Part 36: link
Evening gives over to night, and passers-by look with interest through the front windows, mainly at the small group conversing in the leather chairs in the front. Annis has been talking animatedly with Arthur and Gwaine, and the trio make an interesting sight: the older woman, distinguished if a little Bohemian, completely engrossed in conversation with the two punks, who are equally absorbed. Add Guinevere’s sweet form in her red dress, now perched on the arm of Arthur’s chair, his arm around her waist, and people stare as they pass.
Fifteen phút before closing, an older man walks in. Gwen looks up at the sound of another patron, glances at him, then turns back to the conversation.
She sees him out of the corner of her eye, though, stopping deliberately in front of each work, studying each one carefully. This unusual scrutiny draws her attention and she leans over, plants a Kiss on the side of Arthur’s head and stands, slowly circulating, watching the man, interested.
Behind her she hears Gwaine’s laughter as he points out the màu hồng, hồng lipstick mark on the side of Arthur’s skull, accompanied bởi his remarking on what a striking tattoo that would make. She rolls her eyes, amused, but turns her attention back to the visitor.
Distinguished. Well-dressed. Salt-and-pepper hair. Handsome; hoặc was, in his youth. She circles around, curious. Is he another art dealer? Some well-connected patron of the arts?
She glances back at Arthur and the other two. Annis now has Gwaine’s hand in hers and is inspecting the massive Celtic tattoo, while Arthur is unbuttoning his áo sơ mi a just enough to hiển thị her his. Gwen chuckles and looks back to the stranger, who has stopped moving.
He is studying a painting, lingering over it longer than the others. The storm painting, Gwen notes. One of her favorites, dark and spooky and beautiful.
“Is this painting spoken for yet?” the man asks suddenly but quietly as she slowly approaches.
“No, this is one of the few yet un-sold, sir,” she says, walking forward.
“I should like to buy it,” he says simply, turning to look at her fully. This is the girl that he was holding in the chair. She’s… lovely. Normal. Normal looking, anyway.
“Oh! That’s wonderful, sir, I know Ar— Drag will appreciate that very much,” she says.
Her stumbling over his name is not Mất tích on the man, but he simply nods. He allows her to call him Arthur. Interesting.
“Would bạn like to meet him? I’m sure I could persuade him to come over for a minute,” she offers, gesturing towards where he is sitting in the window, still busy with Gwaine and Annis. Annis is now leaning over Arthur, peering at the dragon inked on his shoulder as best she can, assuring him that he does not need to take his áo sơ mi off.
“I am certain that bạn could, my dear, but it is not necessary, thank you,” he says with a smile that somehow looks sad.
“Oh. Um, all right. I’ll just go have Lance see to the sale, and bạn may come to the bàn when bạn are ready, then.”
He glances around the room, eyes falling briefly on the painting of Gwen’s back, seated amongst the giường sheets, her hair spilling over one shoulder. Arthur’s favorite. He looks back at her, then back to the painting, then to her again. She blushes and bites her lip, looking to the side. The man peers at a small piece of paper tacked to the tường tiếp theo to it with the words “Not for sale” scrawled on it bởi what is surely Arthur’s hand.
“I am ready now, thank you,” he says, accompanying her to the desk, where Lance is waiting.
As Lance takes care of the purchase and arranges delivery, Merlin wanders over to talk to Gwen. The man turns to leave and Merlin ducks behind a pillar until he passes.
He strides purposefully out of the gallery, and Lance follows presently to lock the door behind him, as the only people left are the six of them.
“Gwen,” Merlin says quietly, motioning her over.
“Yes?” she turns.
“Do bạn know who that was?” he asks.
“No,” she shrugs. “He bought the storm painting.”
“I’m not surprised,” Merlin says. “That tree, that landscape? That’s the view from the front of his summer house.”
“What?” Gwen asks, confused.
“That was Arthur’s father.”
“Lance, this was truly a triumphant opening,” Annis declares, standing, readying to leave. “Excellent for your gallery and for young Drag, here.”
“Thank you, Annis, I cannot say how pleased I am that bạn decided to attend,” Lance says, clasping her hands between his.
“Drag,” she turns, “I will be in touch. I have your number and Gwen has my card.” She surveys the gallery one last time. “Yes,” she nods, almost to herself, “these are good.”
“Annis, I cannot thank bạn enough,” Arthur says, hugging her impulsively.
“Now, now, I haven’t done anything yet. Well, except purchase half your paintings, of course,” she laughs. “But I am tired and I have many calls to make tomorrow morning, so if bạn will excuse me, I need to go home. Oh, and I loved the tiny chili dogs, bởi the way. It was quite refreshing having real thực phẩm at one of these things for a change.”
Arthur grins triumphantly at Lance, who scowls. Gwen laughs at them both, and steps phía trước, chuyển tiếp to say goodbye to Annis.
“Thank you, Annis, have a good night,” Gwen says.
Annis squeezes her hand. “Look after him,” she says. “He loves bạn very much.”
“I will, and I know,” Gwen smiles and blushes, looking down.
