Nights in White Satin

by

A.G. Prentice

XIV – Checkmate

Never had it been harder for Michaela to tear herself away from Sully's sensuous, all-consuming kisses and caresses. Her need to love, protect, and nurture him at all costs, coupled with her relief over his physical and emotional recovery, exploded into a fierce desire that set her entire body afire within seconds. No amount of Boston restrictions could have quelled that burning longing, but it was the doctor in her who ended up being the voice of reason.

"I believe I said complete rest, didn't I?" she uttered breathlessly.

Sully could only groan in protest, as the irresistible tide of his arousal had already rejuvenated his vitality.

"As much as I trust my doctor, I think this time she may be a little overprotective. My wife can take care o' me just fine," he teased, his innuendo openly provocative.

Michaela found herself on the verge of giving in to temptation, but the fear of a relapse, as well as a returning trace of misgivings that she might be allowing herself to become overly lascivious, shook her out of her trance-like state. Before he could tighten his embrace to hold her captive, she had slithered out of the circle of his arms and out of bed. Despite the unmistakable flicker of sexual frustration in her eyes, she still spoke with determination when she rebuffed him.

"I'm afraid your wife must agree with your doctor right now… we both want you to get proper rest and nourishment." She raised her eyebrows as to challenge him, but when he didn't object, but merely stuck his bottom lip out in disappointment, she concluded, "so I'm going to order breakfast, and then we'll have to find a quiet past-time…"

Feigning resignation, he laid back on the pillows, with his hands laced behind his head, trying to relax. Yet, just seeing her move around the room and picturing her removing her nightgown and putting on her clothes was enough to sustain his restlessness, and he started devising a plan to outsmart his wife's doctoring instinct…

One hour later, they were silently sitting side by side on the bed, empty plates, cups and coffee pot on large trays before them. Their denied longing was still pulsating in the air around them, creating a tension that was hard to bear for them both.

Michaela was trying to avoid meeting his eyes, which she knew were on her, watching her every move. It was as if his soul possessed invisible arms that were reaching out to her, pulling her into an unbreakable embrace. All too aware of how close she was to caving in, she proposed the first pastime that popped in her mind. "How about we borrow a chessboard from the game room?" she offered, hoping it would be either challenging or serious enough to take both their minds off their rather demanding bodily appetites.

Sully turned up his nose at the prospect at first, but then reconsidered – he knew how to play, and maybe… he grinned as he imagined ways of teasing her out of her professional shield. He could tell she was fighting her desire for him, and that flattered and humbled him at the same time, that she could want him so much while remaining so concerned about his well-being that she was denying her own needs. His copy of Leaves of Grass was also a possible option. But the more he thought about it, the more a game of chess seemed a good idea. A very good idea…

When he acquiesced to her offer, Michaela missed the telltale twinkle in his eyes as she rushed out, glad she had a plausible reason to escape from the room, and from her husband's irresistible appeal. Of course, she could have simply summoned a bellhop to fetch the game set for her, but she needed the few minutes apart to pull herself together. On this score, she was truly surprised at herself… just a few days before, she would have never imagined that it was possible for a woman to feel that way, drawn so strongly to her lover, like a magnet to steel. Yet as she walked down the corridor towards the staircase, she rubbed her arms to try to dispel the gooseflesh there, brought out by the frustrated amorous tension within her body, took deep, calming breaths, and tried hard to steer her mind from its stubborn direction – Sully, his loving touch, his voice velvet-soft as he murmured endearments against her ear, his… STOP! Stop it! She stopped a moment in her tracks, unsure whether she should laugh at herself, cry, or forget all about the stupid game, go back to the room, and give in to her need… No, no and NO! How dare you think something like this! What will Sully think of you if you impose yourself on him, especially after ordering him to rest?

When she came back to their suite, she still wasn't as composed as she would have preferred to be, but Sully, on the other hand, had managed to steel his features into a calm façade, even as he noticed her remaining agitation. He would have to find a way to convince her that it was perfectly all right for her to be the one to initiate their intimacy, and that unless he was seriously sick, he would be more than eager to let her have her way with him.

