Disclaimer- Libba Bray owns the characters... as well as my soul. Lucky bitch. Who am I kidding? She deserves it more than me.
A/N- Right-O. Ummm, there wasn't a day where Gemma visited her family with Fee and Ann. I made it up so I could write horny thoughts form Kartik. So sue me.
I knew it was stupid. Ignorant and silly and immature. But somehow I couldn't hold myself back from going back there, even if only to see her face.
It had been around Christmas since I last saw her. She had glided into the room where I told her to find me, asking me to pledge my faith to The Order. I told her The Order had my service, but I didn't add that it was only because she was the Most High. That would have been quite the embarrassing subject to be brought about in a time of turmoil
So there I was, nearly four months later, on the day she was visiting her family with Felicity and Ann, sitting in the same stall with Ginger that I always did back when I was the Doyle's coachman. It was early in the morning, too early for Gemma to be up. Silently, I prayed for her to walk out and see me, yet I dreaded the very notion at the same time. I pet the horse softly, smiling when she relaxed. Why is it that I can't seem to push this girl from my thoughts. Gemma this, Gemma that. Enough already! I gave up everything because of her, for her. And I'm not sure I even know why.
Her essence plagues me. My memory can blessedly recall her every detail, as if it were carved in stone into me, permanently. It doesn't help that my mind assists her image in very provocative ways.
It was nauseatingly pleasurable to think of her normally tightly pinned copper hair fanning out. To simply imagine her in my bed, casually lounging, was enough to make my mouth as dry as it would have been in the Sahara. The notion of sleeping next to her, listening to her breath, to feel her warmth, was unexpectedly welcome to my senses.
I had seen naked women before. Nothing particularly sexual was happening at the time, but it was after I reached the point of being interested in females. But Gemma's body, her face, sang for me louder, even through her layers of petticoats and fabric. I had the miracle of seeing her in nothing but her nightclothes, which I should probably be ashamed of. But as soon as I recall how she looked in it, I just can't bring myself to regret the awkward glances I sent towards her, hoping she wouldn't notice.
I thought back to it, thrilled to find that my memory served up the image of Gemma perfectly, just as I had seen her after I snuck into her room when she was talking to the mirror. I would never be able to tell her just how adorable she was, speaking to herself and pinching her cheeks. I longed deeply to see her cheeks flush from something far away from embarrassment. I wished I could see her full lips doing wonderful things. Pressing against mine, trailing down my stomach, mouthing my name...
She surely did not realize how she affected men, namely me. I could tell in the way she carried herself, in the way she spoke, that she had no intention of seduction on her part. But seduce us she did. It only made it all the more attractive that it was unintentional. Gemma Doyle could easily have a army of men at her service. And she just might. I had been gone for quite a while, certainly long enough for her to realize that fleeting kisses and looks with me weren't enough to satisfy a woman.
Woman. What a woman she was. Each time I spied her long legs -whether it be the outline through her dress or her calves exposed from her nightwear- I was humming with longing, quietly urging her to spread them for me or wrap them around waist... or neck. I could easily fall into the fantasy of her her pressing her heel against my legs, pressing me deeper.
Her broad shoulders could be easily intimidating, but was overwhelmed by the feminine slope of her breasts and hips. I pictured her in her nightgown once more, flushing at how happy I had been for noting the way her breasts were still supple and perky, despite the lack of support from her corset. How I yearned to trace her figure with my fingers and leave her pleading, begging, for more. Her voice was that of an angels, soft and lilting, but I longed to hear it dark and thick with desire for me, whimpering encouragingly in need, then screaming my name feverishly.
I wondered lingeringly how lovely it would be to have her mounted atop me, head thrown back in unspeakable pleasure, gasping heavily with exertion. I would much rather be on top, driving into her roughly as she clung to me, but I had to admit I would appreciate the angle. I would be able to see all of her at her peak, feel her writhe on top of me. The mere thought of her swaying against me, flushed and desperate, made me itch with frustration. Why must I do this to myself? I can't have her. Most surely not in that way. But still...
I could nearly feel her hot sex, wet and ready against my fingers. The weight of her perfectly round breast pressing into my palm. Her small, dainty fingers wrapped around me, guiding me to her entrance, as her amazing green eyes darken in anticipation. We would be perfect together. Right down to the way she would cry out into my shoulder with her legs over my shoulders and back against the wall, tightening and quivering with release that I brought her to. Not Simon Middleton, not some rich suitor, but me, Kartik.
Ugh. I really am a professional at torturing myself. Somebody with such talent should get a medal. I must have been dozing with my thoughts, because when I looked out of the stable, the light hit my eyes. I slammed back to the ground, hands covering my face. I looked down, mortified, to see myself hard and unyielding. Damn. Well, atleast it wasn't the first time Gemma had caused me to wake up like this. I distantly heard the maids tittering about and grinned, knowing everyone was waking up.