“Gwaine, my pet,” she turns, and hands him a card. “I will be in touch about adverts. I tình yêu your flyers for this show, and I haven’t been happy with the ad company I’ve been using.”
“Excellent,” he grins, staring at the card. “Oh,” he says, remembering. He fishes his wallet out of his pocket and withdraws a slightly worn-looking card of his own and hands it to her. “Sorry it’s a little, um, bent.”
Annis chuckles and tucks his card into her purse. “Quite all right, never mind,” she says. “Gentlemen,” she nods to them, “Gwen; goodnight.”
Lance walks with her to the door and unlocks it for her, then locks it again behind her.
“That went well,” he says casually, sauntering towards the others. “Pub?”
Merlin and Gwaine are game, but Gwen is exhausted.
“You lads go on ahead. We’re going to go home,” Arthur says, taking Gwen’s hand.
“Right,” Gwaine nods, smirking knowingly.
“Piss off, you,” Arthur says casually, walking back to retrieve their bag from the office.
“Lance, thank bạn so much, this was all so brilliant,” Gwen tells him.
“Well, it’s not really over, bạn know. He’ll be on display here for the tiếp theo two weeks,” he smiles. “Gwen?” he asks, glancing quickly at the back. “That last man that came in? I think he was—”
“Arthur’s father, yes. Merlin told me. I didn’t know.”
“I’m confused.”
“Uther disowned him,” Merlin says simply.
“Why?”
“I’ll tell bạn later,” Merlin các câu trả lời as he hears the distant flush of a toilet and figures Arthur will be reappearing soon. “Gwen, are bạn going to tell him?”
“That his father came and bought a painting?”
Merlin nods.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Ready, my love?” Arthur asks, striding forward.
“Could not be thêm ready,” she answers, sighing.
“Have a good time at the pub, lads,” Arthur says outside, as he and Gwen go to her car and the other three head the opposite way.
“We will, but I’ll wager you’ll have more…” Gwaine calls back. This time Arthur just laughs.
“Arthur,” Gwen says, “let’s go to your flat.”
“What?” he asks, starting the car and pulling out into the sparse late-night traffic.
“Well, you’ve been neglecting Iggy,” she says, determined to make him admit that he’s slowly been moving in with her.
“We could pick him up and take him to your flat,” Arthur suggests, trying to sound casual, eyes carefully on the road.
Got him. “Arthur, if bạn want to di chuyển in with me, just ask,” she finally says, looking at him.
He is silent for a minute, choosing his tiếp theo words carefully. “May I?” he asks quietly.
“Yes, Arthur. bạn may.”
He grins then, pulling her car in front of his flat and parking it. He reaches over to her and kisses her there in the car, his hand caressing her face, his thumb on her cheek and his fingers on her neck.
“You’ve already got half your stuff there, anyway,” she teases, her eyes twinkling.
“You noticed, huh?”
“Kind of hard not to,” she says, kissing his nose. “Let’s go get Iggy, then.”
“Yes, baby, this is your new home,” Gwen coos to Iggy as she carries him inside. He meows, she kisses him between his ears and sets him down.
Arthur trudges in behind her with the cat box and a few other things. “Where do bạn want this?”
“Loo, I guess,” she shrugs. He heads back with the box and the sack of litter to go set it up.
I need to tell him about his father, Gwen thinks. I just don’t know how to bring it up. She sits and removes her shoes, unwinding the long ties from around her legs, noting the slight marks left there.
“Be right back,” Arthur says, heading back out to her car for the cat thực phẩm and Iggy’s bed.
“What do bạn think?” she asks Iggy, who has trotted over to bat at the ties of her sandals. “Why am I asking you? No, no, do not eat,” she says, picking the sandals up now to put them away. She hears Arthur come back in and lock the door behind him.
I’ll have to get him a key, she thinks idly.
“I’ll call my landlord on Monday and give notice,” she hears him call from the kitchen.
“Okay,” she các câu trả lời back, undressing now, still mulling things over.
“Guinevere, I think today was quite likely the best ngày of my life, and I owe it all to you, my love,” Arthur announces as he strides into the bedroom. He sees her hanging her dress up, clad only in her knickers.
“Strike that,” he says, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her. “Today is definitely the best ngày of my life.” He kisses her neck, his hands caressing her stomach, her breasts.
She sighs against him, his touch hypnotic as always. Then she remembers what she wanted to tell him. But he is in such a good mood, I hate to ruin it.
Arthur’s lips skim over the skin of her neck and she turns around in his arms, pressing her lips to his, her tongue sliding in between his lips while her fingers unbutton his shirt.
“Arthur, your talent got bạn the show,” she says, pulling her lips away and sliding his áo sơ mi from his shoulders. “All I did was hiển thị your work to the right person.”
“You are too modest,” he argues, pulling her to the giường and opening his trousers, walking his way out of them.
They tumble to the bed, and Arthur removes her knickers, sliding them down over her hips and legs and tossing them aside. He drops down beside her, trailing his fingers along her torso.
“God, I tình yêu you,” he whispers, kissing her again.