Silently, Michaela set up the board and pieces, and Sully chivalrously let her take the whites and make the first move. Since they had never played chess together before, Michaela had no idea what kind of opponent Sully would be, so at first she went easy on him, reining in her penchant for ruthless competition. No need to make him feel intimidated… but after a few deft moves from him, she realized that her husband was actually a challenging adversary, and her jumbled thoughts suddenly cleared as she drew all of her focus on the game, fully intent on not letting him win.

Indeed the match ended in stalemate, with her king trapped by Sully's queen and king. Unwilling to lose face, she challenged him to another game, and this time, she played to win. Sully had to chuckle as she triumphantly cried, "Checkmate!" and he was seriously considering his options for retaliating, but again she forestalled him by announcing it was time to get ready for lunch.

"Do you feel well enough to go downstairs, or should I order room service again?"

Knowing that he would not be allowed in the dining room wearing his buckskins, Sully was very tempted by the second option… and yet, it would be a good move to dress up, not only because he knew how much she enjoyed seeing him in a suit, but it would also show her that he felt very well rested indeed. In addition, if a nap was in her post-lunch plans, he fully intended to show her that the word could take on a whole other meaning between married people.

"Let's go," he stated decisively, as he sprang out of bed in his usual sleek manner and, sending a mischievous wink her way, went to the wardrobe to get his suit and start dressing – deliberately standing naked in front of her and moving around the room.

She froze, as pleasantly surprised to see him so apparently… hardy, as she was flustered by the sight of him in such complete nakedness. She was now familiar enough with his body that she wasn't blushing with shyness, but rather, the sight seemed to draw her gaze like a bee to a flower. Michaela Anne! Don't stand there gaping! she scolded herself…

"'Chaela? Can ya put on that one?"

Startled out of her musings by his request, she saw that he had taken out her powder blue silk dress, the one she had brought home from her trip to Boston and worn at the Sweetheart Dance. The memory of that enchanting evening brought an instant smile to her face, and she was more than happy to comply when she saw the expectant gleam in his eyes. She joined him and, as she took the garment from his hands, she stood on her tiptoes to give him what she intended to be a small but affectionate and appreciative kiss. Yet, she found herself ensnared into a deep, heated one before she had time to process its happening, and the passion that had simmered below the surface all morning burst forth and overcame them. Dropping their apparels unceremoniously, he was a split second away from scooping her into his arms and carrying her to their bed when, with a supreme effort of will, she yanked herself from his hold.

"No… no, no," she whispered plaintively, "we can't… not now…"

"Why not?" he asked rhetorically as her reasons for resisting their feelings were easy to guess, but he wanted her to articulate them out loud. Irrefutable arguments – especially when it came to her doctoring – were usually one of her strengths to get her patients, or anyone else for that matter, to comply with her wishes, but he could play that game, too.

"Because…"

"Because?"

Her eyes snapped open, and he saw in their shimmering depths a raw emotion, mirroring the one she had displayed in an uncannily similar situation. Only this time, the tables were turned on her. He was the one demanding an unequivocal answer. Would she blurt out "Because I love you" in the heat of the moment, he mused.

She didn't, though. She could barely remember why they should refrain from being intimate in the first place, her desire for him like a whirlpool in which she was spiraling out of control, drowning into it the same way she was drowning in his eyes.

"Because?" he insisted.

She clung desperately to the last shreds of her coherent mind and tried to get the rhythm of both her breathing and heartbeat to a less alarmingly high speed as she – quite reluctantly – answered him, "Because I don't want you to overexert yourself when… when you… only just recovered. You still need to… to rest…"

Sully chuckled.

"I told ya, you don't gotta be so worried 'bout me… I'm fine."

Oh God… his voice… she shivered, and closed her eyes again, trying to break the spell cast by his mere presence, much less his sensual magnetism.

"Only thing that's wrong with me now," he went on, his tone dropping lower still, "is that I've been feelin' kinda tense all mornin'… as you have… and there's only one thing I can think of that'd make us feel all better." There was no possible doubt regarding the nature of that thing in her mind, and if she had felt like she had been on fire before, it was nothing compared to how she was feeling presently.