I hadn't seen her for months, and I was almost embarrassed to say that I was eager to see her. But my memory was nothing compared to the real thing. I would bet my life that my fantasies would be nothing to the real thing either. Bad Kartik. Just be patient and wait to see Gemma. Sighing, I kneeled, keeping myself hidden. I waited for nearly an hour before I saw her, but it was well worth the wait. I sucked in a sharp breath as she walked outside.
Her golden red hair was half-up, looking more girlish than her previous style of all of it against her scalp. Even from a distance, her green eyes glowed with curiosity and brilliance. She may have even grown taller, else she's wearing higher heels. A dangerously form fitting emerald green dress adorned her figure, and its neckline brought great emphasis to just how she had grown since Christmas. A cute hat sat atop her head and her face shone with happiness.
Felicity and Ann bounded out to hug her, dressed in their own fashionable clothing. I nearly laughed as Gemma swayed on the spot, nearly falling over from the force of their affections. Her eyes trailed to the stall and I froze, hoping she didn't see me. I saw her sigh wistfully and turn away, leaning over to pick up her hat, which had fallen off. I cursed my eyes for peeking at her cleavage and bum. Not the thing to be thinking about when you're seeing the woman you love for the first time in nearly four months.
I blanched at thinking about how she would react if she knew I was working for Ms. McCleethy and was tortured by Fowlson. I suppose she would be angrier at me than she would if she knew about my wanton thoughts of taking her innocence. Hard to imagine really. Her laugh lit up the vicinity and a manic grin broke on my face at the sound of her joy. I wondered if she missed me. My smile slowly ebbed away. Surely not, else she wouldn't have been so peppy at that moment. I sat back down and closed my eyes, listening to her gossip scandalously with her friends.
She was to cute as she tried to choke a giggle when Ann started cursing after stubbing her toe. I lifted my head a fraction to see her face. It was radiating content, no undercurrent of tension. My eyes shamefully followed her hips as she began a waltz with the blond girl, twirling needlessly and sighing when she was gathered in the other girl's arms. I was shocked to feel a deep jolt of jealously, not just for her dance partner, but everybody in Gemma's world. They could have her; I could not.
I knew she wanted me somehow. As an ally, a friend, or a lover, I did not know. All that mattered was that I couldn't be any of those things for her, even if she desired me the way I ached for her. I tiptoed away, cautious to not make a noise. I climbed up the ivy near her window and slipped inside silently.
This was less of a precaution and more of me satisfying my questions about the mysterious Gemma Doyle. It was wrong for me to snoop around her room, but the opportunity was too god to pass up. Besides, I needed to know if anything is important is going on in her life so I could keep track of her. My eyes were drawn to her desk, littered with Jane Austen books and calling cards. A grimace worked its way onto my face when I saw several from Simon Middleton. I heard a few days ago that she turned down his proposal after I left.
I thought about what it would be like to be married to Gemma. We would live in India of course, she had always adored India. Perhaps Bombay? I could work, and combined with her families money -considering they accept our marriage- we would have a decent house. Children... I suppose if she wanted them. I had never really considered before. And every night I could have her. Being married, we would be able to couple whenever we pleased. My face grew hot thinking about being with Gemma every night for the rest of my life.
Bloody hell. She has me lusting after her, considering marriage and children. Gemma certainly had me besotted. I quickly sifted through her drawers, blushing when I came across something indecent. Just when I was about to leave, I noticed a crumpled up ball of paper. I picked it up and smoothed it in my hands. I recognized one set of handwriting as Gemma's, and the other I did not know. It seemed she was passing noted with someone. Gemma wrote first-
Felicity, please keep your voice down. Grandmama is talking.
Oh do leave me alone. I shall do what I please. Can we go to the realms tonight?
No. Not tonight. I'm not ready to go back there.
Please Gemma? Is this about that Indian boy? You always get all mopey when we mention him.
No! It's not about Kartik. Shush now.
Really? Because if I didn't know any better, I would think you fancy him.
Good thing you know better.
Fine then. I'll just go find him myself and ask him to bring me. Maybe he knows a way in.
Fee, you've tried to kill him before, I don't think he's too keen on being near you. And I don't think there's any other way in.
Ugh, why don't you just admit you're smitten by him?
Because I am not! Go away.
I will when you admit how you feel about him. Be honest, I can tell when you're lying.
Go. Away. Felicity.
Gemma and Kartik sitting in a tree...
Oh alright. I like him. Alot. More than any girl should allow herself to like a man not her husband.
That wasn't so difficult. Why don't you go for him?
Several reasons. First- He doesn't like me. Second- I haven't seen him in months. Third- It's not allowed for some ridiculous reason.
Just do it anyway. And he does like you. I can tell.
Whatever Fee. Go away now please.
...She likes me? She thinks I don't like her? She must be mad to not realize. I dropped the note quickly, mind racing. Half heartedly crumpling it back up and kicking it to where it was found, I scaled down the ivy and returned to my tent in the forest, thoughts surprisingly blank. She likes me. And I like her. Packing up my supplies and running to the next train to anywhere, I realized that this strange new discovery only gave me more incentive to stay away.
A/N: THIS IS OVER! THERE WILL BE NOOOO UPDATES. OVER. GONE. DONE WITH.