Gwen reaches her hand up to his head, cradling his face, rubbing his earlobe gently between her thumb and forefinger. “I tình yêu you, too,” she các câu trả lời back, leaning her head back as he kisses down her neck.
Arthur’s hand finds one breast, his lips, the other. As he teases her nipples to stiff peaks with his tongue and his fingers, he cannot help but notice that she seems distracted. She’s quieter than usual. Her hands aren’t as busy as usual.
“Guinevere, what is troubling you, Sweet?” he asks, lifting his head to look at her.
“Nothing, Arthur,” she says, “I’m just a bit tired.”
“Guinevere…”
She sighs. “I don’t want to put a damper on your day.”
He rolls to the side, pulling her into the vòng tròn of his arms. “So something is troubling you, then.”
“Arthur,” she starts hesitantly, “do bạn remember when bạn were talking with Gwaine and Annis and I left? When I kissed your head and Gwaine đã đưa ý kiến it would make a—”
“A nice tattoo, yes.”
“Um, your father came in.”
“What?” he sits up. “Why didn’t bạn tell me he was there?”
“I didn’t know it was him until after he left, Arthur. I had no idea.”
“I know,” he sighs. “You’ve never seen him. He wouldn’t have được trao his name.”
“Merlin told me after he left. He only just spotted him.”
“Hmm.”
“He bought a painting.”
“The storm,” Arthur guesses, lying back down.
“How did bạn know?”
Arthur says nothing, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling.
“Arthur, please talk to me.”
“That storm happened when I was about eight. Summer home. It was huge. My father loved storms.”
She lies quietly beside him, listening.
“He stood on the front porch watching it approach. I went out and stood with him a few minutes, fascinated bởi the màu sắc and shapes in the clouds. I had never seen orange clouds before.”
“You had your artist’s eyes even back then,” she says, smiling.
“Yes, I think that was the first time I realized it. I didn’t paint the picture until 15 years later, and the image was just as vivid in my mind. It was like I was standing on the porch again.”
“I can only imagine what that would have looked like for real.”
“It was literally awesome. I stood there with him, and he actually reached over and put his hand on my shoulder.”
“Oh.”
“For him, that was the equivalent of a hug.”
Gwen caresses his chest, sliding her hand across to squeeze him.
“Then the wind picked up and the rain started coming down in sheets. One huge bolt of lighting and an extraordinarily loud crack of thunder sent me scurrying into the house, where Mo and I rode out the storm huddled together, wrapped in a quilt, underneath the dining room table.”
Gwen can picture the two of them and the image is so sweet she cannot help but smile. “What did your father do?”
“He stayed out on the patio watching the storm rage around him. When he came back in, Morgana and I had fallen asleep.”
Arthur is quiet for a few minutes, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger absentmindedly.
“Are bạn okay?” Gwen asks quietly.
“Just… wondering what he’s playing at. Why did he come?”
“Maybe he’s ready to reconcile,” she says, but then she remembers that he didn’t want to see Arthur. That won’t be necessary, he had said. At the time she had thought it a curious choice of words, but considering she had asked him if he wanted to meet Arthur, suddenly his response makes sense.
“Doubtful. I’m also going to kill my sister.”
“You think she sent him a flyer?”
“I know she sent him a flyer.”
“Don’t kill her, Arthur. She’s proud of you, and she wanted to share her joy with your father. Who knows, maybe she did it to rub his nose in your success; success bạn achieved without his help.”
“Hmm,” he các câu trả lời noncommittally.
“I’m sorry I wrecked your day,” she says sadly, tucking her head into his chest.
“You didn’t, Love. I’m glad bạn told me,” he says, gently tilting her face back up.
“I was going to wait until after…”
“You were too distracted bởi it,” he smirks at her.
“Sorry.”
“For what? The night is young.” He bends his head and kisses her. “Nothing to wake up for tomorrow morning.” He kisses her again. “Iggy won’t need seeing to, because he’s here.” Again. “And if anyone put a đám mây over the evening, it was my father,” another kiss, “not you.”
He kisses her deeply now, pulling her over him, bringing her face up closer to his. “And I’m done talking about him, anyway,” he declares, sliding his hand down her back to squeeze her backside.
He can really shift gears fast, she can’t help thinking, losing herself in his kiss, sliding her hands up to cup his face, stroke his cheeks with her thumbs.
Gwen nibbles his lips, pulling his full lower lip in between her teeth and sucking on it, tugging on it, before releasing it to slide her tongue down the side of his neck, tracing the tendons. She slides her body down over his slightly, kissing his chest, teasing his nipples with her tongue as she presses her stomach against his hardness.
“Guinevere,” he sighs her name, and she hums in the back of her throat at the sound of it, amazed that its effect on her hasn’t lessened.
His voice saying my name still turns me to jelly.
She kisses his stomach before grasping his shaft in her hand, feathering her lips along its length.
“God…” he groans, his hand groping for her, but her body is too low, so he brushes his fingertips against her cheek.
She smiles and places gentle kisses on his manhood, wrapping her hand around its base and squeezing lightly.
“I want to touch you,” he says, his voice rough. She slides her body around so he can reach her, his hand sliding along her thigh, skimming his hand up and around, reaching in between just as she plunges the length of him in her mouth.
