finalflight | psl; [a marriage of inconvenience]

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psl; [a marriage of inconvenience]

THE AUBEL ESTATE is located in Derbyshire, England, a stately old home reminiscent of centuries long past. Long ago, it had fallen into disrepair and abandoned until previous generations of the Aubel family purchased the land for themselves, having found their fortunes in matters of real estate. Since that time, the outside has been restored and the inside has been renovated at least three times. Four, if you ask the uncle who remembers the one summer where the chandelier fell from the dining hall, taking a large portion of the ceiling with it. How embarrassing, if such a thing is true.

In its present state, it straddles the line between the old and new. The large, prominent rooms are ostentatious as they are filled to the brim with austere English culture; the smaller quarters, traditionally used by the servants and staff, are far more modest, and over time have allowed the tendrils of modernity to creep in as a result. Regardless, the home is impressive no matter how you look at it, and there are few who do not cast an envious glance at the estate as they pass by Derbyshire on their way to town, or perhaps northwest to Manchester, if they've even farther to go.

PHILIP AND JAMES AUBEL, father and son respectively, are the owners of the home, though only the father remains for any extended period of time. And even then, he only stays perhaps one or two seasons at a time, until he returns to his home in London, spending one or two seasons there, before returning again, living out his life of retirement to the fullest. James visits nearly every week (driving in from Manchester, and back) in the Spring, until the first freeze of Winter, when nothing will grow. Though they have a staff of two dozen -- give or take, depending upon the time of year -- taking care of the estate and its grounds, James is more diligent about keeping up appearances of the house, showing a special interest in maintaining the complex hedge maze on the land directly behind them. Only he keeps access to its center, a literal walled garden of seasonal flora.

AS RECENT DEVELOPMENTS WOULD HAVE IT, James has been drawn into an arranged marriage by his father and an old business acquaintance. She is scheduled for an extended visit soon, and the staff have done a meticulous job of preparing the hall for her arrival -- and the rest of the rooms, as well, if she is expected to make her living here permanent, one day. Today, the weather is clear and the help is eager to aid her in unpacking. The grounds are green and the family dog, an old greyhound with cataracts in one eye, bounds up to her with a slow wagging tail. The father will greet her, of course, with all the usual formalities, and though he doesn't know her all that well at all, she at least seems nice enough. He disappears soon after, leaving her to her own devices as she sees fit. James himself is nowhere to be found.

Somewhere, sooner rather than later, a collision course of first impressions will take place.

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D I R E C T O R Y;

➤ shitpost.
➤ first impressions.
➤ diamonds.
➤ text her, texter.
➤ saviour.
➤ flirt.
➤ closer.
➤ cross-examine.
➤ PARTY CRASHERS.
✶ elle + devon
✶ elle + corvus
✶ ian + james + corvus
✶ devon + james
➤ alien abduction.
➤ sleep now.
➤ bathe.
➤ remember.
➤ drink.
➤ welcome home.

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[Her moan echoes across the tile, and James quickly decides that he very much enjoys the sound of it.

And unlike before, her hands come to rest on him now, slowly massaging his shoulders, then down his arms. The water is warm, but James has to fight back a shudder that threatens to travel down his spine at her touch. Her closeness is inviting, and he presses against her just a little more -- close enough to move his lips up to her earlobe, still teasing, nibbling.

He stops just long enough to say in a breathy half-whisper,] Still nervous?

[How is it possible all of this felt so good? All of his movements were essentially gentle, but there was a weight to it that causes more excitement than she expected. And when she feels her earlobe being nibbled on Devon lets out a small gasp and bites down on her lip slightly to muffle the rest of it.

His question gets through to her as her hands find their way to his chest and she speaks, her voice sounding more airy, dream-like even.]

Yeah, but...

[She finds it in herself to return some of his teasing with a kiss against his jawline as her hands move to his back, drawing him closer so her body can press up against his.]

I'm okay. I'm nervous, but... It's good. I feel good.

