by E. M. Havens
“Yes, I love you. Don’t you want me to love you?”
“Yes, but you wouldn’t say it.”
“I say it all the time,” he said in shock.
“Never,” she said firmly, then pointed to her head. “Eidetic memory?”
That was it. She needed a memory, a solid memory to hold on to when she doubted his love.
“Sam, come dance with me.”
“No, I – “
“Please, Sam. Please do this for me,” he begged.
She nodded her head and secured Sprocket. Cole helped her to her feet and they followed the sounds of music and merriment to the town square. Lanterns hung on lines stretched across the street and people milled about, the smell of ale strong amongst them. When they were spotted approaching, a cheer went up, but Cole only nodded politely at those who bowed to them in acknowledgement. His heart pounded as he wiped the nervous sweat from his upper lip.
Sam and Cole reached the brightest lit area where couples twirled to a high stepping beat. He pulled Sam close to him, and they entered the fray. It was a simple but fast dance that they both settled into quickly. He tried to encourage her by attempting a smile of his own, but he couldn’t seem to supply one.
The music ended, and the dancers congratulated each other. Cole wiped his sweaty palms on his breeches then pulled Sam to the center of the dance square. It was now or now.
“Friends! Friends! Can I have your attention please?” he called over the crowd. They were quick to quiet and focus on him, a luxury of being royal. Sam held his one hand with both of hers and tried to hide behind him. “Thank you,” he said when he had the full attention of those gathered. He spoke loudly and clearly so those further back could hear. All eyes were focused on the Prince and Princess.
“We missed you all at our wedding.” There was a ripple of laughter through the crowd. They hadn’t been invited. “I’ll be the first to admit you didn’t miss much.” He felt Sam’s hands tighten on his. “But I would like to make it up to you. You see, though the wedding was rife with formality, it lacked in reality. I want you all to know, that your Princess, Princess Samantha, has captured my heart.” There were awes from the women and knowing chuckles from the men. “She is the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, and I love her.”
He turned to Sam, heart pounding, then lowered himself to one knee. Taking both her hands in his, he lowered his voice. He spoke only to Sam, and her eyes widened in shock over his rash actions. “Sam. Will you marry me?”
Her mouth worked to find the right words, but she finally whispered, “We’re already married.”
He whispered back, “I know, but now I’m giving you a choice to say yes.” She looked at him as one might a mad scientist for a moment before a smile touched the corners of her mouth.
“Yes,” she giggled and the crowd erupted in cheers.
“Here, try this,” Hope said, handing over what appeared to be a simple white underdress. Cole had only proposed last night, but they were both determined to marry again today. Hope had volunteered to help her get ready, but Sam struggled to find footing with the woman.
“And this.” Her half-sister-in-law held up a shortened blue corset. “Married in blue, you’ll always be true!” Hope raised her eyebrows expectantly, then shoved the device into Sam’s hands, then a pair of bloomers.
“I don’t need a corset.” Sam tried to be bold, but her statement came out more in a whisper.
“Of course you don’t. It’ll be pretty though. Wear it on the outside as an accessory, break up the white.” Hope laughed, railroading through her objections and turning to rummage through a drawer in the only dresser of Hope’s small cabin. “How old are you anyway?”
“Twenty-one.”
“Ha! Me too.”
Hope didn’t look the same age as Sam. She looked more weathered, wizened somehow.
“I only have a comb and this hat.” Hope held up a plain ivory bone hair comb and a small black feathery circle. “This is for funerals.” She grimaced and tossed the hat on top of the dresser. “Are you sure you don’t want to go shopping?” Hope asked, and she started dividing and twisting one side Sam’s hair into the comb. “I don’t have much, and what I do have is not suitable for a princess. Oh! I like that.”
Hope grabbed a hand mirror off of the dresser top and held it up for Sam to see herself. The comb pulled up one side of Sam’s short hair, the other side swooping over to almost cover the opposite eye.
