Lady: Impossible

by Fraser, B. D.

  The journey upstairs to the servants’ quarters is not one I’m used to doing during the day, let alone at night, but it should be fine with the added light. It’s just unfortunate that I have to walk by the main staircase in order to get to the attic’s staircase at the end of the corridor. Every day I walk over the scene of the crime. I stop at the top of the main staircase and point the light downwards, as if I’m a forensics officer with a UV light, expecting the word ‘strumpet’ to be revealed at the top of the stairs.

  I flush from the memory, the need for a man’s touch not so easily suppressed. Worried I’m going to get sidetracked, I quickly scurry down the corridor to the other staircase and make my way up to the men’s dormitory door.

  The door creaks noisily, the hinge wailing at me as if it’s unhappy at being exercised. Wincing, I open it just enough to be able to squeeze through into the passageway. The first thing I see upon entering is a pool of yellow light at the other end. Blair must be awake.

  My heart is thumping now. I should really turn back, but he probably heard the door, so he’ll know I came up here and then ran away. Placing a hand on the wall, I tell myself over and over that all I’m doing is delivering a note.

  I tread carefully, slowly but steadily progressing, passing door after door. Blair’s door, it seems, is half open. When I finally push myself into the light, practically stumbling in my shakiness, I turn the torch off and knock on the door.

  Blair doesn’t turn his head straight away. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, dressed in the same t-shirt and pyjama bottoms he wore when we bumped into each other in the kitchen last week. I bend down, placing the torch on the floor, before then wondering if I can get away with merely leaving the note just inside the room.

  It’s wishful thinking. Blair turns his head, his eyes weary. ‘Lady Emilia.’

  I push the door open further and hold the piece of paper up, now feeling foolish. ‘I was just dropping off this note. I didn’t think you’d be up. But you are.’

  ‘I can’t sleep.’

  ‘Neither can I.’

  He holds his hand out. ‘Is this going to make my insomnia worse, by any chance?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I tighten my grip on the note, wondering if I should rip it up and run. ‘Probably. Everything about me seems to upset you.’

  ‘It’s not as simple as that.’

  ‘Isn’t it? Have you ever been happy with me?’

  He takes a deep breath and drops his hand. ‘I’m not sure how to answer that.’

  ‘Are you really not sure, or are you just saying that so I won’t be offended?’

  ‘The answer is complicated.’ He nods at the door. ‘Close the door so we’re not overheard. Not that your mother is directly beneath us or anything.’

  It’s true – this end of the floor is on the opposite side of the house to my mother’s room.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘I’m not trying to entrap you. It’s a precaution.’

  I smooth down my nightie – a white dress with spaghetti straps and a frill hem. Ironically, it screams ‘virgin’. ‘I know.’

  Despite my words, the click of the door when it shuts does make me nervous. I’m not locking myself in, but it kind of feels that way. Blair and I are now in our own little bubble.

  I step over and hand him the note, backing into the wall opposite him once he’s taken it. It’s a small room, so there’s hardly two feet separating us. I slide down the wall to the floor as he reads my message, conscious that standing may look like an authoritative stance. I tuck my legs to the side and wait for his response.

  He seems to be reading the message over and over – it doesn’t take this long to read it once. I continue to wait, looking around to see if anything has changed from when I stormed up here last week. The main difference is the boxes that stood at the foot of his bed are no longer here. I presume he’s unpacked and settled.

  Blair finally looks up from the note, the fire in his eyes having returned. ‘I admit it. I’m a coward. Like I said in my note, I should’ve spoken to you about all this earlier.’

  I take a moment to mull over his declaration. ‘Coward is a strong word.’

  ‘So it is.’ He lowers his gaze momentarily. ‘I’m sorry, I’m going to have to insist that you wear something over that flimsy dress of yours.’

  I huff, even though I agree with him on the flimsiness. ‘A coward wouldn’t be so forward.’

  He gets up and walks around the bed, taking one of his suit jackets off its hanger. ‘I’m not going to risk ogling you. I’ve done that before and failed miserably.’

