The E/a in the title stands for Eric and Arya. There is also a Chapter 9 dedicated to Claire and Roy (C/r). I had combined the two at first, but it didn't seem to mesh well so I've separated them. I personally love each, since they demonstrate the spectrum of BDSM and D/s in particular; a world of roles and kinks that is diverse and beautiful in all its forms! If you aren't interested in the gender-swapped version of this chapter, though, and want to focus just on Arya and Eric I suggest skipping to Chapter 10!
~Gaelen
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Claire had been pacing the halls all morning, thinking, worrying, planning. They had expected Roy the day prior and the delay had only increased her anxiety.
In regards to his visit overall, she was as confused as she was nervous. When she had asked Eric his reason for inviting his acquaintance to the estate, his answer had been vague and unsatisfying. She had a suspicion that it might be for her benefit, but she had never spoken to Eric about her feelings for Lord Easton and always thought her self-control and calm façade were foolproof.
Maybe it's because we're siblings,
she mused.
I can certainly read
him
better than others can. Perhaps even better than himself
.
And it was true. Claire was extremely perceptive, and had known since before their arrival at Eric's estate in Langton that he had serious feelings for the girl Arya. It was more for Arya's sake than his that she had warned the girl not to fall for him, informing her that Eric had loved another and would likely never marry, now. It was an inappropriate move, she knew, but she had instantly recognized Arya's kindness and genuine nature and, despite her occasional gruffness towards the girl, had grown rather fond of her.
In the past she had been protective of her brother, observing the deceit in every vapid, social-climbing woman who had earned Eric's affection - with the exception of Sophie, who she had loved almost as deeply as her brother - but this time it was Eric who she didn't trust. She could see his affection for Arya, despite his stubborn desire to remain single, and she knew that their relationship had grown physical. She sincerely hoped that he would do the right thing, in the end.
Either way, she had resigned herself now to letting the chips fall where they may. It was too late for her to change the course of her brother's relationship, but it was still possible for her to forge her own fate; and she was determined to do so. Whether purposeful or not, Eric had provided her the exact opportunity she had always needed, and she planned to take full advantage of Lord Easton's time with them.
Claire's history with the nobleman was sparse and inconstant, because Lord Easton had many responsibilities of his own and no love for the capital. She knew that his occasional visits to Veras were largely motivated by his desire to see her; he had told her so himself, so cute and bashful in his admission that she had been unable to stop herself from leaping on him and forcing him to kiss her the way she needed him to. Since then he had been polite, attentive, and even affectionate at times, but had kept his distance. His apparent rejection hurt, but she knew that his family wanted him to marry someone else and she suspected that his distance was an attempt to not become attached to a woman he likely couldn't have.
But Claire was determined to have him. Only three weeks ago she had learned that his prospective fiancée had died of a fever, and ever since then she had been strategizing. She had done extensive research - even going so far as to draw upon her less scrupulous contacts to find out information about the brothels he visited and his bedroom predilections. She knew the power of sex and was determined to use it, especially after she discovered that his preferences aligned so closely with hers. And they were unusual enough that Claire was willing to bet a substantial fortune that only she, out of the many noblewomen they knew, could satisfy him.
The clock tolled noon and Claire took one last look in the mirror. Her dark, glossy hair and olive skin were beautifully offset by a gorgeous, expensive fuschia gown, and her eyes were bright with excitement. She straightened her cape and set off to find her brother.
She was amused as she entered the room where Arya and Eric had been spending the morning and caught him playing with her hair, his head bent low as he whispered something to her. The couple jumped apart when they heard Claire enter, both turning pink, and Claire pretended not to have noticed.
"It's time," she said tersely. Claire marched off with impatient dignity as the two lovers followed, and the three of them were soon waiting in a sitting room by the front door for Lord Easton to arrive.
____________________________________________
Arya couldn't help but notice Claire's nervousness, and empathized with her. But it was also somewhat amusing, watching the normally self-contained and serious young woman acting like a lovestruck schoolgirl.