Sully pondered – with difficulty – whether he should pursue his seduction, seeing how close she was to yielding, or if he should wait until they were back from the dining room. He knew all he would have to do would be to pull her back into his arms again, and kiss her senseless. Yet, any encounter initiated before lunch would have to be rather hurried… and he certainly much preferred taking his time when it came to making love with his wife!

"I'll make a deal with ya. We go down, and after lunch, I'll challenge you to another game of chess. Winner gets to decide what we're gonna do this afternoon," he concluded, grinning roguishly, his heart pounding expectantly as part of him secretly hoped that Michaela would want him so bad that she would reject the proposition and be the one to drag him to the bed. And yet again, it still might be a bit too soon for her to follow her own impulses. Better pull on the brake, *now*, before we cross the line! They were already hovering dangerously close to the point of no return…

He silently congratulated himself as he saw the fierce spark of competition returning in her eyes, and as she actually took up the gauntlet. She was playing right into his hands!

"Deal!"

Though the process of changing into the blue gown, with all of the petticoats and the now dreaded corset, not to mention putting her hair up, had taken quite a while, Michaela was still feeling the after-effects of their rather piquant teasing when she and Sully went to the dining room. She barely paid attention to what was on the menu, picked at her food and only drank water, as her mouth stayed stubbornly dry. Sully noticed her uncharacteristic moodiness and wondered whether he should be glad for it, or worried. Had he been guilty of letting things go too far between them earlier? He had never heard about women having that kind of physiological threshold beyond which it was hard to settle down, like it happened to men, but then, why not? He frowned slightly at the thought that he might have caused discomfort to his wife and was more determined than ever to get her to take a loving nap with him after lunch. And forget that game!

"Michaela, you all right?" he asked after she released yet another soft sigh.

Her head snapped up, and she graced him with her customary crooked grin.

"Yes. I guess I'm just not very hungry."

"Me neither," he returned, raising his eyebrows, as if to signify to her that he was ready to go back to their suite if she was. But he hadn't counted on Michaela being able to remain the ever-professional doctor even as the wife – the lover – in her was so obviously champing at the bit to return to their private quarters. Her smile fell as concern laced her features.

"Are you still feeling nauseous?"

"Nope. I'm fine. 'Chaela… stop frettin' about the megrim, it's gone." Feeling her eyes scrutinize him in search for signs of mendaciousness, he said, lowering his voice and regarding her pointedly, "I ain't hungry… for food… same as you, I'd wager…"

His statement served to make her skin turn a few darker shades of pink, and she had to avert her gaze, slightly embarrassed that her innermost feelings could be so easy to read. Yet, maybe only Sully could tell, because he knew her so well – she certainly hoped so. In that case, did she really mind that he read her like an open book…? Her heart fluttered at the thought, and she lifted her gaze up to meet his again, the unwitting seductive gleam back in her eyes.

So, when he quickly wiped his mouth on his napkin and indicated with a swift motion of his head the direction of the staircase, she didn't need more of an invitation. Fingers threaded tightly, they ascended the stairs and scurried straight to their room, their feet moving faster with each step.

As the door closed, Michaela expected Sully to take her in his arms right away, to start undressing her, or lead her to their bed, but when he directed her to the couch, she cast him a puzzled look.

"Deal's a deal," he reminded her, intentionally using his most seductive tone. "And I plan to make it sweet."

He kissed her teasingly, long and deep enough to weaken any resistance she might have, but not so it would prompt them to lose complete control yet. Light-headed and breathless, Michaela dropped onto the settee, trying to regain her senses while Sully went to fetch the chessboard they had left on the bed. A maid had come to straighten the room while they were downstairs, and she had put it on the console table that stood between the French windows.

When he settled on the footrest on the other side of the coffee table and replaced the pieces to start the game, she eyed him with a mixture of tender exasperation and longing. "That wasn't very fair play," she breathed.

Sully knew she was referring to his kiss, and grinned wickedly. "Ya know what they say," he retorted, fixing her with an ardent stare, "All's fair in love and war…"

"Is that so?"

"Told ya, winner gets to decide what we do next… so, I'm willin' to do whatever it takes to win."

"No mercy?"

"Nope," he answered, elongating the word as he shook his head slowly, his eyes glittering with mischievous intent.

