Certainly, I cannot write the same to my father—I will have to wait for him. And in truth I am not eager to hasten his discovery of my public disgrace.
Then I send word to Mr. Peabody to carry out my duties. He replies with a quick affirmative in response.
And then I promptly forget about the outside world.
Instead, I spend the next days completely immersed in Annabelle.
We see no one.
The servants are told to leave us alone.
No visitors come.
Outside, the tale of our illicit relationship must be spreading.
But I cannot care.
Because the truth is that we revel. There is no other word for it.
We dine and sup and fuck and walk in the gardens.
I lose myself in her.
One afternoon, in the chill air of late fall, we sit under a massive tree in the gardens. With the auburn leaves strewn all around, we cling to each other for warmth.
We have had each other constantly, but I want more. I always do.
And I have kept my promise to her. The one I made after our encounter in the study. I have been careful. I have withdrawn and not spent inside of her. I want to protect her.
We have been lounging on a blanket for an hour, doing nothing but talking and laughing and lying close.
Her pile of erotic books lies beside us—my green book among them. We have been looking over them together and pointing out the passages and images that we like. My green book is a rather tame affairnext to some of the ones that she owns. Still she has been very curious what passages I find most arousing. She laughs when she sees where the book opens most readily.
As she laughs at one such discovery, I have the sudden urge to weep.
And I know the reason. Over these past few days, for the first time in my life, when I have felt desire, I haven’t needed to feel fear as well. With Annabelle I can express my urges—I can find satiation and, in fact, joy. I needn’t dread the pain to come when I feel the quickening of lust.
“Mmm, my love,” I say, my mouth at her ear. “I want you again.”
“Do you?” she says in her characteristic cool manner. But I know now that she is not as indifferent as she sounds.
“That is why you brought me out here, is it not?”
Thus far, we have done nothing more than lie close and admire the way the branches hang above us.
She checks the little watch she keeps in her pocket and then puts it away, even though I am not aware of any restriction on her time today.
She kisses me, letting our tongues play together, and my body surges and hardens.
She undoes the placket of my trousers as she kisses me. She begins to stroke my cock with her hand and soon I am gasping.
From the sweet simplicity of her touch, tears prickle behind my eyes.
Then without speaking she pushes me back, rises above me, straddles me, and takes me inside of her.
My cock is buried in her wet heat. The contrast between that warm intimacy and the cold world around us, so chilly and beautiful, soothes and riles my senses.
If anyone happened upon us right now, they wouldknow they saw two lovers, but they might not know that I am buried inside of her.