What she
couldn't
empathize with or understand, was Claire's attraction to the man. After his arrival the four of them had spent time getting to know one another, and it had been unpleasantly awkward. Lord Easton was nothing like what Arya had expected; she had pictured the lovely, smart, strong woman with a "bad boy", a rake who would sweep her off her feet. But Lord Easton's personality was about as exciting as a block of wood, and she was glad that Eric had devised opportunities for the couples to spend time apart this coming week. She didn't know much more of his inane small talk she could tolerate with equanimity.
Claire didn't seem to mind his ways, however, and Arya supposed that that meant they were a good match; anyone who could hang off of Lord Easton's every word was a woman he should instantly marry, since it was probably a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for him.
She knew the thoughts were unkind, but she could tell that Eric agreed with her and that made her feel less bad for some reason.
The tedious afternoon was soon over, and Arya and Eric saddled up to ride to Millcote for the evening. Their tryst the night before had been special and new for both of them and, as lovers do, they were impatient to talk about it. They relieved the experience, sharing what they had loved, what had made them nervous, and Eric made Arya blush several times with hints as to his intentions for their next sexual escapade.
Dinner was exquisite, and Arya loved sampling the dishes which were, to her, novel. This was a different part of the country and she loved the accents she heard, the new dishes, and the whole fine dining experience, which had rarely been part of her life before now.
Arya sighed, not looking forward to the trip home and wishing they could stay just a bit longer.
Seeming to share her frame of mind, Eric leaned across the table and whispered conspiratorially, "Wouldn't it be a shame if something happened to one of the horses and we were forced to stay the night?"
Arya was too startled to reply for a moment, then began to beam. Eric winked and motioned for her to stand.
"I've already paid for two rooms."
Seeing her reaction he added, "
Yes
, two rooms, you naughty girl. ... but there is a door connecting them, don't worry."
He laughed at her overt look of relief. "Come," he said, "the inn is just across the street."
It was a beautiful little building, with exposed beams and roaring fires set into alcoves. Their rooms were adequate - at least according to Eric. In Arya's estimation they were quite lovely. Eric introduced Arya to the innkeeper as a distant cousin, and they made a show of retiring to their separate rooms. Arya had a maid help her bathe, then climbed wearily into bed before the women left, complaining about her long day. They waited until all sounds had ceased, then Eric softly rapped on her door.
Arya flew to open it, but paused just before she did, taking a deep breath. As ordered, she was wearing nothing. Naked as the day she was born, Arya felt strangely nervous. He had seen her nude many times and obviously found great pleasure in it, but this was such a deliberate act of submission. She was saying, from the very instant he entered the room, that she was ready for him, that she wanted him, and that she would do as he asked.
Any possible reluctance flew out of the window as she remembered the earth-shattering orgasm he had brought her to the night before, and she opened the door with a smile.
Eric drew in a breath. He had known what to expect, but he was still stunned by her loveliness. Her chestnut locks were undone from their braid, her dark, strangely green-flecked eyes were bright, and her red lips beckoned to him. Her body was flickering with firelight, her curves gorgeous and her skin smooth and supple. He snatched her up and she threw her arms around his neck, her legs wrapping around his waist. He nuzzled his face in her neck and took in her scent, so clean after her bath and lightly perfumed.
He dropped her on the bed and she drew him to her, using his shirt to pull him on top of her with surprising strength. They kissed, passionate and needy as their hands roamed. Arya impatiently tugged at his shirt, trying to remove it, and he chuckled affectionately. He stroked her face, kissing her again before giving in and removing it.
Arya loved the look of him, the lean body with the barest of hair. She pinched his nipples, looking into his eyes to see how he would react. He didn't appear aroused by it so she began to stroke her hands along his body instead, drawing out a lustful sigh as he allowed her free range over his body.
She tugged at his pants and Eric smiled. "So soon, honey bee?"
Arya turned pink and smiled back sheepishly. "It just doesn't seem fair," she mumbled. "I have to be naked, so you should have to be, too!"
"Fair enough," he replied with a laugh. His face grew more serious, however, as he added, "But first we need to talk for a moment."
"... alright."
