A Lady or a Cock Whore? Ch. 07

Arya did, though, and while the idea of Shaela pleasuring Eric in such a way brought boiling rage to her heart, the image of herself taking him in her mouth brought boiling lust to her loins and it was soon all she could think about. Unfortunately, it wouldn't be the first time a man had had his cock there, but she knew that this time she would like it, and (despite how fucked up it made her feel to admit this) would welcome it even if he tried to force her the way the others had. Because accepting such "force" from him wouldn't feel like rape... It would feel more like she was becoming his.

After his rude departure this morning, Arya had initially been worried that perhaps he was angry with her, or angry that they had gone so far the night before; but deep down she knew that wasn't the case. She had seen true affection and joy in his eyes when he kissed her the night before, and he had demanded that she stay afterwards to fall asleep in his arms.

She held onto that feeling of closeness and warmth, believing optimistically that his bad mood today was influenced instead by Shaela or perhaps the business that drew him back to Veras, a city that she knew he despised as much as she did. So it was with very little inner conflict that she fantasized about him now, confident in the knowledge that she would be able to make the fantasy real very soon.

Perhaps even tomorrow night. I could sneak into his room and tell him I want him to come in my mouth, and he would moan in excitement...

And with that thought she came hard, whimpering his name into the pillow her face was pressed into.

She was surprised by how easy it was to fall asleep; she felt almost ashamed by her lack of shame regarding her sexual encounter with Eric, knowing that many other women would be wracked with guilt, embarrassment, and all sorts of negative emotions and self-judgments. But Arya couldn't feel bad about something that felt so good; her heart was not made for conflict. She chose to see things in a positive light, to trust herself and to trust him, and even if it led to her ruin, Arya strongly doubted that she would regret a single thing.

__________________________________________________________________

Eric's sleep was far less restful, and came in bursts and spurts throughout the night. Sex wasn't even on his mind as heavy emotions wrestled for control: despair and self-hatred warring with excitement and desire, sadness and distrust fighting with hope and love.

But over all of it lay a blanket of relief.

Visiting Sophie's grave had been a necessary but painful move. It had been over a year since he had visited the little cemetery, and he gathered armfuls of wildflowers to place reverently before the tombstone, hoping that she could forgive him for his neglect. He had cried unabashedly, like a child, curling up on top of where her body had been laid to rest, remembering when he had held her close and watched the life leave her.

But the tears lasted only a short while, and afterwards he felt a sense of catharsis. It was always like that, he noticed, when he allowed himself to cry. As "unmanly" as it was, a small part of him knew he needed it, and even appreciated the act for what it was.

Under the flowers he slipped a note, a letter that he had written before she died. He had been too afraid to give it to her until it was too late, but in this moment it felt right. He didn't want it sitting on his mantle anymore, haunting him every time he looked in that direction. It belonged with her, as it always had.

The note was short, scrawled in a messy hand and wrinkled where tears had fallen. It expressed his love, his admiration, and his respect for her, but was followed by a harsh truth: he had loved her, yes, but as a sister, as a friend, and as a person. He confessed that he was not in love with her, and that he hoped she could forgive him for what he could only view as deceit and cowardice. He had let everyone - including her - believe he loved her, that he would marry her, and Eric knew would have gone through with it simply because he didn't want to break her heart.

Reflecting on this decision, Eric knew that Arya was the reason for his motivation to finally give in to the truth, to finally face his lie, but he still didn't understand why. All he knew was that being around her made him want to do the right thing, and so he had.

When he arrived in Veras, evening had fallen. It was a warm night and people were out, and he took his time wandering the streets before taking a room at an inn. He would run his errand first thing in the morning and then return to her a voice intruded. -to home he sternly corrected it.

But the small whisper had already conjured an image in his mind of Arya on his estate, and an urgent desire bloomed to keep her there. He drove it away, too far in denial to realize that his growing love for her was another hard truth that he had yet to accept, and to confess.