With that the contest began, and it was indeed a ruthless match. Michaela pulled out all the stops and played her most clever moves and tactics, while Sully continued his attempts to distract her. When it appeared that she couldn't win on quick-wittedness only, she resolved to retaliate by turning his destabilizing strategy back on him. But… how could she do that? Sully only had to look at her in a certain way, as if his eyes were undressing her, caressing her, for her to feel as warm and aroused as if he was effectively touching her. He only had to breathe a bit more heavily than he usually did, his nostrils flaring, to communicate the urgency of his desire. It was also in the way his fingers manipulated the chess pieces to move them – slow and careful, yet confident and deliberate. Or maybe it was her own desire that was coloring her perceptions… oh how she wished she could exude the same level of subtle seduction and make him dearly pay for what he was doing to her!

Actually, she had indeed been mirroring his behavior, casting smoldering looks at him and caressing the game pieces – yet she was naively unaware of how intensely provocative her gestures were coming across. So much so that, halfway through the game, while it seemed that neither one could really get the upper hand, Sully was nearing the end of his rope. Those eyes… O those mesmerizing eyes of hers! And her scent, it seemed to pervade the room, that intoxicating mix of velvety skin and flowers warmed by a summer sun. His lips ached to kiss the graceful lines of her throat framed so perfectly by the fine lace and silk! His eyes were repeatedly drawn to the shadowy valley of her breasts, barely noticeable above the rather demure neckline of her gown. Each time she bent forward to move a piece and they became slightly more pronounced, he would swallow unconsciously.

The final straw was when she removed the pins out of her bun and shook her long tresses loose. He gulped, as entranced by the glorious sight of her hair as ever. Talk 'bout not playin' fair! He lost his focus then, and Michaela took full advantage of his distraction. In three quite aggressive moves, she sacrificed her remaining rook and bishop, but took his queen and checkmated him with her knight.

"I won!" she exclaimed, laughing and very pleased with herself.

Sully raised his hands in mock surrender. He didn't particularly mind losing – at least the confounding game was finally over!

"So? What d'ya wanna do now?" he managed.

War raged within her, her senses painfully alert and her body tense with her hunger for him, while her mind reeled with all sorts of warnings, most of them making less and less sense as seconds ticked by…

Control yourself.

Determinedly making her decision, she abruptly rose, though her knees felt like they were about to give way, and she moved to the bed. Turning down the covers, she patted the mattress invitingly.

"I ordered bed rest this morning, and bed rest is what you're getting, Mr. Sully," she directed, trying hard to keep her voice from sounding breathless or faltering.

"Sure," he answered with a strange lilt in his voice she didn't know what to make of – though her instinct guessed that he was up to something. Trying to quell her mounting anxiousness, she tried to give herself some countenance by smoothing out the bed sheets.

And then, before she even realized he had sneaked up behind her, she felt his hands groping for the clasps of her bodice.

"Sully!" she protested, albeit halfheartedly.

"I told ya, the only way you can keep me in bed today is to get under the covers with me…"

"But –"

"No buts. It ain't negotiable. Ya may have won the game… but since ya cheated –"

"I most certainly did not!" she objected indignantly, turning to face him.

"Yeah you did! You're too dang beautiful, usin' them wiles, flirtin' with me like that. Man can't think straight…" he griped teasingly, since he had actually enjoyed every second of her flirtatious seduction.

The well-aimed compliment could have disarmed her, but her competitive self would not let her be placated that easily.

"And what were you doing, over there? Weren't you trying to distract me?"

"Only to get back at ya… tell ya what, I get in bed, but you keep me company, and we call it –"

"Even…" they said together.

"Fine," she concluded primly, "On one condition – you must rest!"

We'll see about that, he thought, grinning to himself. When he reached again for the fastenings of her dress, she swatted at his hand lightly.

