Midnight in the Garden…
"Is this real?" I asked in awe. The smell of green, living things and night-blooming flowers perfumed the air and covered-up the ubiquitous stink of burnt amber. Two large trees that looked like maples framed the door, but they were coated in largish, faintly yellow flowers. I looked up, and instead of a high ceiling I could see a velvety blue night sky draped with wisps of clouds and dotted with the faint luminance of stars. I could hear water nearby, could even smell the crisp freshness of quantities of moving water.
"Yes," Al said, and if I wasn't mistaken he sounded a bit put off.
"Not an illusion?" I asked again, hardly believing it. Dali's garden was amazing. I couldn't even begin to guess at the size of it. It was more like a park! I could see a colonnade of marble pillars lining a footpath; moonflowers bigger than my fist were encircling the marble, their vines and delicate little leaves faintly silver in the moonlight and looking like exotic white snakes.
"It's his conservatory," Al explained, taking my yanking on his arm as a hint and guiding me down the path. I could hear the water more clearly; it sounded like a waterfall. I bet Dali had koi too.
"Wow, this is a conservatory?" I said aloud, previously having associated the word with my high school's 4H club's little ramshackled greenhouse. Al harrumphed and kept a firm grip on my arm as I tried to wander off the footpath. I could see pink ladies, violets, and clover in little clumps under the feet of massive trees I had no name for.
"Is your conservatory like this?" I asked, and looked back at Al just in time to see the pinched dislike on his face.
"No, love." Al said, his precise accent harder now, making him sound pissed. But in light of Dali's little escapade, maybe it was jealousy? I shuddered though it wasn't cold. It was pleasant "out" here, not the mugginess of still air one expects to find in a greenhouse.
Al released my arm for a moment, but glared at me, quashing any hopes I had of wandering off. His gloved hands fished in his pockets a moment before pulling out his snuffbox. I wrinkled my nose and he lifted a brow at me, annoyed but otherwise ignoring me as he took a pinch and the tang of brimstone filled the air.
"You see, itchy witch, not many can hope to attain Dali's level of prominence," Al explained smoothly, the annoyance and anger now gone from his voice, making me think that in addition to all other things, most demons were substance abusers. But then, maybe all the brimstone inhalation cut down on the burnt amber smell.
"Dali's conservatory is just about the finest you could hope to find in the ever after, though there are some who bicker about his orchid cross-breeds or the lack of aesthetics of his flowering shrub placements."
"But the sky's blue," I pointed out. Al reached out to reclaim my arm, and I let him continue to lead me down the path.
Al glanced up and sighed dramatically. "That part is illusion," Al admitted, but before I could ask any of the questions burning on my tongue, I gasped as we came around a turn in the road and I saw the waterfall.
It looked like a natural cliff face, the rock wall jutting above the trees and beyond. Water gushed down the rocks, tumbling straight down in places or pooling and trickling elsewhere. The soft ripple of light on the water blended with the sudden sparks of moonlight catching the streaks of quartz generously streaking through the rock. Al led me to the railing, and I bent over it, looking down at the small lake below. I could see the quick flash of light of scales though couldn't tell if they were koi. There were pots of jasmine along the rail and an arbor of vines with red blooms that looked rather like gaping mouths with extended tongues.
"It's beautiful," I sighed, and didn't even pull away when Al leaned in closer, the side of his body warm against mine. I could feel his face just above my hair, the heat of his bare hand like a brand on my arm.
He sighed above me, and I felt the first trickle of fear drip down my spine. His free hand moved through my hair, gently running through the temporarily tamed curls. One arm moved around my waist, and without thinking about it, I leaned back into him when he starting nuzzling my hair, breathing in the smell of me as deeply as I had been breathing in the blooming smells of the garden.
"Al?" I asked, not liking how high my voice sounded. His other hand dropped my hair and also curled around my waist, pulling me firmly against him. I gasped and was glad he couldn't see my face. The feel of him through the thin material of my dress was exciting and frightening as hell, so warm as if he was feverish, the rigid lines of hard muscle, the bulge in the front of his pants hard enough I was sure he knew I could feel it.
"Hush, Rachel," he whispered, soft enough that it barely carried over the constant swirl of water. Al kept one arm firm around my middle, and the other one was tracing a slow line along my hip. Even through the dress material I knew he had his damn gloves off, again. And I knew it was only a matter of time before that hand tried to stray further. I drew in a deep breath, trying to find my resolve and previous anger. The rich scent of the nearby jasmine was intoxicating, but I could smell something else too, almost as strong, musky with a dash of what might have been cloves and cinnamon.