Sam had never had friends. Even in the finishing school, other girls stayed clear of her. She envied the giggles and time shared by them while trying on one another’s clothes and fixing their hair.
“Are you okay? You’re not talking much.”
Sam looked past the mirror to Hope, who quirked one eyebrow in question, just like Cole.
“You do want to marry him?” Hope’s eyebrow traveled higher. “Again. Because he’s a good man, Princess. He deserves…” she trailed off, seeming to finally realize who she was talking too by the chagrin plastered across her face. She didn’t apologize though.
“Call me Sam. And, yes. I do want to marry him…again.”
Both women laughed and Sam began to change as Hope searched for less clunky shoes.
“I know we started off a bit awkward,” Hope said over her shoulder. Sam’s cheeks flushed. That was an understatement. “I was hoping you would allow Cole to continue his visits with the children. They love their brother.”
“Of course,” Sam replied, buttoning up the bodice of the dress.
“And I was hoping we could be friends as well. I know that it might be looked down upon but – “
“Yes.”
“Good.” Hope stood and handed Sam a pair of low heeled black shoes. Sam wrinkled her nose and shook her head.
“I think I’d rather go barefoot.”
They laughed again, and Hope toyed with the corset. She arranged it with the ties in front. Sam could barely feel it when she was done. Looking in the full length mirror, she saw Hope was right. The simple white, off the shoulder dress needed the corset just under her bust to add contrast and form. Sam ran her fingers along the line of ruffles at the straight neckline. Though no cleavage showed, it seemed much more revealing than her first wedding dress, her shoulders being bare. The dress came to mid-calf and Sam twisted to appraise the swish of the fabric. She felt light, unencumbered, and beautiful. Hope applauded in agreement. This would do.
****
For Sam and Cole’s second wedding, the grand throne room was replaced by their meadow, the first place Cole said he knew he could love her. Instead of a blaring organ, they were serenaded by the buzzing of bees and chirping birds. A soft summer breeze whispered its approval of Sam’s simple, flowing white dress, gold brooch, and crown of daisies. Instead of a priest, Nana, Zeb, and Cole’s half siblings, including her new friend Hope, presided over the ceremony. Even Freedom and Octavious were on hand for the exchange of vows, which didn’t include “I do”.
“I choose you,” Cole vowed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Sam studied each of the lines, never wanting to forget any detail of this moment.
“I choose you,” she responded, and he kissed her. It wasn’t so much passion that built inside Sam, but a sense of rightness, belonging and acceptance.
“Ewww.” Christopher whined from behind them, and the kiss broke with the couple laughing. Nana sobbed next to Zeb who shifted his weight from foot to foot and stared at the tree tops.
Sam looked back into the depths of Cole’s sea blue eyes and felt that feeling. The one she thought she would feel. The moment was… Perfect.
****
The small of Sam’s back felt like it was made for Cole’s hand to rest on. He pressed there harder closing the gap between their bodies, walking her backward toward their bed, taking his time. They had time. He slid his lips from hers across her jaw to her ear, and teased the lobe with a gentle nibble, delighting in the responding sigh.
“Same rules,” he whispered
, “If you say stop…”
Sam nodded. They came to a halt when the back of her legs met the edge of the bed. He studied her face. Trust and longing resided there, and he traced the constellation of beauty marks along her jaw with his thumb. Cole trailed kisses back to her lips, and gathered the front of her dress higher. He found the drawstring of her bloomers and pulled. The swish of the fabric falling and pooling to the ground caused a ripple of anticipation, and he had to stop kissing his bride to try and regain some control.
Resting his forehead on hers for a moment and he smelled the daisies that were in her hair from earlier. He trailed his fingertips along her hips to her stomach, enjoying the quiver of response it incited in her. Following the same path back down, he cupped her hips, and pulled her to him. The smooth, flawless skin under his hands caused a momentary flash back to their Verification, and the damage that should have been there from the chastity belt.