Arthur’s fingers slip between her folds, sliding and caressing her moist warmth, groaning as she works her mouth on him, her lips and tongue sucking and swirling expertly. He slides a finger into her, and she moans against him.
“Oh,” she pulls away from him a moment, then dives back in, her hand working with her mouth.
“Guinevere…” he gasps, needing her to stop, but kind of wanting her to not. He removes his fingers from her and grips her hip, hoping that she’ll understand, because he doesn’t seem to be able to finish his sentence.
She understands and releases him, kissing the tip gently one last time before rotating her body, bringing her face back up to his.
She kisses him and says, “I’m surprised bạn didn’t grab my foot, actually.”
“Oh, shit…” he answers, chuckling, “I didn’t even think…”
“Wow, you’re losing it,” she laughs at him, capturing his lips again.
Arthur just growls and flips her over, climbing over her, prowling across her body. He takes a breast in his mouth, flicking his tongue over her nipple as he drops his hand to again touch her, moving his fingers in unison with his tongue.
“Arth…” his name dies on her lips as she grips the sheets in her hands. “Please…”
He bites her nipple just lightly and she cries out, begging for him again, and this time he complies, thrusting phía trước, chuyển tiếp into her waiting warmth, burying himself deep and stilling, just savoring this moment, the moment where they are as close as two people can be, the moment where the entire world melts away and it is just the two of them; she becomes his world and he becomes hers.
Arthur kisses her then, slowly, sweetly, pouring all his tình yêu for her into this kiss. He starts to di chuyển now, nhanh, swift and gentle, like he did that first morning on her sofa.
Gwen sighs and skims her hands across his chest, spreading them outward and around, under his arms, to hold his back, her fingers splaying as she feels the broad flat muscles working beneath his skin.
He speeds up when he feels her fingernails dig into his skin. He opens his eyes to see her shimmering lips parted, her eyes closed, her beautiful skin flushed. His hand finds her breast; her leg finds his hip.
“Oh…” she moans, arching, pulling him closer, driving him faster. He leans over her, acquiescing to her demands, and she digs her nails in again and kisses his neck. A moment later he feels her teeth on his shoulder, biting as she whimpers.
“More, Arthur.”
“Okay,” he gasps, moving slightly faster and a lot harder.
“Yes…”
He keeps it up, driving, their bodies becoming slightly slippery with the light coating of sweat forming. She releases her grip on his shoulders and reaches for his hands, threading their fingers together, allowing him to press back on them, pinning them on the bed.
She is crying out now as she unravels beneath him, squeezing his hands, her leg squeezing his hip, and he lets loose as well, releasing forcefully into her with a strangled, “G—”
Arthur drops over her, scooting low enough to rest his head on her chest, their hands still joined at either side of her head.
He listens to her heartbeat, listens as it gradually slows, returns to its normal pace. He turns his face and kisses the không gian over her heart.
“You were amazing today, Guinevere,” he says finally, rolling off of her now and pulling her into his arms.
“I didn’t do anything. It was bạn who deserves all the praise.”
“You had everyone bạn spoke with eating out of your beautiful little hands.”
“So did you,” she counters. “You were very charming.”
“Yes, I was, wasn’t I?” he grins, and she swats his chest.
“It was a good show. And Annis seems really great,” Gwen says, cuddling against him, completely content.
“She is. She’s been in the business for a long time. She really knows a lot of people. Important people. But she’s completely down-to-earth. Nothing posh about her.”
“And she even seemed impressed with Gwaine and his work, which is great for him.”
Arthur shrugs. “It is. But it’s not like he needs the money.”
“What?” Gwen looks up, confused.
“Guinevere, have bạn ever heard him complain hoặc even say one word about money?”
“No, but I guess I never really paid attention to it. Doesn’t seem like something someone like him would really care about anyway.”
“Yeah. That’s because he and Phil have a whopping great inheritance.”
“Oh,” Gwen is surprised. She remembered hearing something about their parents dying, but that was all she knew.
“Their mother was a brilliant scientist. Chemist, actually. She invented Magic Wash. bạn know, that green stuff with the cartoon leprechaun on the bottle?”
“Really? I tình yêu that stuff. It cleans everything.”
“Yeah. She developed the formula and had the presence of mind to patent it before selling it to the Fyrien Corporation. Made a boatload of money.” Arthur trails his fingers along her side while he talks.
“Wow,” is all Gwen can think to say. “I did wonder how someone so young could own a business already.”
“Yeah, he’s got people to handle all the details that he doesn’t feel like bothering with. Like Pop; he handles a lot of his affairs.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Pop’s a brilliant man, really.”
“Fascinating. How did they die?”
“Plane crash. Gwaine was 18 and Phil was 17.”
“Wow,” Gwen repeats, putting her head back down on his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Arthur agrees. “It was rough.”
She settles in against him, turning, closing her eyes as he spoons up behind her, wrapping an arm around her.
“I always thought the leprechaun on the bottle looked like Gwaine,” Arthur says sleepily.