But suddenly that dangerous, roving hand was gone, and he turned me to face him. Staring up into his perfect, hard face and penetrating demon eyes, I knew I was blushing like a moronic teenage girl and the knowledge of it only made the blood rise faster.
"You're looking a bit winded, my incarnadine kitten. Let's sit, shall we?" Al asked but his grip was firm as he guided me over to the bench I hadn't seen tucked under the arbor. He pulled me down, and I saw it was more like a lounge than a park bench, and it was tucked discreetly away from plain view and safe from any spray from the water. I had a moment of panic, wondering if I was just being paranoid or if Al was really going to try it. He teased and flirted like it was going out of style, but I really never though of him as the type to risk a frontal assault. I didn't think he had really been that upset by Dali's gesture, and I knew he liked showing me off at parties. So I really didn't think he'd try it. But then his ungloved hands were in between us, unfastening the buttons of my dress before I could slap them away, and my shock was replaced by indignation.
"What the hell, Al?" I gasped, trying to pull away but only getting myself more vertical on the lounge with Al's weight pushing me down.
"Trust me, Rachel," Al said, his face looming above me, his eyes bright in the moonlight I kept forgetting was only an illusion. I tried to kick out, but he straddled my hips, one hand running under my dress to feel along my bare leg.
I had some damn fine words to yell at his dumb face about this, but his face was suddenly much too close, and then his lips were on mine, the heat from his mouth strangely echoing the path of heat he was tracing up my thigh. And like a dumb kid with her first crush, I was abruptly without protest, though his tongue pushing past my yielding lips and gently exploring my mouth might have also had something to do with my sudden stillness.
"What the hell?" I repeated when Al broke the kiss to nuzzle at my neck and slide one shoulder of the dress down, giving his roaming mouth more skin to caress. The front of my dress was open, and I forced one hand up in between us to pull the fabric close; I wasn't wearing anything under the dress up top, and Al sure as hell wasn't getting that much of a show.
"Like I said Rachel, it's that whole trust thing you were going on about," Al said, his breath hot and tickling against my ear.
"Al…" I tried to tell him to stop, but his mouth was forcefully on mine again, and what started as me pushing against him and struggling under his insistent mouth turned into me kissing him back, meeting his demand with my own. Damn it.
When he finally pulled away to let me breathe for a moment, I couldn't stop the whimper that escaped my mouth. This was friggin' nuts, and I was scared silly that Al was on top of me, seemingly intent of kissing me until my brains melt and taking off my clothes and he wasn't taking the hint that I didn't want him. But then, one could argue I wasn't giving very good hints.
His mouth was back at my ear, one hand gently pulling my hair back. I shivered when he planted a small kiss there and gasped when his tongue flicked out and traced the edge of my ear. I still had one hand between us, holding the front of my dress closed, but my other hand had traced up his back quite of its own volition. I dropped that betrayer hand and tried to push Al away but was as successful as trying to budge a boulder.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I shouted, my voice high with fear but nearly drowned out by the cascade of water.
"Relax, Rachel. You need to just trust me and play along," Al growled in my ear, but it was anything but relaxing. Play along? What the hell did he think he was doing?
Clearly he thought he was getting somewhere, cause his shirt was gone in a shimmer of red haze. My breath caught in my chest and I took a moment to stare at his bare chest, the perfect pale skin pressing into me, the hard muscles I'd only seen hints of before, his dark nipples brushing against me. Damn it, I didn't want this, and arguing with naked or half-naked men was not my strong suit. Al took my silent distraction as consent, and I yelped when the cold night air wrapped around my waist. I let go of my front to try and push the skirt back down, my face turning a tomato red when I saw Al smile when he noticed I was wearing one of the lacy pairs of panties he'd stocked my room with.
I struggled against him, and he took the opportunity to seize both my hands in one of his own. I tried to kick out, but he ground himself against me, hard. I could feel his erection clearly, our most delicate bits only separated by his pants and my minimal panties.
"Please, Rachel," he was whispering in my ear, and I froze for a moment out of shock. Did he really think I'd let him screw me because he's said please?