His thoughts rushed screaming back to the present as her hands, that had finished unbuttoning his shirt, slipped inside and around, tracing down his spine. Hands around her waist, he lifted her to sit on the bed, and stepped between her knees. She tensed, squeezing against the intrusion. Finding that precious spot at the base of her neck, she relaxed and parted her legs in invitation.
Not yet. Cole reminded himself. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to mess this up. Not this time, and the household had strict orders not to interrupt. Supporting her back he scooted her further onto the bed. Her head rested in the crook of his arm as he lay beside her. He ran his fingers through her silken hair, adjusting it at the base of her neck to make sure it didn’t pull. He loved the play of dark and light strands splayed out on the bed in the waning sunlight that snuck past the part in the heavy drapes. He let a lock slide between his fingers, then traced the line of her collar bone to the dip of her dress bodice, and started unbuttoning it.
He teased her lips with another kiss, never lingering for long before breaking away. She lifted her head each time to try and draw him back. He slipped his hand inside her bodice. The soft flesh of her breast fit perfectly in his hand. She tensed again when he brushed his fingertips across her nipple, but not the anxious type this time. He took the small bud between his fingers, and caressed it until it shrunk and hardened. Her breathing increased in response, and she neglected to return his kisses.
He moved the sides of the bodice exposing her chest, and she shuddered, raising her hands to cover herself.
“Okay?” Cole asked.
“Mm hm.” She nodded. Her eyes were closed. He wished they were open so he could better tell if that was the truth, but she moved her hands down to her stomach, fisting the material of her dress.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, and placed his hand, palm down, between the porcelain mounds, letting his thumb trace the bottom curve of her breast. Then he dipped his head, covering the pink center with his mouth, sliding his tongue firmly and slowly across the hardened nub. Her hands flew to his hair and she whimpered, a sound that called to his most primitive needs. He fought the throbbing desire building inside him. Not yet.
He continued to taste the salty sweetness of her skin and she clutched his hair even tighter. Not quite pushing him away, yet not pulling him forward. Cole found the hem of her dress again, high above her knees now. He didn’t want to surprise her so he placed his hand flat on her thigh just below. Sliding his hand slowly under her dress, he let his thumb graze the curls between her thighs before it stilled on her stomach.
Sam gasped and grabbed his upper arms, not to push him away, but as if bracing herself. He repeated the motion, this time with more pressure on her thigh, and she responded by giving way. A little more encouragement and she opened to him, flooding his senses with the sweet bouquet of feminine arousal. With the lightest touch, he traced her opening, and found it moistened with the desire. She shivered, and goose bumps peppered her thighs. Soon.
He released her nipple from his teeth. “Okay?” he asked, continuing his gentle strokes, deepening them with each pass, but still barely entering her. She nodded fervently, and he covered her trembling mouth with his. When she responded in like to his devouring kisses, he slid his finger inside her slick folds, capturing her responding moan in his mouth. It rattled him to the core. Very soon.
He found a pleasurable spot to caress with his thumb while he added a second finger to his stroking of her warm channel. Her fingers tightened against his tensed biceps, almost painfully. She broke the kiss and laid her head back against the bed.
She looked at him, finally. He expected to see her jeweled green eyes looking at him in ecstasy, but the black pools that stared back were like buckets of snow dousing his internal fire.
“Sam?” he whispered, stopping his ministrations. She didn’t respond, just looked past him, through him.
“Sam.” he yelled, his heart pounding with fear instead of arousal. “Sam!” He shook her shoulders, but she only stared and hiccupped slightly. In a panic he tried to snap her out of whatever trance had engulfed her, and slapped her cheek lightly, shaking her again. When she still didn’t respond, he slapped her harder. “Sam.” he yelled.
In his distress, he missed the movement, the right hook that smashed into the corner of his mouth. Dazed and tasting blood he looked back to Sam, who’s perfectly green, and incredibly indignant eyes stared up at him.
“You hit me,” he said bewildered, touching the stinging split in his lip. His finger came away with a drop of red.