__________________________________________________________________

Arya and Claire had a quiet morning. They decided to take a walk around the grounds, but stayed close to home as they waited for Eric to return from Veras. Their outing the day before had been lovely and well worth it, but a bit tiring, and Arya was glad to have some time to simply relax and read. Although her choice in reading material might have been a mistake, since it was a romance novel and every line made her think of Eric; what he would do in the hero's place, how she as the heroine would respond to his valiant deeds and passionate declarations. She knew those thoughts were dangerous, and soon asked Claire for another recommendation.

"Something sad," she requested. "Melancholy poetry, perhaps?"

Claire threw her a strange look, but shrugged and complied.

It was midday and the women were just sitting down to lunch when Eric arrived, sweaty and tired but looking more mentally at ease than the morning prior.

"Eric!" Claire cried, rising to greet him. He hugged her briefly, then turned to Arya and bowed slightly.

She nodded in return, then demurely resumed eating. Like him, she had come to a resolution by then: she would encourage their relationship to become platonic once more. As much as she craved his touch, she knew that the risk of developing feelings for him was growing rapidly, and she wanted to avoid falling in love with a man who did not want to marry her.

She would find out later that Eric, too, had made a resolution that morning, thinking hard during his ride home. And while his also pertained to their relationship, it was quite a bit different in nature.

For the time being, both individuals acted much as they had before, and Claire did not appear to notice anything suspicious. She engaged Eric in conversation, asking about his time in Veras - to which he replied vaguely and in a distinctly disinterested tone, "It was nothing to speak of. Just some errands and a quick meeting with an old- an old friend," he informed them.

Sensing that he wished to speak no more on the subject, Claire moved on to the topic of what he would like to do with their day.

Arya had noted that Claire, despite her assertive and almost aggressive attitude towards women, was extremely deferential to Eric. It was a dynamic that did not surprise Arya, since it was typical for men to make decisions and women to follow them, but it was a bit annoying at times; as a guest she had to follow Claire's example, and had to keep her opinions and requests to herself when Eric asked, "What would you ladies be interested in doing?"

"Oh, I'm happy to do whatever you wish," Claire responded passively.

Arya nodded in agreement, but Eric's eyes held her gaze for a moment. He seemed to be challenging her, recognizing that silence and deference were not her preferred response, and also recognizing that she was trying very hard to emulate his ladylike sister.

Understanding passed between them and Arya was surprised to see disappointment in his eyes when she did not speak up. She suddenly remembered a question he had once asked her: "have you ever felt a desire to break free from our social constraints? To openly show your anger, distaste, or... some other desire?"

Just as his gaze began to shift away, clearly giving up on her, she spoke up assertively. "I would like you to take us to the grove. It was beautiful and Claire told me that it is your favorite place here."

She phrased it in a way that was more a demand than request, and his head cocked as he registered this. His eyes then kindled with a fire that made her nether regions respond in kind. She had pleased him, and the knowledge excited her. Though she found it strange how much her assertiveness outside of the bedroom aroused him, while he would brook none of it when in it.

Claire and the servants, however, did not seem to approve of her boldness nearly so much. Arya ignored them, raising her head slightly.

So in tune were Eric and Arya that he recognized this subtle move as her claim that she, too, was a person with preferences and desires and the confidence to voice them, regardless of what censure she might endure afterwards. He suddenly wanted very much to kiss her.

Instead, he replied mildly, "A delightful idea. I would be happy to oblige."

Seeing his approbation, Claire quickly agreed as well.

Eric seemed to sigh hesitantly, responding, "I'm sorry Claire but I need your help with something in the house today."

His sister appeared surprised, but hid it behind a flawless mask of passive acceptance. "Of course, Eric, whatever you need."

"Good. Roy Easton will be visiting this weekend and I need to ensure that the house is properly prepared for another guest. I trust that you will oversee the servants' preparations?"

"Lord Easton?" Claire asked, this time not bothering to hide her surprise. "Coming here?"

"Yes."

"I- uhm yes, of course. Is there anything in particular you wish me to attend to other than the usual? Perhaps Cassandra and I could create a special menu?" she offered, referring to their head cook.

"Excellent idea, I knew I could count on you," Eric replied, smiling affectionately.