  This is Real Blair, not Butler Blair. I squirm a little, knowing this could be the start of the very conversation I’m referring to in the note. Once again, I’m running half a day ahead of schedule.

  I take the jacket from him and put it on, the oversized fit making me feel a little silly. The silliness gives way to a sense of endearment, however. Both of us should have seen this coming. Wearing his jacket is kind of sexy, possessive. I run my fingers over the lapel, feeling the wool on my fingers and registering the faint scent of his aftershave.

  He sits back down on the bed, looking at me in an almost accusatory manner. ‘You look… ’

  I gulp, hoping he can regain his focus.

  He shakes his head. ‘Where was I? Ah yes, I’m a coward. I ran away, thinking that if I ran back to my family I’d be reminded of how much is at stake.’

  ‘And did that work?’

  ‘Well, you saw how worked up I was on Wednesday.’

  ‘Yes, but I wasn’t sure how much of that frustration was about the sex and how much was about you not wanting me to bond with your family.’ I look down and play with the hem of my nightie. ‘You were rude to me and I just took it. If you were anyone else, I would’ve hit the roof, probably in front of a whole aisle of shoppers. I thought Julie and Stephen were really nice. What was so wrong with me meeting them?’

  ‘Everything felt unfair that day.’

  I look up when he doesn’t add any detail. He’s clammed up. ‘Keep talking.’

  ‘It’s not fun admitting your own faults. All that stuff you said about Oliver being self-assured and knowing how to carry himself? That made me feel worse.’

  ‘I wasn’t trying to make you feel worse. Just like I wasn’t trying to make you feel poor on Wednesday.’

  His voice is sterner when he replies. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about your date?’

  ‘I didn’t know what to do.’

  ‘I drove you home from the hotel, thinking I had a few more hours to come to terms with the fact that I’d be driving you to the opera. Then it turns out you’ve already met the guy.’

  ‘What does it matter? He didn’t want me.’

  ‘From the sound of it, he did.’

  ‘Are you jealous?’

  ‘Of the fact he has the sense to turn you down?’

  I tighten the jacket around me. ‘Nice. You really know how to make a girl feel special.’

  He runs a hand through his hair, looking at me pleadingly. ‘That came out wrong.’

  I sigh in frustration. ‘I knew what you meant.’

  ‘Yet you still snapped at me.’

  ‘Snapping is what I do.’

  ‘You might want to change that.’

  I sit up on my knees and point at him. ‘I cried over you. In secret. I didn’t even tell Abby. Look, I know I was selfish – I shouldn’t have asked you for sex. But you fucked me, regretted it, fled and then got angry with me the next time we saw each other.’

  ‘I’m angry because it’s not fair. It’s not fair that I have to regret it.’

  ‘I understand that, but –’

  He cuts me off. ‘I fled because I started justifying it in my head, thinking we could have something casual on the side. There, I said it. I actually thought about jeopardising my livelihood all so I could sleep with you again.’

  I sit back on my heels. ‘It’s not all that crazy. I thought about it too. A
summer fling, or whatever. Nobody has to know.’ I laugh bitterly. ‘Though, if we were found out, you’d at least get “hush” money.’

  ‘This isn’t funny.’

  ‘I know. You’re grateful towards my mother and need this place to stay so you can support your family better. In fact, meeting your brother and sister made that feel more real.’

  ‘They like you, especially Julie. I didn’t want that.’

  ‘Sorry. I’m not usually likeable. I suppose I stuffed up there.’

  Blair shuts his eyes, faintly murmuring something under his breath before meeting my gaze again. My best guess is that he’s praying for strength.

  I say this because there’s now lust in his eyes, plain and unhidden. ‘I can’t stand the thought of you being with other men. Other men touching you. I’ve done my best to not let that show over the last few days but, when you’re not looking, I’m losing my bloody mind.’

  For a few seconds, I lose the ability to speak. This is the type of passion women want to hear from their men.

  Not that Blair is mine.

  ‘I never even got that far. Thinking about being with other men, I mean. When I think about sex, I think about you.’