I'm glad y- [you're feeling good, I can make you feel even better, is what he had planned on saying. But then he feels her lips at his jawline, and it's the fist time he's been kissed like that by her (a teasing, a heat) and his words fail him. He sets his jaw, biting back a groan that would have sounded embarrassing -- he's not so eager to let such noises slip from his throat. Not quite yet.

(She may be able to tell how his breath hitches in his throat, though, the way his heart beats just a little faster.)

Their bodies are close, now, there's no space left between them. His hand that isn't at her back slides under the surface of the water, and finds purchase on her torso. He takes in her curves as she kisses at his jawline, fingers sliding down and lightly pressing against her hip.]

[She was in the middle of moving her lips down his neck (because she can feel his heartbeat, she can tell he was holding back an intriguing noise, delighted that she's the cause of it), but when he presses against her hip, there's a shudder that causes the water around them to ripple.]

Nn.

[This was uncharted territory now. The kissing, the teasing, she understands and enjoys, but this was admittedly nerve wrecking. But Devon wants to move forward. And she speaks up so James can know.]

Keep touching me.

[Beneath his fingertips, that shudder is felt very clearly, and he knows it's because his hand has travelled lower, to territory unfamiliar to her. The thought that he's the first is exciting, it's indescribably sexy; at her bidding, both of his hands move to linger on her sides, moving up this time. Up, past her breasts, to her shoulders, hesitating, then back down all over again.

And then he asks, low but audible:]

Where do you want to be touched, Devon? Tell me.

[Her body writhes ever so slightly as his hands travel all over, her breathing becoming more hurried. The water seems to help steady her because Devon feels as if she'd faint if there was absolutely nothing in between for what she's about to do next. She takes one of his hands by the wrist and drags it under water so that it's right on her thigh, between her legs.]

Here. Closer than that... Please?

[She adds that on the end, a clear sign of her wanting more even beyond that.]

[When his wrist is pulled and dragged under the water, James has an inkling he already knows where this is going. And when she tells him -- no, shows him -- where the hungriest ache is, god, a part of him just wants her so badly.

But he relents, his resolve made of sterner stuff for now; he's eager to please her, to give her exactly what she wants. He wants to hear Devon moan his name.

And so his hand moves between her legs, his fingers gentle against her womanhood. He does as he's asked. He touches her, he absolutely relishes her, and his eyes keep on her face, to drink in her reaction.]

[The sensation of his fingers-- James' fingers -- rubbing against her is unreal. Gentle as it is, it's jolt after jolt of pleasure with every touch, every stroke. She's quivering, hands on his shoulders as she's aroused further and further and she loses control over her voice.]

J..James...

[Devon squeezes her eyes shut trying to slow herself down. To make sure she's not tempted to press her thighs together and trap his fingers within her and contain the blaze by accepting the softness, the gentle touch. Slowly, slowly... She buries her face into his shoulder as her hips move slightly in response to his fingers. Dangerous.]

[When Devon grinds against his hand, pressed up against him like, that makes it a bit harder to bite back his lust, something rising in him like a wave, like a storm. Her expression -- eyes squeezed shut and moaning his name -- is enough to drive him absolutely mad. He can't help but make a satisfied noise at seeing her this way, cheeks flushed and, as her body is telling him, wanting him.

(And it's not like his arousal can be hidden, with their bodies this close to each other. She can probably tell that he's embarrassingly hard now -- well, if James were the type to be embarrassed about that sort of thing, in these sort of situations.)

Still, he continues. He even slips a finger inside of her, rubbing her with the inside of his palm, and unfairly chooses to ask a question at the same time. His voice is laced with lust, and some of it might even be eking past his usually controlled mental boundaries, and leaking over to her.]

How much do you want this?

[He doesn't ask to tease, though the breathy way he utters those words might make it appear otherwise. He simply wants to know if her mind is screaming for the same thing as her body, if she's actually wanting more, or just losing herself in this moment.]