"How long will Lord Easton be staying?"

"Three or four days, perhaps longer."

Claire appeared strangely frazzled as her eyes briefly lit up, and was clearly distracted by this development.

Perfect, the little voice inside of Eric whispered. Just where you want her.

The rest of the meal passed quietly. Claire was caught up in her own thoughts, and Eric and Arya were comfortable just eating silently, exchanging glances now and then that caused the fire inside of them to steadily grow. She suspected that Eric wanted to be alone with her; she knew that preparations for one guest could take no more than an hour or two, and they could easily have waited that length of time before leaving.

But Eric gave the order for their horses to be saddled and ready to leave before Claire had a chance to finish her business, and Arya and Eric retired to their rooms to change. Claire immediately hurried off to begin planning and organizing, in a state of agitation that Arya had never seen before.

Ten minutes later, Eric and Arya were mounted. Eric refused Gavin's offer for company, which surprised the manservant, but he of course said nothing, simply bowing his head and returning to his duties.

As soon as they were out of sight of the house, Eric's body relaxed. He had expected some sort of hitch, some problem to arise, but so far everything was going as planned.

Claire won't be able to think straight until Saturday, and will probably be even less coherent once Roy arrives, he thought, congratulating his own cleverness. That piercing gaze will finally be directed elsewhere.

He was startled from his musings by Arya's question as the girl asked, "Who is Lord Easton? And why was Claire so out of countenance? Does she not want him to come?"

Smiling at the blunt nature of her questions, he replied with equal candor, "Roy is not a particularly close friend of mine and this is actually the first time I have invited him here. He's a good man, from a well-respected family in the north. A bit too sycophantic for my taste, but as honorable as they come." He smiled, continuing, "While Claire may have appeared out of countenance, it was from excitement and nerves rather than anything bad. I know he and my sister harbor feelings for each other but seldom have the opportunity to spend any length of time together."

Arya's eyes lit up with understanding, and she began to smile, too, as he continued, "I thought it only fair that she have her own chance to kiss someone while you're here." He winked and Arya couldn't help but laugh a little.

"What a strange thing for a brother to say!"

"Not when you understand the frustration of being separated by custom and convention, of being unable to kiss those you desire without fear of losing all respectability. Sometimes the privacy of your own estate, and the luxury of having no parents around to chaperone your movements, is a thing to be taken advantage of."

His voice had grown serious, now, and Arya stared forwards as their horses plodded onwards through the rich farmland. Without looking at him she replied, "I wonder if Claire would extend the same courtesy and the same consideration to you."

He grinned. "I'm fairly certain she's well aware of our... intimate relationship."

Arya turned red. "What?! But- but she told me... she warned me not to expect anything, she asked what my intentions were and told me about how you were in love with someone and don't want to marry anyone now and- " She paused as she took in the emotions flitting across his face, and the anger that was left in their wake.

"Always meddling," he growled. With a lighter tone he added, "Sometimes I think she should have been born the son, and I the daughter. She's far more protective than I am, I hate to admit. ... That still does not give her the right to speak to you so," he concluded, his voice dark once more. "My business is my own. And she doesn't understand, doesn't know."

"Doesn't know what?" Arya asked, seeing Eric's mind travel somewhere far away. Somewhere that pained him.

"That you're too good of a kisser for me to leave alone no matter how innocent your intentions are," he teased.

She turned pink and stared resolutely forward, annoyed by his evasion of her answer but pleased as well by the compliment. Watching her profile as she moved gracefully with the flow of the horse, Eric thought to himself how blind he was to have ever thought that she was simply pretty, nothing special. She was radiant, and he was glad that his mount needed little guidance because he was having a hard time keeping his eyes on the path.

Picking up the pace as a distraction from the searing gaze that Arya was hyper-aware of, she began cantering and dared Eric to race her. He laughed; it had been too long since he had spent time with someone who wanted to be playful and competitive, and he took up the challenge with gusto.

