . . he needed to go.

Finally breaking the almost painful silence, Arthur reached behind him, his cape having concealed what he had tucked in his belt. He revealed a long item wrapped in a red cloth. Dangerously, he stepped slightly closer to her, handing it out to her. Thank goodness it was long. It would not call for incredibly close distance to her to be able to pass it. "Give this to Thomas," he told her softly. It was a lance, perfect for his size since he was no where near old enough to hold a proper one. But he had remembered Guinevère telling him of how he wanted to learn to joust, and this would give him practice. It was wrapped in a red cape, another perfectly sized fabric for the child. So that Guinevère could keep the other cape. As she had said she would.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère saw him pull something out of his pants, and watched as he extend it toward her. Reaching her hand out she let her finger touch it, noticing it's size and shape, and how it felt under her hand. Taking the lance from him she held it in her hands for a moment just staring at it before looking up at him with wide eyes.

Surprise, and love and . . . . and something more basic was all there in her eyes. She held nothing back in this moment. She'd told him of her son's dream and he went out of his way to give him a gift to help him achieve it. Or at least pretend too. THIS was why he was a great man! This was why he would be a great father. Because he was the man man she had ever known. Emotion filled her and she found she could not speak, even to thank him. She could only look at him, and wish for so many things in her heart that her head would not allot.

[Arthur Pendragon]

The look she was giving him . . . was the same one he always had when he looked at her. The same affectionate gaze that he'd had to suppress in order to not make his love for her obvious. The look that kept breaking through the wall of his hard exterior . . . as small glimpses of it had made their way on his face during these past few days. He could not hold her gaze. He had to look away, so he looked at the lance in her hands. "It's a start for him," Arthur said, continuing to speak about it. Useless words, but he felt the need to speak. For once, he felt the need to talk. Because silence often led him to acting. Just as the silence that followed when she'd given him her favor for the first time . . . which led to the first time he kissed her.

"And the cape." He had given the items, so why was he still here? He should just turn and leave. He didn't need to linger here any longer. But his feet seemed so grounded in place. He would have added that she didn't need to say it was from him, for he would have preferred it to be anonymous, but after their conversation about him, about how she wanted him in his life . . . he knew that there was no harm in being honest with the boy. His eyes finally met hers again, trying to hold himself back. No longer finding any possible words to say . . . and struggling to maintain the distance between them that he absolutely despised and wanted to be rid of.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère watched him look down at the gift in her hands that he was giving her for her son. She could not help but to try ti imagine who this would make him feel. If she had thought that keeping him in bed before he'd been given the thing he wanted most in the world would be hard--Arthur had just made it both impossible, and given him HOPE, something to look forward too. Gave him something to be excited about.

She could only stare at him, not sure why to say, and not trusting her self to say anything other then "Thank you," That was whispered softly as she looked into the blue eyes she dreamed of her children having one day. Her heart hurt from the love in this moment. He'd given her son a gift that he would remember forever, and he'd done it because when she had been making small talk he'd taken it to heart.

I love you; she wanted to tell him but could not.

[Arthur Pendragon]

He gave a short nod when she thanked him. He knew that she was filled with emotion right now . . . he could see it in her eyes, and hear it in her voice. She was always so much better at expressing it than he was, even before he had vowed not to show any of his feelings. When they had been together -- when he'd been falling in love with her -- she had brought that out in him. She had shown him through her comforting actions that it was ok to express himself. That emotions were not a weakness, but rather a strength. It was why she was the only person he had ever felt comfortable shedding tears in front of. Why only with her could he be himself. Why he had never pretended to be someone else. Why . . . he missed her so much. Why he loved her so much.

That had been the reason he could not let anyone close. Because no one would compare to her. No one would show him in the same that she did, that it was alright to cry and hurt and not be afraid to talk about it. She had been his confidant, the strongest woman he knew. It was unfair for him to think these things, so had to hold his tongue from saying of it. "If Thomas needs anything, do not hesitate to ask." He wanted to tell her if that if she needed anything, to come to him. But he couldn't. He was trying to make this only about her son but it never would be. His words were also meant as parting ones but he still did not move towards the door.

[Guinevère]

Arthur was offering to help if Thomas needed anything and she could not think of a single thing Thomas would need that would invite Arthur into their lives. "Perhaps you can stop by to see him sometime. Gaius said two or three days bed rest. That will be hard on a hyper little boy." It would be, but she knew they'd mange.