  ‘Oh Jesus.’ He stands and darts around the other side of the bed, hands on his hips and a grimace on his face. ‘You should probably go back to your own room. I think we’ve said too much.’

  ‘I don’t want to leave.’ It’s true. Even with the risk and the tension, I still want to be around him. ‘We can talk about something else, can’t we? I promise not to ask for sex.’

  ‘I might be the one asking. Don’t argue with me, Emilia. Go back to your room.’

  Knowing he’s right, I sigh and stand up, removing his jacket and holding it out to him as I move towards the door. However, he’s too distracted to take it from me.

  ‘You’re ogling, Blair.’

  His eyes are still trained on my chest. ‘I’m aware of that.’

  ‘Well, as long as you’re aware.’ I hold the jacket up higher. ‘Sorry to obstruct your view, but you might want this back.’

  My chiding would be more effective if I didn’t sound like I was enjoying his attention.

  Blair takes the jacket and immediately tosses it aside. He steps forward, prompting me to step back too. After another step forward, another step back, I find myself backed up against the door.

  ‘I don’t mean to trouble you, m’lady, but I’m afraid I can’t let you leave. There’s something I have to take care of.’ He advances quickly, putting his hands on my waist and pinning me in place. I barely have time to catch my breath before he leans in and kisses me so passionately that my lips ache from the force.

  He wants me. Whether it’s all about sex, I’m not sure, but I won’t deny him when I so desperately want to feel connected with him. I want him to experience happiness and safety, even if only for a few moments at a time. I can give him that.

  I wrap my arms around his neck and lean into him, standing on my toes to make things easier for him. The rush of excitement and relief makes my head spin. But while I’m eager to have his hardness against my body, he takes control again, placing a hand on my hip to push me backwards, before roughly pulling up the dress and tracing his fingers over my bare thigh.

  I break the kiss, thoroughly overwhelmed. He wouldn’t even let me slip my tongue into his mouth. It was all him, like he didn’t want any doubt as to which man had a claim on me. ‘Don’t do this if you’re only going to regret it a minute in. I’m not here to cause you more guilt. I won’t have it.’

  ‘Let me have you. Until your next date, let me have you. Please.’

  I answer him with a kiss – a tender, slow kiss, the kind where the only person who matters is the person you’re sharing the experience with.

  I open my eyes and am rewarded with the most beautiful smile.

  ‘I can’t promise I’ll be that gentle,’ he says, running his hand up my other thigh. ‘Is that okay?’

  ‘Fuck me and find out.’

  The smile turns into a smirk. ‘If you say so.’

  Chapter 14:

  With his hands already on my hips, pinning me against the door, Blair’s next step is to treat himself to what he didn’t get to see last time. He suddenly jerks me forward a fraction, the move sending a clear signal: he wants to be in control. I barely get my sense of balance back before he slowly traces his fingers up my arm, a teasing contrast to the previous step. My heart continues to pound. Is this teasing the last unhurried step before he fucks me senseless?

  Gently, he pushes the strap of my nightie off my shoulder, my nipple hardening from the exposure. His eyes light up in triumph on seeing my bare breast, and soon he follows suit with the other strap, the flimsy garment cascading to the ground. I’m standing before him in nothing but my thong. If it’s an opportunity to survey me, judge me, I can only hope he’s pleased.

  I’m breathless already. And definitely wet. ‘That wasn’t rough at all.’

  He nods at the one remaining garment like it offends him. ‘Off.’

  I obey his instruction, pulling down my knickers and wriggling out them, eventually kicking them aside. ‘Better?’

  His smirk widens. ‘Give me a second to appreciate the view.’

  A second is all he takes. Suddenly, his hands are back on my hips, pushing me against the door again, his groin now pressing firmly against my body. I whimper, remembering how much he filled me last time, the sensory memory prompting me to lick my lips. I arch my back, wanting more contact – better contact – my breasts pressed up against his chest. The cotton barrier of his t-shirt, while soft, is wholly unwelcome. I grip the hem and pull upwards, taking the opportunity to run my hand over his back muscles as he fondles my breast.

