Eric's efforts to distract Claire were working - somewhat. She wasn't paying enough attention to notice when Arya and Eric snuck off for a few minutes every now and then to make out like horny teenagers, but
was
nervous enough about the arrival of Eric's friend Roy Easton to be a constant thorn in Eric's side.
"He'll be here at noon, you said?" Claire asked for the fourth time. "Tomorrow?"
Eric nodded in response, jaw tight. She was testing his patience and he was beginning to think that inviting her sister's crush to the estate had been a poorly thought out strategy. In his head, he had imagined Claire being excited for Roy's arrival and completely enthralled during his time there, thus unable to continue her overprotective monitoring of his and Arya's relationship. Eric had even planned out the entire week, including how he would separate the couples, giving each pair an activity or opportunity for some alone time for at least a few hours each day. But he hadn't expected Claire to be so anxious.
I really hope things change when he gets here. I need someone to keep her busy,
he thought to himself.
I need time to prepare
. His blue eyes darkened as he pictured Arya writhing in the confines of his ropes.
Since the trip to the grove the day before, Eric had been fantasizing constantly about his plans for the girl. The idea of marrying her was growing slightly less distasteful every day (or slightly more enticing every day, if he were to be honest about it), though he was still hesitant enough about the idea to want to resist taking her virginity. Instead, he had several different activities planned that were extremely, wonderfully sexual in nature, but not enough to push Arya past her limit. He just needed enough time to enact them.
He met Arya's eye from across the room. She was curled up reading, looking so cozy wrapped in a shawl by the fireplace with her knees tucked up and her little nightcap on. It was pink and lacy and he wondered how she would look wearing matching undergarments and nothing else.
As if she could sense his thoughts, Arya's cheeks flushed and she looked quickly down at the page she was clearly not reading. Her eyes were glazed with distracting thoughts of her own, and when she glanced up again he was still watching her. He winked and Arya couldn't help smiling back, sticking out her tongue.
Eric supposed it was meant to be a childish sort of teasing, but her out-stretched tongue had taken on a whole new meaning for him. His half-hard cock - it seemed to be perpetually at half-mast nowadays - swelled as he remembered the way her tongue had looked and felt when he slapped it with his cock.
"What?" he asked, blinking, realizing that Claire had asked him a question.
"I asked what you have planned for us," his sister repeated.
Eric flushed in embarrassment as his plans for Arya crowded his mind, and he forced the thoughts down.
"Pushy, aren't we?" Eric grumbled. Claire glared at him, but didn't speak back.
Forced to maintain a deferential position to her brother, since he was the male in the family, Claire struggled to give up the control she wanted, nay needed. It was a constant inner battle for her to keep her mouth shut as often as she did, but with Lord Easton coming and her anxiety mounting, she was losing some of her self-control.
"You said you had some ideas. What are they, Eric?"
Eric clasped his hands in front of him, twiddling his thumbs. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied with a smirk, enjoying her frustration.
"Obviously..." she muttered, glowering as she waited for him to answer properly.
He felt a bit guilty and began outlining his plans concisely, knowing that once she had an agenda her nerves would abate somewhat.
"We'll spend the afternoon tomorrow having a picnic and walking the grounds," he began. He sighed, as though feeling regretful, informing her, "I had made a reservation ages back for dinner in town - extremely difficult to get and I don't want to waste the chance - but Roy will have been traveling all morning. So I was hoping that you and he could eat dinner here, instead, give him a chance to get off the road. Would you be alright keeping him company for me while Arya and I go to dinner? It shouldn't take long."
Claire nodded silently, exceedingly pleased but trying not to show it.
"Wonderful. On Saturday I was thinking that a trip to the grove would be in order. Sunday we have church in the morning and can go for a nice ride in the afternoon. And the rest of the week is ours. I don't have any particular agenda other than to enjoy ourselves. Thoughts?"
"That sounds fine," Claire approved.
"Town?" Arya asked.
"Millcote, about an hour's ride east," Eric answered. "There's not much to recommend it other than their food, which is known to be excellent. They are the largest producers of much of the food in this part of the country, and tend to hoard the best of it for themselves."
"Will we ride there?" Arya asked hopefully.
Eric chuckled, though Claire appeared to disapprove of the suggestion. With cause, Eric knew, since a noblewoman riding to town on a horse instead of a carriage was not "normal" behavior. But Arya was not normal, and taking the horses was part of his plan. So he nodded, and Arya beamed.
Claire said nothing, but she did cast a piercing glance his way. He could easily guess that Claire was assuming that he was irrationally giving in to Arya's whim due to some form of affection or desire to please, and he was happy to let her think so; it was certainly better than her guessing his true, more nefarious reasons for conceding to Arya's request.
It was soon time for bed and Eric felt his breath quicken. They walked upstairs, and when the women separated from Eric to enter their wing of the mansion he kissed his sister's cheek as he always did, and took Arya's hand, kissing it respectfully as he bade her goodnight. Her fingers tightened around his as she realized in surprise that he was handing her a note, and she clutched it in her fist as she drew her hand away.