Part 38: link
Evening gives over to night, and passers-by look with interest through the front windows, mainly at the small group conversing in the leather chairs in the front. Annis has been talking animatedly with Arthur and Gwaine, and the trio make an interesting sight: the older woman, distinguished if a little Bohemian, completely engrossed in conversation with the two punks, who are equally absorbed. Add Guinevere’s sweet form in her red dress, now perched on the arm of Arthur’s chair, his arm around her waist, and people stare as they pass.
Fifteen phút before closing, an older man walks in. Gwen looks up at the sound of another patron, glances at him, then turns back to the conversation.
She sees him out of the corner of her eye, though, stopping deliberately in front of each work, studying each one carefully. This unusual scrutiny draws her attention and she leans over, plants a Kiss on the side of Arthur’s head and stands, slowly circulating, watching the man, interested.
Behind her she hears Gwaine’s laughter as he points out the màu hồng, hồng lipstick mark on the side of Arthur’s skull, accompanied bởi his remarking on what a striking tattoo that would make. She rolls her eyes, amused, but turns her attention back to the visitor.
Distinguished. Well-dressed. Salt-and-pepper hair. Handsome; hoặc was, in his youth. She circles around, curious. Is he another art dealer? Some well-connected patron of the arts?
She glances back at Arthur and the other two. Annis now has Gwaine’s hand in hers and is inspecting the massive Celtic tattoo, while Arthur is unbuttoning his áo sơ mi a just enough to hiển thị her his. Gwen chuckles and looks back to the stranger, who has stopped moving.
He is studying a painting, lingering over it longer than the others. The storm painting, Gwen notes. One of her favorites, dark and spooky and beautiful.
“Is this painting spoken for yet?” the man asks suddenly but quietly as she slowly approaches.
“No, this is one of the few yet un-sold, sir,” she says, walking forward.
“I should like to buy it,” he says simply, turning to look at her fully. This is the girl that he was holding in the chair. She’s… lovely. Normal. Normal looking, anyway.
“Oh! That’s wonderful, sir, I know Ar— Drag will appreciate that very much,” she says.
Her stumbling over his name is not Mất tích on the man, but he simply nods. He allows her to call him Arthur. Interesting.
“Would bạn like to meet him? I’m sure I could persuade him to come over for a minute,” she offers, gesturing towards where he is sitting in the window, still busy with Gwaine and Annis. Annis is now leaning over Arthur, peering at the dragon inked on his shoulder as best she can, assuring him that he does not need to take his áo sơ mi off.
“I am certain that bạn could, my dear, but it is not necessary, thank you,” he says with a smile that somehow looks sad.
“Oh. Um, all right. I’ll just go have Lance see to the sale, and bạn may come to the bàn when bạn are ready, then.”
He glances around the room, eyes falling briefly on the painting of Gwen’s back, seated amongst the giường sheets, her hair spilling over one shoulder. Arthur’s favorite. He looks back at her, then back to the painting, then to her again. She blushes and bites her lip, looking to the side. The man peers at a small piece of paper tacked to the tường tiếp theo to it with the words “Not for sale” scrawled on it bởi what is surely Arthur’s hand.
“I am ready now, thank you,” he says, accompanying her to the desk, where Lance is waiting.
As Lance takes care of the purchase and arranges delivery, Merlin wanders over to talk to Gwen. The man turns to leave and Merlin ducks behind a pillar until he passes.
He strides purposefully out of the gallery, and Lance follows presently to lock the door behind him, as the only people left are the six of them.
“Gwen,” Merlin says quietly, motioning her over.
“Yes?” she turns.
“Do bạn know who that was?” he asks.
“No,” she shrugs. “He bought the storm painting.”
“I’m not surprised,” Merlin says. “That tree, that landscape? That’s the view from the front of his summer house.”
“What?” Gwen asks, confused.
“That was Arthur’s father.”
“Lance, this was truly a triumphant opening,” Annis declares, standing, readying to leave. “Excellent for your gallery and for young Drag, here.”
“Thank you, Annis, I cannot say how pleased I am that bạn decided to attend,” Lance says, clasping her hands between his.
“Drag,” she turns, “I will be in touch. I have your number and Gwen has my card.” She surveys the gallery one last time. “Yes,” she nods, almost to herself, “these are good.”
“Annis, I cannot thank bạn enough,” Arthur says, hugging her impulsively.
“Now, now, I haven’t done anything yet. Well, except purchase half your paintings, of course,” she laughs. “But I am tired and I have many calls to make tomorrow morning, so if bạn will excuse me, I need to go home. Oh, and I loved the tiny chili dogs, bởi the way. It was quite refreshing having real thực phẩm at one of these things for a change.”
Arthur grins triumphantly at Lance, who scowls. Gwen laughs at them both, and steps phía trước, chuyển tiếp to say goodbye to Annis.
“Thank you, Annis, have a good night,” Gwen says.
Annis squeezes her hand. “Look after him,” she says. “He loves bạn very much.”
“I will, and I know,” Gwen smiles and blushes, looking down.