He won, his horse being larger, stronger, and faster than Arya's small gelding, but the girl wasn't far behind. The meadow was quiet when they finally stopped, panting and pumped full of adrenaline. Their mad dash had frightened the wildlife into silence for the moment, and it was incredibly quiet and peaceful here.

Eric helped Arya dismount, his hands lingering on her body before she quickly and deliberately withdrew from his reach. He frowned a little, wondering why she was apparently trying to distance herself from him.

Her back to him, Arya was stroking her horse and preparing to execute all the proper after-ride care as she began to pull items out of the saddlebag.

Her riding habit was tighter than her loose dresses, Eric couldn't help noticing, cinched in at the waist and tight around the bodice; and with the sweat from their ride, even the skirt clung to her in all sorts of interesting ways. He stared at her, eyes running up and down her body, until he couldn't resist any longer and stepped forward to wrap his arms around her.

Arya gasped, surprised by the sudden attack, but his embrace was gentle rather than assaultive as he nuzzled his face into her neck, brushing away a few flyaway strands of hair that were clinging to her damp skin. Before she could stop herself, a small moan escaped Arya's chest as he lightly kissed his way down her neck, starting behind her ear. The noise forced Eric to hold her more tightly as his passion grew, and she felt his hardness begin to press into her lower back.

That was quickly becoming one of her absolute favorite sensations.

She disentangled herself with difficulty, still trying to maintain some of the distance that she had resolved to keep between them. Her back up against the horse, she faced him head on - though her face was turned slightly to the side as she avoided his gaze. He could see that her breathing was erratic, and knew that she wanted him.

"Why do you run from me, honey bee?" he asked quietly, pacing a hand on Arya's hip but otherwise allowing her the space she was clearly seeking.

She pushed it off distractedly, still not meeting his gaze. "I feel gross after the ride. I'm sweaty and stuff," she replied weakly, hoping the excuse would stick.

It did not. He drew close to her again, both hands holding her hips firmly, now, then leaned down and very slowly and deliberately licked from her collarbone up to her ear.

"I don't mind," he whispered.

"Well I do," she snapped, pushing him away and retreating towards the pond. She knew that this was the last time she would be able to resist his advances, her resolve already crumbling to dust, and this angered her.

"I'm sorry," Eric apologized, looking concerned. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." His eyes were hungry as he added, "you're just so delicious, little one."

Arya ignored him, flopping onto the grass and laying on her back.

She didn't realize how enticing the view was from above, the fabric settling across her body in a way that clearly exposed all of her curves. Eric's eyes were drawn to the distinct triangle outlined by the cloth, remembering the taste and feel of her wetness on his fingers.

Unsure why she was insisting on this space between them, but knowing that he had pushed her far enough, he decided to be the tease for once. He stayed just out of view, humming and ignoring her for a few minutes as he tended to both their horses.

Arya remained lying on the grass as she waited for him to finish, with nothing to distract her from the ghostly sensation of his lips on her skin. She had just managed to focus her attention on ripping apart a leaf when it was drawn back to him by a distinctive noise: his belt hissing as it was pulled quickly from his pants. She looked behind her and gasped when she realized that he was undressing.

"Eric-" she began nervously, not even sure what she wanted to say.

He chuckled darkly. "Don't worry, I won't touch you again. ...Until you ask me to. I'm just hot and would very much enjoy a swim! You coming?"

Her eyes grew wide as she considered this new possibility. When she was here with Claire she had wanted to swim - who wouldn't? - but there was no way in hell it would ever happen. Here, though, with only her and Eric... she blushed hard and was filled with an overwhelming desire to strip and leap into its clear depths with him.

Eric's clothes quickly began falling from his body, and Arya couldn't help but watch. Which he made easy, having purposefully positioned himself within view of her prone form. It was the first time she had seen him fully naked, and she was not disappointed.

Being a gentleman who did no hard labor, he wasn't supremely muscular like the shirtless farmers she had often watched working in the fields. Instead he was lean and lithe, his lower body the only aspect of his physiognomy that was distinctly toned, due to the amount of riding and walking he did. His chest had a fine layer of dark hair, sparse but visible, and it contrasted with his pale skin and light pink nipples.