Edited 2016-12-11 22:32 (UTC)

[She can feel his hardness, a slight brush against her leg since they're so close, but Devon's at a loss for any words because she lets out a shocked cry when his finger penetrates her and his palm continues to rub her. The sheer pleasure it's causing her, just from the heavy petting, is agonizing. Matters are not helped when James speaks, his voice full of lust and urgency and it feels like it surrounds her. His voice, his touch, that is the world she's trapped in right now and it's distressing in its unfamiliarity and rapturous in its thrill as she discovers how much she indulges in all of these sensations.

It's unfair how she can't say anything with how he's manipulating her in such an intoxicating way. Of course she wants more, of course she wants him, of course. But Devon somehow finds her voice in the middle of it all, attempting to lift herself up, sitting on her knees as water drips off of her torso (and she's started to close her thighs together keeping James there inside her because God, she doesn't want the feeling to stop.]

J... James?

[Another moan escapes before she tries again to answer, panting heavily in between.]

I... If... If we get out...

Edited 2016-12-12 00:40 (UTC)

[His hand doesn't move, even when she sits up. Water rolls down her torso, soft bubbles cling to her body; was she trying to make him lose it, he wonders?

No matter. He leans forward, planting hungry kisses on her midsection, his hand till stroking, his finger still feeling the inside of her. When she begins to speak, he can't help but lightly tease her skin with his teeth; and then he gazes up at her, compelling her to finish her thought, even though he makes it so difficult for her.]

If we get out...? Then what?

Then it's going to be... Nn!

[She bites back another moan as he kisses her body-- was that teeth? Devon doesn't know how much more she can handle that at this point, she might collapse, but her restlessness is aiding her, compelling her to listen to her hunger, to take in more than just his finger inside her, that they have more than enough time together and that every single second, she should cling to him and let James...

A shuddering sigh emits from Devon and she strokes his chest with her fingers, attempting to keep her voice steady.]

It's going to be cold if we get out.

[Her forehead leans on his and she stares directly into his beautiful eyes, burning her gaze into his.]

Would you be able to keep me warm?

[When her forehead meets his and she looks into his eyes, that gaze could kill him, it reflects his own intensity so clearly, and he would die a happy man.

Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships?

He removes his hand from her, and it moves to grasp the edge of the tub instead.]

Yes.

God, yes.

[When he removes himself from her, Devon reaches for the towel behind her and wraps it around her torso.]

Good.

[Devon plants heated kiss on his lips before she steps out of the tub and goes for the door towards her bed.]

[And he allows himself a grin, pulling himself out of the water. It drips down his body, and he grabs a towel on the way out, hastily drying off as he walks.

He doesn't bother wrapping it around his torso, though, as he follows. It's not like it would stay there for much longer.]

[When he gets to her bed, she's already sitting down with her towel already slipping off. Now that they've touched each other, Devon is past the hurdle of initial shame and embarrassment of simple nudity. She's moving out of instinct and need and the moment James approaches her, she immediately grabs his wrist so she can give him another passionate and hungry kiss.]

[He has half a mind to remove her towel himself, but it seems that he doesn't need to. Pulled close to her, he indulges her in the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth, enjoying how she tastes.

And then James takes a bit more initiative, grabbing her gently by the shoulders and pushing her down on the bed. Skin on skin, he can't help but grind against Devon a little, even as he continues to kiss her.]

[She tastes him in return, her tongue shyly exploring at first, but then she allows the warmth to take over, for the heat to increase between them as if it hadn't reached an overflow already. Everything has gone by in a whirl, everything they've been through culminating into this is more than Devon feels she deserves. But in the here and now, she embraces him, on her back with him above her, her hands on his face as they kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds against her.

She was the one who said it didn't she? That when they reached a point of understanding each other, they would hold each other like this. Devon understands now. She understands that James was flawed that at first she did not think there would be room for him in her world, that she later wanted to create a life of happiness with him, that he wanted to keep her safe and loved in return, that it was all real and not just some dream.]