“Gwaine, my pet,” she turns, and hands him a card. “I will be in touch about adverts. I tình yêu your flyers for this show, and I haven’t been happy with the ad company I’ve been using.”
“Excellent,” he grins, staring at the card. “Oh,” he says, remembering. He fishes his wallet out of his pocket and withdraws a slightly worn-looking card of his own and hands it to her. “Sorry it’s a little, um, bent.”
Annis chuckles and tucks his card into her purse. “Quite all right, never mind,” she says. “Gentlemen,” she nods to them, “Gwen; goodnight.”
Lance walks with her to the door and unlocks it for her, then locks it again behind her.
“That went well,” he says casually, sauntering towards the others. “Pub?”
Merlin and Gwaine are game, but Gwen is exhausted.
“You lads go on ahead. We’re going to go home,” Arthur says, taking Gwen’s hand.
“Right,” Gwaine nods, smirking knowingly.
“Piss off, you,” Arthur says casually, walking back to retrieve their bag from the office.
“Lance, thank bạn so much, this was all so brilliant,” Gwen tells him.
“Well, it’s not really over, bạn know. He’ll be on display here for the tiếp theo two weeks,” he smiles. “Gwen?” he asks, glancing quickly at the back. “That last man that came in? I think he was—”
“Arthur’s father, yes. Merlin told me. I didn’t know.”
“I’m confused.”
“Uther disowned him,” Merlin says simply.
“Why?”
“I’ll tell bạn later,” Merlin các câu trả lời as he hears the distant flush of a toilet and figures Arthur will be reappearing soon. “Gwen, are bạn going to tell him?”
“That his father came and bought a painting?”
Merlin nods.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Ready, my love?” Arthur asks, striding forward.
“Could not be thêm ready,” she answers, sighing.
“Have a good time at the pub, lads,” Arthur says outside, as he and Gwen go to her car and the other three head the opposite way.
“We will, but I’ll wager you’ll have more…” Gwaine calls back. This time Arthur just laughs.
“Arthur,” Gwen says, “let’s go to your flat.”
“What?” he asks, starting the car and pulling out into the sparse late-night traffic.
“Well, you’ve been neglecting Iggy,” she says, determined to make him admit that he’s slowly been moving in with her.
“We could pick him up and take him to your flat,” Arthur suggests, trying to sound casual, eyes carefully on the road.
Got him. “Arthur, if bạn want to di chuyển in with me, just ask,” she finally says, looking at him.
He is silent for a minute, choosing his tiếp theo words carefully. “May I?” he asks quietly.
“Yes, Arthur. bạn may.”
He grins then, pulling her car in front of his flat and parking it. He reaches over to her and kisses her there in the car, his hand caressing her face, his thumb on her cheek and his fingers on her neck.
“You’ve already got half your stuff there, anyway,” she teases, her eyes twinkling.
“You noticed, huh?”
“Kind of hard not to,” she says, kissing his nose. “Let’s go get Iggy, then.”
“Yes, baby, this is your new home,” Gwen coos to Iggy as she carries him inside. He meows, she kisses him between his ears and sets him down.
Arthur trudges in behind her with the cat box and a few other things. “Where do bạn want this?”
“Loo, I guess,” she shrugs. He heads back with the box and the sack of litter to go set it up.
I need to tell him about his father, Gwen thinks. I just don’t know how to bring it up. She sits and removes her shoes, unwinding the long ties from around her legs, noting the slight marks left there.
“Be right back,” Arthur says, heading back out to her car for the cat thực phẩm and Iggy’s bed.
“What do bạn think?” she asks Iggy, who has trotted over to bat at the ties of her sandals. “Why am I asking you? No, no, do not eat,” she says, picking the sandals up now to put them away. She hears Arthur come back in and lock the door behind him.
I’ll have to get him a key, she thinks idly.
“I’ll call my landlord on Monday and give notice,” she hears him call from the kitchen.
“Okay,” she các câu trả lời back, undressing now, still mulling things over.
“Guinevere, I think today was quite likely the best ngày of my life, and I owe it all to you, my love,” Arthur announces as he strides into the bedroom. He sees her hanging her dress up, clad only in her knickers.
“Strike that,” he says, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her. “Today is definitely the best ngày of my life.” He kisses her neck, his hands caressing her stomach, her breasts.
She sighs against him, his touch hypnotic as always. Then she remembers what she wanted to tell him. But he is in such a good mood, I hate to ruin it.
Arthur’s lips skim over the skin of her neck and she turns around in his arms, pressing her lips to his, her tongue sliding in between his lips while her fingers unbutton his shirt.
“Arthur, your talent got bạn the show,” she says, pulling her lips away and sliding his áo sơ mi from his shoulders. “All I did was hiển thị your work to the right person.”
“You are too modest,” he argues, pulling her to the giường and opening his trousers, walking his way out of them.
They tumble to the bed, and Arthur removes her knickers, sliding them down over her hips and legs and tossing them aside. He drops down beside her, trailing his fingers along her torso.
“God, I tình yêu you,” he whispers, kissing her again.