Perhaps she would find a good book and read to him, or let him hold the gift that the king himself had given him. He would wish to show his friends but that would have to wait. Put any more then one little boy in a room and they went wild with activity and excitement. She did not wish him to reharm his arm.

[Arthur Pendragon]

When she suggested that she could visit him, Arthur was tempted by the idea. Not only because it meant he would be able to see her again, but . . . he was developing a fondness for the boy. He had no children of his own and while he knew it was not his place to be so close to Thomas, he could not help it. As his previous thoughts had concluded: it was because he was Guinevère's son. "Very well then," he said, knowing he was failing in maintaining formal and collected. So he had to go. He would make no promises either way because . . . just because. He knew he would see Thomas again, whether it was out on the training field or for his next riding lesson. If he did come visit him, he would make sure it was during the day . . . and that there was no possibility for those small intimate moments between him and Guinevère, that he wanted so badly.

"Take care Guinevère," he said, knowing this was goodbye. It had to be. He was not strong around her . . . he would never be. He had to keep to his vow and the more they did this, the more risk there was of other people finding out. But mostly, the more it would hurt her . . . and . . . Arthur's thoughts were not entirely rational. Just enough for him to move his feet, and walk to the door, which meant he was now walking past her.

[Guinevère]

She wasn't quite sure how it happened, Arthur was agreeing to visit her son and she was going to thank him again. He'd given this gift, and she wanted him to know how much it meant to both her and Thomas. It was a big deal to them, even if he did not think it was. She also had the idea of asking him if he knew any books boys liked! She should have done that sooner!

She wanted to asked him, and hope that he had a good recommendation. As he wanted toward the door, so many things filled her mind to tell him and she knew she only had to open her mouth and speak them and he would stay. As he moved to pass her however, and she had her moment to speak and stall his leaving for a moment, she once again broke, and stepped forward to meet him, framing his face and letting her lips find his.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur had not been expecting the embrace that happened just before he walked past her. But by no means did he reject it. When he felt her hands on his cheeks and her lips on his, he instantly reacted. Closing his eyes, he wrapped his arms around her, and took a deep breath, already deepening the kiss. How was it that every time his lips touched hers . . . all thoughts escaped his mind. He couldn't think, he could barley breathe. He just . . . felt. Felt an array of emotions that made his heart feeling it was going to explode. He had wanted this moment since the last time he had been with her. The kiss in Thomas's room had been too short, too guarded. This was not.

He held her so close to him, afraid to let go. He did not even think of her shoulder that she'd just told him was sore as he pressed her body next to his. He was clinging to her, as if holding her was the only think that kept him alive; that had brought him back to life to begin with. The kiss was getting deeper and more passionate, as all that built up desire finally had an outlet. And like all other kisses with her, he could think of nothing else, focus on nothing else. Just her. And he was perfectly happy with that.

[Guinevère]

Guinevère felt him kiss her back and she pushed up on her toes to attempt to get closer to him. She wanted her whole body to be merged with his and even them it would not be close enough to sure her. Nothing else mattered because in this moment there was only him and her. There was no on else. She knew they had to fight this but she was so tired of fighting it.

She wanted to embrace it, and hold him tighter. Her hands fell from his face and down to his sides, just above his hips, as she rested them there, bunched in his shirt. The kiss deepened and lingered and touched her soul with the euphoria is gave her. She wanted to say his name or beg or something but could not even speak around the emotional kiss.

[Arthur Pendragon]

This was how it should be. Him and her, together. When he was in a moment such as this, any possible alternative just seemed so wrong. So impossible. Which was why he could not think when he was kissing her, holding her, or touching her in any way possible. He just acted on what his heart told him to; what feelings she always elicited. Needing to have some sort of support, without thinking, he began to walk forward, only need to take a few steps before her back was pressed against the wall, his hands no longer around her but on her. Starting from underneath her arms, slowly trailing down her side until they rested on her brown belt. His hands moved along it, more so feeling around her stomach rather than the actual article of clothing.

When he reached the part where it was bound, he pulled it loose, letting it fall to the ground. His hands were finally closer to where he had wanted them all along. And his lips pressed against her so passionately. His breath was getting heavier, his desires getting stronger. He wanted to take her to the bed -- just as before -- but could not move right now. He had her in a position where he could work on her, and the bed just felt so far away right now.

[Guinevère]

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[Arthur Pendragon]

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[Guinevère]

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[Arthur Pendragon]

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[Guinevère]

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