She opened it eagerly when she reached her room, excitement growing. All day today they had done nothing more than spend a few minutes kissing quietly in a hidden alcove, and even that was slightly risky. They had not attempted another nighttime rendezvous, because Eric's solicitor stayed at the estate overnight, having traveled from Veras to meet with his employer. He had stayed in the room next to Eric's, and Eric did not want to risk any chance of him and Arya's passion being overheard. He knew for a fact that the man was a gossip. But the solicitor was gone, now, and Arya was well aware that the rooms on either side of Eric's were empty.
A blossom of heat began to curl in Arya's core; her hopes for another chance to feel his body and be felt by him were tantalizingly close to being answered. She wasn't disappointed. The note read, "Wait an hour after you hear the last of Claire's movements then join me."
The hour of waiting was torture for Arya. The heat did not abate, anticipation making it grow, if anything. It was just after 11 by the time Arya was able to sneak out of her room, stealthing down the hall until she reached Eric's door. She hesitated for a moment. It felt rude not to knock, but knocking would be foolish. She took a breath and opened the door slightly, peeking inside.
Eric was sitting by the fire, reading. He didn't hear the door, for it was well-oiled and there was no sound to give away Arya's entrance. She watched him for a moment before entering, mesmerized by the way the firelight danced across his face. She drank in his profile, tracing the lines of his high browline, deep set eyes, and defined jaw. Hearing a noise somewhere in the house, Arya squeaked and quickly wormed her way through the small gap, closing the door behind her with more force than necessary.
He turned and grinned, instantly laying down the book and opening his arms. Arya walked towards him, gliding on eager toes as she climbed into his lap. Eric held her tight. He kissed her cheek, her jaw, tilting his head as he examined her face and softly drew the nightcap from her head. Her silky chestnut hair fell in waves around her shoulders, and he stroked it, loving how it felt under his hand. She purred like a cat and snuggled closer, enjoying the soothing touch.
He ran his fingers through her locks, his face contemplative, before grasping her hair at the roots and tilting her head so that she was positioned perfectly for his kiss. It was searing, almost desperate, and Arya moaned as she understood that his need was as great as hers. She felt Eric's hardness throb and jerk with her sounds of delight and arousal, and she wriggled her bottom against him, wanting to hear him moan, too.
He happily obliged, pressing his groin up into her as forcefully as he could while groaning softly into her mouth. "You undo me," he whispered hoarsely, opening his eyes as he searched her face, hoping to read a desire equally as strong, equally as needy.
She responded with a forceful kiss, even more passionate and aggressive than his had been, and he began grabbing, groping, and kneading her body everywhere he could easily reach. When that wasn't enough, when he needed to feel more of her, he stood abruptly. She made a noise of surprise but didn't try to stop him as he carried her to the bed. Instead of dropping her on it, however, Eric placed her on her feet.
Arya was confused, her face flushed and her body as hot and needy as it had ever been and she didn't want him to stop. But she had no choice. When she attempted to speak, he shushed her.
"Do not speak again until I tell you to," he ordered. He spoke in that stern, almost angry voice that made Arya's knees weak and she wanted nothing more than to obey. She obediently nodded, making a motion like she was locking her mouth with a key.
"My perfect little honey bee," he praised. He walked around her twice, taking in her form, wanting her to feel the anxiety of anticipation as she waited, unsure what he would do to her.
"Take it off."
He indicated towards the nightgown with a jerk of his head and Arya slowly complied. Her movements were slowed due to a slight reluctance from her self-consciousness, but it made the process all the sweeter for Eric; it was a tease, the way she lifted it over each part of her body with a timidity and meekness that made him ache for her. First her legs, those glorious, long, smooth limbs. Then higher, until her mons was visible with its wispy hair and lips swollen with desire. Her stomach was next, the curves a perfect plumpness as they swept upwards to her breasts. He loved the sight of them. They were perfect in their imperfection, one slightly larger than the other, laying lower on her chest with their teardrop shape, nipples large and puckered.
He forced himself not to touch her, to let her finish her unknowing strip tease while he watched hungrily. She finally raised it over her head and dropped it to the floor. He walked around her a few more times, admiring her from all angles. Standing behind her and looking down, he throbbed as he took in the sight of her ass. He wanted to see her bent down, to open those cheeks and let him lick, finger, and penetrate whichever hole he pleased.
, he reminded himself.
When he reached out to touch her, it was gentle, oh so gentle. Just the tips, running across her skin everywhere he could reach. Arya shivered and gasped, ticklish in places but loving his caresses.
His touch grew more aggressive as Eric drew her towards him with a firm grasp on her bottom, just underneath the round globes where her cheeks met her thighs. It was his favorite part of her, that junction; not least of all because it was the perfect groove for his hands to fit into as he raised her up and her legs wrapped around his waist.