Edited 2016-12-12 02:38 (UTC)

[The fact that this is happening feels like something out a dream for him. Not because it's been so long (but god, it has), but because this is her. Everything about her now, about this very moment, was perfect. It was almost to good to be true, and some small part of him is afraid he's going to wake up and realize none of this even was happening.

But it was, wasn't it? He can taste her, he can feel her writhe beneath him. The heat of their bodies pressing together, her moaning. His moans, escaping from him in full finally, as he moves his hips against her.

His hand travels down again, past her hip, down her thigh. He moves his kisses down to her collarbone, and the sensation of his teeth on her skin would be felt by her, once more.]

[She's lost all sense of time the moment he had touched her in the bath and they started to lose themselves in each other. She wants to swear when he stops kissing her lips and each kiss on her collarbone and the feeling of his teeth electrify her.

Her fingers fun through his hair and as he grinds against her, and her breathing grows in its desperateness.]

J... James... I'm... You're warm.

[Those words come out with great difficulty, but it's the only thing she can think of to voice her affection.]

Edited 2016-12-12 03:21 (UTC)

And you're beautiful. [His response comes almost immediately, and it's weighted equally in sincerity and lust.

He can tell she's growing desperate by her breathing. He has, too, and finally, he lifts himself off of her only slightly, enough to lock eyes with Devon. His eyes search her face, and the hand on her thigh gently pushes to spread her legs apart for him.

He knows it'll be her first time. He wants to temper his eagerness -- his hunger, grown so much over the years -- with a conscientiousness. He wants it to be perfect for her. After everything, she deserves it, and he wants her to know how precious she is to him.]

I love you, Devon.

[It's almost too much.

The words flood her ears and her heart could have stopped working right there and she wouldn't notice. Something wet trickles from the corner of her eye instead and it's a single tear that slides down her cheek. Devon is overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the desire they share, by his love, his declaration, the fact that it's real, that he's waited, and unknowingly so was she.

Devon covers her mouth at first to try and control her tears and when she's able to tell she won't lose it, she smiles at James, one hand reaching up to stroke his cheeks and then fingers brush against his lips.]

And you're a bit much.

[Even in this moment is she able to joke around. But she follows it with a tantalizing whisper.]

And that's why I love you, James.

Edited 2016-12-12 03:54 (UTC)

[At her joking, even he cannot help but grin. He feels an undeniable sort of happiness, and when her lips brush his own, and she returns the sentiment to him, he moves a stray lock of hair from her face. His fingers brush her cheek, lightly, fondly, looking into her eyes still glistening from tears.

No other words need to be said at this point.

He straightens just enough to situate himself between her legs, and in one motion, he guides himself into her. It's slow, gentle at first. Despite himself, despite the lust that practically radiates off of him, he takes him time, for her sake.]

[It definitely hurts at the start.

Devon had braced herself, but it was an unfamiliar feeling, being penetrated. She wraps her arms around James' shoulders, burying her face into him so that her cry is muffled in order to to endure her first time. It's almost uncomfortable at least for a minute or two before it settles into something more enticing and stimulating.

Their joining is pulsating, throbbing, alive. And her initial pain is something that fades away and she feels herself moving her hips, trying to make sense of this newness in her body.]

Edited 2016-12-12 04:51 (UTC)

[He keeps her close; despite trying to take it slow, he would be naive to believe that she wouldn't feel any pain. He lowers his chin into her hair as she endures the discomfort, and all he can do is guide her through it, ease her out of it.

And so he moves against her, slowly. James' own ache for her throbs and screams for more, but he wills himself to be patient, and eventually, he can feel Devon moving with him. He matches his rhythm with hers, and with time, his thrusting becomes a little more eager, his breathing a little more ragged.

He closes his eyes, willing his body control. Willing himself focus in the sparks of pleasure coursing through his body. It's been so long.]

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