"I don't need your help to undress, thank you, and you can change all by yourself, over there," she chided, pointing to the bathroom door. Her feeble attempts to reject temptation and put off the inevitable were even more amusing than frustrating, so he complied with her wishes without a fuss, knowing it would be only a matter of time before she surrendered. At least he hoped so…

Michaela was torn – again. She longed to join with Sully, to lie with him, skin to skin, kissing and caressing. Her husband seemed perfectly well now and an afternoon interlude would certainly not cause him any harm… I've been feelin' kinda tense all mornin'… as you have… and there's only one thing I can think of that'd make us feel all better, his voice kept repeating over and over in her mind, exacerbating her frustration… Yet, images of him sprawled on the floor, moaning in pain, or retching with nausea, flashed through her memory. The doctor in her really wanted him to rest…

Earlier, she had considered giving him a massage, to get him to fully relax and maybe putting him into a much-needed sleep. But now, the mere thought of the feel of his warm, smooth skin under her fingers sufficed to send jolts of desire shooting through her, the wife locked in furious battle with the physician.

Sully's reappearance just then, clad only in his cotton breeches, put paid to further inner deliberation.

"How come ya didn't change into somethin' more comfortable?" he remarked, striving to sound innocuous.

"Er… perhaps it's wiser…"

He went to her and, winding his arms tightly around her waist so that she couldn't escape, he allowed his lips to graze her cheek, whispering in her ear, "You mean ya prefer wearin' that chastity belt to bein' with me?"

Trapped in his arms as well as in the cage of fire of her unquenched desire, all she could do was to shake her head. All Sully had to do was to take her lips and all was lost. The long awaited kiss was like a lit match to their highly inflamed senses, and passion flared as hotly as a burning inferno after a dynamite explosion.

But Sully, being an expert powder man, knew better than to pour it on too heavily and let them be consumed on the spot. He unexpectedly released her, and resumed his earlier task of unfastening her clothes, noticing with satisfaction that this time not only didn't she try to stall him, she actually participated to the process.

Having become skilled at the removal of excessive feminine garments, within two minutes, Sully had her down to her camisole and pantaloons, but as he reached for the ribbons that held them in place, she gently seized his wrists to stop him.

"Sully…" she began, her eyes searching his.

"Somethin' on your mind?"

There was so much she needed to tell him, to show him, that she didn't know where to begin… how she appreciated his patience, his understanding, but also his persistence. How he was making her feel so cherished! But words and gestures seemed to her so shallow compared to the magnitude of her feelings.

Sully understood that she still needed time, and maybe a little help, to articulate her most intimate thoughts and needs. Maybe she would never fully overcome the puritan mentality she had known all her life, but he simply loved her too much to really mind, and if anything, her reserve endeared her to him all the more and made her bolder, more sensual side even more exciting. When she didn't answer him, he didn't press her, but gently took her hand, leading her to the bed onto which they laid down – or more accurately fell – kissing breathlessly.

After hours of teasing, delaying and struggling, their nerves were beyond frayed and aching with so much pent-up need that even Sully's last shreds of self-control crumbled, and Michaela was just as powerless to resist any longer. The last barriers of cotton that remained between them seemed to magically vanish and soon they were moving together as one, their fervor knowing no limit. And in the spur of those intense moments, her body reacted in yet another new way, writhing and arching into his to meet each of his thrusts, the rhythm of her movements synchronized with his – so perfectly, actually, that Sully was overcome with the need for release even sooner than he had dreaded. Fortunately he held out just long enough to bring his wife along with him to that golden, brightly lit place where the only thing that existed any more was the trinity formed by two lovers and their pleasure – which reached such an intensity that, for a while, they remained silent, their breathing still reduced to a shallow panting, their eyes locked as if transfixed in absolute adoration.

It did take some time for them to regain their sense of reality. Michaela's first lucid thought was that they had done exactly what she had deemed too premature and tiring for him so early after the crisis he had suffered. The frown that creased her forehead wasn't lost on Sully, and he had no trouble guessing what it meant. Tenderly, he nuzzled her neck, cheek and temple, and smiled softly at her, deeply moved by her concern.

"Ya don't gotta worry anymore, Dr. Mike," he said, unable to resist a bit more teasing and also hoping she would see the truth of his words through his light-hearted tone. "Told ya my wife could take care of me just fine. See?" he extended his arm with a flourish, "I was all tense, and some good lovin' from her made me all better!"

For a few seconds, Michaela couldn't answer, as she processed the meaning of what he was saying. As to drive the nail home, Sully added, "Sometimes, love is the best remedy."

Returning his smile at last, she wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer for a kiss.

"I can certainly concur with that!"