“You hit me.” she said, outraged.
“But – “ Cole couldn’t get out an explanation as rivulets of tears began to stream from the corners of Sam’s eyes, and her chin quivered. Lying mostly under him, she looked so much like she had that first night, and he wondered if he would ever forget.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. When he tried to move away from her she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He tried desperately to ignore the warmth of her breast against his bare chest.
“I’m okay,” he said, and tried to extract himself from her grip around his neck. “You didn’t hit me that hard.”
“No! I’m not sorry for hitting you,” she wailed. “I’m sorry for…for…I don’t know.”
Cole patted her shoulder supportively not knowing what else to do, what was out of order, or what she needed. He just let her exhaust her tears. After a while she quieted, and loosened her grip. She tried to arrange her bodice modestly as they both sat, with space between them on the side of the bed.
“What happened, Sam?” Cole couldn’t hide the pain in his voice, and he stared at the floor. He was pretty sure he knew the answer, and it killed him, but he had to hear it from her.
“I…you…” She started haltingly. “Well everything was fine. It…felt wonderful, and then I felt so out of control, like I was going to…” Her eyes were fixed on her fingers, fidgeting with her cuticles. “I just felt undone, and I needed to know you were there to hold me together, but when I saw you above me like that…it hurt.”
He was right. She would never be able to forget either.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he could see new tears dripping to her hands in her lap.
“No. I’m sorry. I pushed you too fast. I was selfish. I’m such an idiot.” He ran his hands through his hair, flopped back on the bed, and stared at the ceiling. Sam didn’t contradict him. He hoped she would, but understood when she didn’t. He felt the mattress shift as she left the bed. He couldn’t even bring himself to sit up and look at her go. They would never be able to enjoy each other. Never be able to have a normal relationship. And what about children? If they couldn’t get past this they would never have that joy either.
Cole was shocked out of his spiraling thoughts by trembling hands at the buttons of his trousers. He looked up to see Sam standing in front of him completely naked, and attempting to undress him. Desire and remorse clenched his gut in equal portions.
“Sam,” he said softly, and stilled her hands by grabbing her w
rists. “You don’t – “
“I want to.” There was a slight tremor in her voice when she spoke. The look on her face was desire, mixed with fear and determination. How could one person feel so many things at once? “I want to,” she repeated more determined.
Cole let his hands slip from her wrists, and Sam continued fumbling with his buttons, trying quickly to undress him before she lost her nerve. She worked desperately to push the visions from her mind. Not just from the Verification, but from every thought and happening that threatened to consume her. She didn’t like the feeling of being out of control, of chaos that had accompanied the pleasure he gave her. But she wanted this, for them both.
She finished with the buttons, tugged his pants off, and attempted to look at his naked body in all its glorious manhood. It had been easier the other morning. She hadn’t felt so exposed. Now with his gaze sliding over her naked form; she really hadn’t thought this through. Her hands involuntarily moved to cover herself.
With a sad smile, Cole hopped off the bed, and she felt the deep flush his movements caused over every part of her body. She was relieved when he pulled the blankets back and crawled under the covers.
“Come here,” he beckoned, not ordered, and she gladly slipped beneath the boon of concealment. “I love you,” he whispered into her ear as he pulled her close. She was aware of each part of him pressed against her back; his hard chest ebbing and flowing against her shoulders with each breath, the twitch of his arm along her side as he made minute adjustments for their comfort, he tickle of his body hair against the back of her thighs, the complete warmth and safety that enveloped her and his throbbing erection nestled against her backside.
Warmth and wetness tickled between her legs and Sam was glad for the approaching cover of night as well. She hoped in the darkening room Cole couldn’t see the embarrassment of her body’s uncontrollable reactions.
“Good night,” he said. He kissed her on the cheek, and snuggled in close.
No. No, no, no, no. She meant what she said. She wanted this. Sam opened her mouth to say…what? What could she possibly say? After a few moments of contemplation she resigned herself to the aftermath of her break down.