Al, the tactical master of seizing opportunity by the forelock, took my moment of confusion to open the front of my dress completely. The cold air on my bare breasts made my nipples peak painfully quick. The heat of his mouth was enough to make me gasp. The warmth of him and the rhythmic sucking was confusing, confusing because I knew I didn't want this, but my body was starting to have second ideas. Then he pulled from a line, spindled the energy from his busy mouth to my aching breast, and I was glad for a moment I couldn't move my hands, I might have touched him back. It was exquisite, having so much of me in his mouth and him pouring bits of himself back into me. I wanted to cradle his head in my arms and push the energy back into him, cycle the line through us until we were both screaming. But he had me fairly immobile. The hand that wasn't imprisoning both of mine was resting intently on the inside of my thigh, gently stroking but not yet daring to move past my panties.
I closed my eyes and stifled a moan. He switched to the other breast, giving it just as much devoted attention. "Al," I gasped, feeling light-headed and even more confused. "Keep your damn trouser snake away from me."
Al's laugh was muffled against my skin, but he lifted his mouth enough to respond, his eyes holding mine and damn near twinkling with laughter. "What if I promise he won't bite?"
I might have laughed too, but the hand on my thigh moved away, and I heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper.
Al forced his mouth on me again, smothering my protests. I felt his body adjusting above me, and I shivered not entirely from fear when I felt his hard cock brush against my bare thigh.
"Softly, Rachel, so softly," he whispered against my lips, and I tried to blink away the tears in my eyes. Yeah, he was all bad boy hotness, and yeah, I admitted, some twisted part of me wanted him. But I hated that he wasn't giving me a choice, taking Dali's little performance as an opportunity to make it clear I was taken. For all I knew, the whole frickin' party was in the shrubs watching Al work.
Then his hand was there finally, pulling at my panties, and I felt like screaming. But someone did it for me.
"Get off her, you cuculus!"
And suddenly Al was gone. I yelped and fell off the lounge, pulling at my dress and trying to get most of myself covered. Most of the buttons were missing, the bastard.
Voices were raised, and I stood up, trying to see what the hell was going on. There were more people…err more demons, in the garden now. I strained my eyes, trying to see if Al was there. But I ducked back down, hiding behind the lounge. Newt's unmistakable androgynous form was there, her back to me as she peered over the railing. Oh shit, had she thrown Al that far?
"Hells bells, what is all this racket?" Dali's smooth, controlled voice cut in. People made way for him, and he fearlessly came to stand beside Newt. I could see his head tilt obsequiously, her angry gesture back towards the lounge. Dali's red demon eyes caught mine and I swear he was trying not to smile. What the hell? Had everyone really been watching? I was going to kill Al. That is, if Newt hadn't already done it.
Before I had a chance to really get concerned, I heard my demon's precise British voice shouting something I couldn't understand, but damn did he sound pissed.
Al appeared between the lounge and the railing, pointedly standing between me and Newt. I got shakily to my feet, one hand still awkwardly keeping the front of my dress closed. I might have felt better hiding, but everyone seemed to know I was there already, so no point in cowering behind the lawn furniture.
"She damn well knew what she was doing, and I want restitution from that bitch for interfering with my mating!" Al was yelling now that he was apparently done with the threats in the creepy language I thought must have been some native demonic tongue or something. I shivered a bit but it wasn't from the cold. Must not think anymore about tongues, demonic or otherwise.
But then his words penetrated my thick skull. His what? Is that what he'd meant by play along? Damn, I was going to kill him. He probably frickin' knew Newt and whoever else were near enough to see, or at least hear, and had set it all up, trusting Newt to freak out if she really thought me and Al were about to bump uglies. God, how far was had he planned on taking it? What if Newt hadn't stopped him?
Suddenly Al was beside me, and before I could freaking smash my fist into his face, he had an arm tightly around me.
"This could take awhile, dove. Why don't you go back and wait at home?" He made it sound like a suggestion, but he pushed me into the line and sent me back before I could get a four-letter word in edge-wise. The garden was gone, Al was gone, the crazy demon bitch was gone, and I was back in my room, alone. Damn it.
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Damn, I'm a tease, aren't I?
Wonder what happens next? Me too, so it might be a bit before the next chapter, sorries.
And a big thank you to VinylVictory. I'm properly contrite but I have stolen part of your Al's pet name for Rachel. There is just something about him calling her his kitty that I adore…