Gwen reaches her hand up to his head, cradling his face, rubbing his earlobe gently between her thumb and forefinger. “I tình yêu you, too,” she các câu trả lời back, leaning her head back as he kisses down her neck.
Arthur’s hand finds one breast, his lips, the other. As he teases her nipples to stiff peaks with his tongue and his fingers, he cannot help but notice that she seems distracted. She’s quieter than usual. Her hands aren’t as busy as usual.
“Guinevere, what is troubling you, Sweet?” he asks, lifting his head to look at her.
“Nothing, Arthur,” she says, “I’m just a bit tired.”
“Guinevere…”
She sighs. “I don’t want to put a damper on your day.”
He rolls to the side, pulling her into the vòng tròn of his arms. “So something is troubling you, then.”
“Arthur,” she starts hesitantly, “do bạn remember when bạn were talking with Gwaine and Annis and I left? When I kissed your head and Gwaine đã đưa ý kiến it would make a—”
“A nice tattoo, yes.”
“Um, your father came in.”
“What?” he sits up. “Why didn’t bạn tell me he was there?”
“I didn’t know it was him until after he left, Arthur. I had no idea.”
“I know,” he sighs. “You’ve never seen him. He wouldn’t have được trao his name.”
“Merlin told me after he left. He only just spotted him.”
“Hmm.”
“He bought a painting.”
“The storm,” Arthur guesses, lying back down.
“How did bạn know?”
Arthur says nothing, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling.
“Arthur, please talk to me.”
“That storm happened when I was about eight. Summer home. It was huge. My father loved storms.”
She lies quietly beside him, listening.
“He stood on the front porch watching it approach. I went out and stood with him a few minutes, fascinated bởi the màu sắc and shapes in the clouds. I had never seen orange clouds before.”
“You had your artist’s eyes even back then,” she says, smiling.
“Yes, I think that was the first time I realized it. I didn’t paint the picture until 15 years later, and the image was just as vivid in my mind. It was like I was standing on the porch again.”
“I can only imagine what that would have looked like for real.”
“It was literally awesome. I stood there with him, and he actually reached over and put his hand on my shoulder.”
“Oh.”
“For him, that was the equivalent of a hug.”
Gwen caresses his chest, sliding her hand across to squeeze him.
“Then the wind picked up and the rain started coming down in sheets. One huge bolt of lighting and an extraordinarily loud crack of thunder sent me scurrying into the house, where Mo and I rode out the storm huddled together, wrapped in a quilt, underneath the dining room table.”
Gwen can picture the two of them and the image is so sweet she cannot help but smile. “What did your father do?”
“He stayed out on the patio watching the storm rage around him. When he came back in, Morgana and I had fallen asleep.”
Arthur is quiet for a few minutes, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger absentmindedly.
“Are bạn okay?” Gwen asks quietly.
“Just… wondering what he’s playing at. Why did he come?”
“Maybe he’s ready to reconcile,” she says, but then she remembers that he didn’t want to see Arthur. That won’t be necessary, he had said. At the time she had thought it a curious choice of words, but considering she had asked him if he wanted to meet Arthur, suddenly his response makes sense.
“Doubtful. I’m also going to kill my sister.”
“You think she sent him a flyer?”
“I know she sent him a flyer.”
“Don’t kill her, Arthur. She’s proud of you, and she wanted to share her joy with your father. Who knows, maybe she did it to rub his nose in your success; success bạn achieved without his help.”
“Hmm,” he các câu trả lời noncommittally.
“I’m sorry I wrecked your day,” she says sadly, tucking her head into his chest.
“You didn’t, Love. I’m glad bạn told me,” he says, gently tilting her face back up.
“I was going to wait until after…”
“You were too distracted bởi it,” he smirks at her.
“Sorry.”
“For what? The night is young.” He bends his head and kisses her. “Nothing to wake up for tomorrow morning.” He kisses her again. “Iggy won’t need seeing to, because he’s here.” Again. “And if anyone put a đám mây over the evening, it was my father,” another kiss, “not you.”
He kisses her deeply now, pulling her over him, bringing her face up closer to his. “And I’m done talking about him, anyway,” he declares, sliding his hand down her back to squeeze her backside.
He can really shift gears fast, she can’t help thinking, losing herself in his kiss, sliding her hands up to cup his face, stroke his cheeks with her thumbs.
Gwen nibbles his lips, pulling his full lower lip in between her teeth and sucking on it, tugging on it, before releasing it to slide her tongue down the side of his neck, tracing the tendons. She slides her body down over his slightly, kissing his chest, teasing his nipples with her tongue as she presses her stomach against his hardness.
“Guinevere,” he sighs her name, and she hums in the back of her throat at the sound of it, amazed that its effect on her hasn’t lessened.
His voice saying my name still turns me to jelly.
She kisses his stomach before grasping his shaft in her hand, feathering her lips along its length.
“God…” he groans, his hand groping for her, but her body is too low, so he brushes his fingertips against her cheek.
She smiles and places gentle kisses on his manhood, wrapping her hand around its base and squeezing lightly.
“I want to touch you,” he says, his voice rough. She slides her body around so he can reach her, his hand sliding along her thigh, skimming his hand up and around, reaching in between just as she plunges the length of him in her mouth.
