The wind howled through the night, the only sound keeping Gabrielle company as she combs her red silk hair. Her mind was on the events that played out during dinner.
Emilia was brought to her door by Mrs puff, and they all went down to eat. She kind of expected Edward to dine with them, his overbearing presence missing, which made the house feel emptier and colder. He kept invading her mind nonstop, and she just couldn't keep him out.
What was he thinking? The uncertainty scared her. He was unreadable, distant even. She scoffed, standing up to pace the room— he unnerved her.
The silence the house held became unbearable, and she needed an out.
Wrapping her robe tightly around herself.
Gabrielle slipped from her room into the hallway.
The floor was cold against her bare foot as she tiptoed down to the Grand foyer. Above her, the chandelier sparkled–the only source of light– casting a glossy sheen on the marble beneath her.
Gabrielle's hands slightly grazed the handle.
Footsteps sounded outside. Terrified, Gabrielle pressed her ear against the smooth oak wood doors, straining to listen.
"Robert… keep an eye out for Gabrielle, " he said, low, sharp.
Gabrielle stiffened as she had no doubt as to whose voice it was.
She backed away slowly, careful not to make a sound. The last thing she needed was stumbling into Edward.
She ran as quietly as she could as the footsteps drew near.
Turning down a corridor, heart racing, she spots a slightly ajar door and slips in.
The room was dark and filled with shadows cast by the moonlight. Gabrielle found the switch and flicked it.
White light filled the room, exposing its secrets: a wall packed with books, she smiled.
All she had to do was wait for Edward to leave the grand foyer. Her fingers glided through rows of books, every one perfectly organized, not even a speck of dust.
The maintenance here was impeccable. Would have made Aunt Gloria cry, she thought as she sank low, hunching over as sadness– or was it grief ?–washed over her. Aunt Gloria, the only other person she had aside from her daughter and mother, was a Librarian-she died last year. And if she didn't play her cards right with Edward, she would lose her mom, too.
Gabrielle, lost in thought, didn't notice he'd walked in.
Edward simply stared at her, trying to discern what could have caused her such sorrow.
The door now opened. A chill ran through Gabrielle's bones, and she instinctively looked up.
Her eyes met Edward's. Her breathing slowed, her mind quiet, and her fear so great it numbed her, stealing her senses.
He sensed her fear, and something in him softened. "Are you alright?" He asked, slowly walking towards her.
He crouched low beside her." What are you doing on the floor?" He said carefully.
Still mute, his fingers stroked her back, pulling her back.
"Edward…" were the only words that left her lips.
Her voice, the way his name rolled off her tongue, her fear–awakened something in him.
He traced light fingers up and down her back, watching her unravel felt like an old, forgotten, dangerous dance.
He needed to stop. This wasn't why he'd followed her. He had only wanted to finally speak with her about their arrangement.
But his body wouldn't let him– her flushed face sent ripples of hot need coursing right through him. A moan escaped her, shattering what little self-control he maintained.
She looked terrified —aghast with herself— like she had committed some sin she hadn't meant to.
His hand lifted, his fingers traced, then cupped her face.
He liked her this way.
"You can talk to me," he said softly, still stroking her face, as he pulled closer.
Still caught on the shores of pleasure, her lips parted, but no sound came.
Seeing her like this—undone and so very tempting— pulled him in.
Before he could stop himself, he closed the distance and kissed her. She melted into him instantly, his left hand slipping from her face to her neck, lips locked in a slow rhythm.
He worshiped her with kisses, then came back as his tongue explored the depths of her lips.
His fingers glided from her neck to the top of her breast, squeezing, and he moaned low.
How can a woman be this tasteful? His fingers were pulling and fondling her nipple through the sheer fabric of her robe.
Gabrielle jolted, breathing hard and loud as his mouth devoured hers.
He pulled her up slowly, found a table, and placed her on it. His lips are still very much entertaining hers.
The table creaked as he leaned in on her, his hands finding her calf, tracing up to her thighs.
He sensed her stiffen, shock in her eyes as his fingers slid higher, finding her.
She was hot, soft, and wet… for him. That pleased him.
His finger found their rhythmic flow, in and out of her as her nails dug holes in his back. That
Her moans got louder as he slipped in more fingers, stretching her, kneading her.
She tightened around him as she came, sweat on her skin, as his fingers slowed.
They stayed there for a while, as her breathing quieted.
He pulled her back, watching the smile she wore fade as she met his gaze.
His face spread out into a horrid smile.
"Still quite easy, I see. Always the girl that lost her virginity on the hood of my god damn car."