  Blair cooperates and soon his top lies discarded on the ground too. I marvel at his toned chest, a moment cut short when he reaches to his left and flicks off the light switch. The remaining light in the room now emanates from his bedside lamp alone. ‘Hold onto my shoulders.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘Do you want me to fuck you or not?’

  He is so hot when he’s bossy. ‘Okay, okay.’ I comply with the instruction, placing a hand on each shoulder, and anticipate being lifted any second now. The skin-on-skin contact is amazing, his body warmth inviting.

  But before he lifts me, he has to remove his trousers. He takes a half step back to do so, distracting me with a kiss. Wanting him to know I appreciate him, I kiss him back with renewed fervour, only for him to break the kiss and grab my arse. I gasp as he lifts me against the door, almost forgetting to wrap my legs around him. However, I come to my senses and do just that, his hardened cock deliciously warm against my thigh.

  ‘Oh God. What did I do to deserve this?’

  I’m entirely too lucky. Even better, the semi-darkness heightens my other senses, enhancing every touch. So as Blair holds up me up as if it’s no effort at all, I do my best to settle into his grip, shifting upwards a little and bucking forward to encourage him to get going. I want the right angle. I want to feel every inch of him.

  ‘I’ll tell you what you did.’ He raises an eyebrow, smouldering. ‘You didn’t tell me about your impromptu date.’

  ‘Yes, but –’

  If there’s ever a way to silence me, this is it. He impales me on his cock, a penetration so shockingly complete and overwhelming that my legs almost go lame. All I can focus on is the fact he’s inside me, the rawness thrilling me in an unexpected way. I cry out when Blair pulls me forward another inch or two, the jostling resulting in shallow thrusts that inflict sudden pulses of intense pleasure.

  I finally finish my sentence, repeating what I told him minutes ago. ‘I didn’t know what to do.’

  ‘Excuses.’ He thrusts upward once, the new leverage arguably giving him more command.

  I moan between ragged breaths, throwing my head back against the door. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Would you have gone home with him tonight?’


  ‘No.’

  ‘Swear it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have slept with him, I swear.’

  The glint in his eye is surprisingly sharp in the dull light. ‘You’d better not be lying.’

  Proving who’s in charge, he begins to fuck me like I knew he would. He grunts as he rams hard and fast, the steely look of determination in his eyes different to the dazed way he went about this last time. There’s a stronger sense of consciousness for me too. It’s not just a physical awareness, the rough and ready way he’s going about this. I want to be able to trust him, to give myself over to him without regret.

  ‘Fuck, you’re beautiful.’ He slows his pace momentarily, leaning over to press his lips on mine. It’s entirely too brief. I even try to propel myself forward to goad him into another kiss, an effort thwarted when he resumes his unforgiving pace.

  It’s all too blissful for me. Although prohibited from moaning too loudly, I truly sound like I’m up to no good: my truncated moans and sharp intakes of breath the marks of a woman with a secret.

  It’s the angle that couldn’t make me feel more wholly impaled. As it’s too exhausting to meet Blair’s rhythm, I remain largely reactive, doing the best I can to push myself against him so his glorious cock hits deeper and deeper. Again, there’s a naughtiness to how brazen I’m being. Every woman should feel the liberation of having her tits on display and bouncing, while a well-endowed man thrusts in and out of her.

  But this feeling of fondness for him just won’t go away. I almost well up as I hold his intense gaze. I really, really don’t want him to regret this.

  Blair seems to notice the waver of emotion. ‘Am I hurting you?’

  ‘No.’ The answer comes out as a shaky whisper – from exhaustion, not from fear.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes.’ I loll my head forward, but end up throwing it back against the door again. I don’t mind the soreness, taking it as part of the experience. ‘Oh. Why are you so good at fucking me?’

  I sound positively despondent. It’s unfair that we can’t do this all day, every day.

  He speaks between grunts. ‘Perhaps you’re just awfully good at taking it.’