Arthur’s fingers slip between her folds, sliding and caressing her moist warmth, groaning as she works her mouth on him, her lips and tongue sucking and swirling expertly. He slides a finger into her, and she moans against him.
“Oh,” she pulls away from him a moment, then dives back in, her hand working with her mouth.
“Guinevere…” he gasps, needing her to stop, but kind of wanting her to not. He removes his fingers from her and grips her hip, hoping that she’ll understand, because he doesn’t seem to be able to finish his sentence.
She understands and releases him, kissing the tip gently one last time before rotating her body, bringing her face back up to his.
She kisses him and says, “I’m surprised bạn didn’t grab my foot, actually.”
“Oh, shit…” he answers, chuckling, “I didn’t even think…”
“Wow, you’re losing it,” she laughs at him, capturing his lips again.
Arthur just growls and flips her over, climbing over her, prowling across her body. He takes a breast in his mouth, flicking his tongue over her nipple as he drops his hand to again touch her, moving his fingers in unison with his tongue.
“Arth…” his name dies on her lips as she grips the sheets in her hands. “Please…”
He bites her nipple just lightly and she cries out, begging for him again, and this time he complies, thrusting phía trước, chuyển tiếp into her waiting warmth, burying himself deep and stilling, just savoring this moment, the moment where they are as close as two people can be, the moment where the entire world melts away and it is just the two of them; she becomes his world and he becomes hers.
Arthur kisses her then, slowly, sweetly, pouring all his tình yêu for her into this kiss. He starts to di chuyển now, nhanh, swift and gentle, like he did that first morning on her sofa.
Gwen sighs and skims her hands across his chest, spreading them outward and around, under his arms, to hold his back, her fingers splaying as she feels the broad flat muscles working beneath his skin.
He speeds up when he feels her fingernails dig into his skin. He opens his eyes to see her shimmering lips parted, her eyes closed, her beautiful skin flushed. His hand finds her breast; her leg finds his hip.
“Oh…” she moans, arching, pulling him closer, driving him faster. He leans over her, acquiescing to her demands, and she digs her nails in again and kisses his neck. A moment later he feels her teeth on his shoulder, biting as she whimpers.
“More, Arthur.”
“Okay,” he gasps, moving slightly faster and a lot harder.
“Yes…”
He keeps it up, driving, their bodies becoming slightly slippery with the light coating of sweat forming. She releases her grip on his shoulders and reaches for his hands, threading their fingers together, allowing him to press back on them, pinning them on the bed.
She is crying out now as she unravels beneath him, squeezing his hands, her leg squeezing his hip, and he lets loose as well, releasing forcefully into her with a strangled, “G—”
Arthur drops over her, scooting low enough to rest his head on her chest, their hands still joined at either side of her head.
He listens to her heartbeat, listens as it gradually slows, returns to its normal pace. He turns his face and kisses the không gian over her heart.
“You were amazing today, Guinevere,” he says finally, rolling off of her now and pulling her into his arms.
“I didn’t do anything. It was bạn who deserves all the praise.”
“You had everyone bạn spoke with eating out of your beautiful little hands.”
“So did you,” she counters. “You were very charming.”
“Yes, I was, wasn’t I?” he grins, and she swats his chest.
“It was a good show. And Annis seems really great,” Gwen says, cuddling against him, completely content.
“She is. She’s been in the business for a long time. She really knows a lot of people. Important people. But she’s completely down-to-earth. Nothing posh about her.”
“And she even seemed impressed with Gwaine and his work, which is great for him.”
Arthur shrugs. “It is. But it’s not like he needs the money.”
“What?” Gwen looks up, confused.
“Guinevere, have bạn ever heard him complain hoặc even say one word about money?”
“No, but I guess I never really paid attention to it. Doesn’t seem like something someone like him would really care about anyway.”
“Yeah. That’s because he and Phil have a whopping great inheritance.”
“Oh,” Gwen is surprised. She remembered hearing something about their parents dying, but that was all she knew.
“Their mother was a brilliant scientist. Chemist, actually. She invented Magic Wash. bạn know, that green stuff with the cartoon leprechaun on the bottle?”
“Really? I tình yêu that stuff. It cleans everything.”
“Yeah. She developed the formula and had the presence of mind to patent it before selling it to the Fyrien Corporation. Made a boatload of money.” Arthur trails his fingers along her side while he talks.
“Wow,” is all Gwen can think to say. “I did wonder how someone so young could own a business already.”
“Yeah, he’s got people to handle all the details that he doesn’t feel like bothering with. Like Pop; he handles a lot of his affairs.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Pop’s a brilliant man, really.”
“Fascinating. How did they die?”
“Plane crash. Gwaine was 18 and Phil was 17.”
“Wow,” Gwen repeats, putting her head back down on his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Arthur agrees. “It was rough.”
She settles in against him, turning, closing her eyes as he spoons up behind her, wrapping an arm around her.
“I always thought the leprechaun on the bottle looked like Gwaine,” Arthur says sleepily.
Part 38: link
