It didn't matter how many parties she had been to since she and Georg became a couple, she still found them to be terribly dull and pointless. She didn't mind occasionally dressing up, enjoying the gowns she got to wear and the excuse to wear makeup and jewelry; she didn't really feel the need to on a day to day basis. But once she got past getting ready for the party, she was completely over it all. Aside from the few ladies around her age that she had decent conversations with, there wasn't much for her to do, spending most of her time eating finger foods and drinking champagne. Georg seemed to be drinking enough for the both of them, however, so she stuck to water this time.
She was a bit worried about him, about the work he was doing and what it seemed to be doing to him. He had been more irritable than usual and drinking quite a bit. He swore that his work was nearly done, but he rarely came to bed at a reasonable hour, and he could give her no actual timeline for it all. She wished he could simply mind his own business, for the sake of his family. She was very supportive of helping others, but not when it came to putting one's family and home at stake. She had heard the stories just as he had, and she knew how dangerous things were becoming in Austria.
"Georg, dance with me?" She smiled to him as a beautiful waltz began to play in the ballroom across the hall, turning at their table to meet his clouded eyes. He wasn't intoxicated, but had been drinking enough to feel quite tipsy, she imagined. He looked completely uninterested in her at the moment, chatting with a former navy friend whose name she couldn't remember.
"You know I don't dance at these parties." His words were flat, and she rolled her eyes. He was a bit too brooding for her liking that evening, so she decided to take a walk around the home. Calling it a home made her laugh to herself as she walked through one of the hallways; it was an absolute mansion. And it was incredibly beautiful.
She smiled to a few of the guests she knew, stopping and formally chatting here and there as she made her way through the rooms. She finally stopped in the ballroom, leaning against the wall with her glass of water as the couples danced happily in front of her. Remembering the time Georg danced with her at his own party, she desperately wished her husband would take her in his arms and twirl her around the dance floor. She knew it sounded tacky, but she missed the romance of their affair at times. He hadn't been terribly romantic since they became a real couple, and even though she didn't really mind all that, sometimes she would have liked a romantic gesture. It didn't have to be much.
"Baroness Von Trapp, how are you this evening?" She turned to find a young man approaching, taking her hand in his in a form of greeting.
"Quite well, thank you. I have to apologize, I don't feel we've met." He smiled, a bright, charming smile, and she found him to be quite attractive. She would have remembered meeting him, she knew.
"We have not. I am Baron Hanz Weber, my parents are the hosts of this party." She definitely knew his parents, had met them several times, but they never mentioned much about their son. He seemed to anticipate her question. "I've just completed my studies in England over the summer and returned home for the holiday."
"Congratulations. Completing one's studies is quite an accomplishment."
"Thank you. Yes, it does feel very rewarding. I only hope to use my craft rather than fighting in a war." She looked at him, feeling concerned about discussing politics at all. She knew several people at the party who were extreme Nazi supporters, and it made her anxious.
"Yes, well, let's hope it won't come to that." She smiled politely, looking back to the dancers before them.
"I'm aware that your husband shares my opinion on the state of our country. Being in England, I've seen the other side of things."
"Then you should know you are in the kind of company where you hold your tongue." She whispered harshly to him, meeting his eyes with concern. He nodded, sensing her unease with the topic of conversation.
"My apologies, Baroness. I simply have difficulty keeping my thoughts to myself." She chuckled a bit, knowing she had the same problem. It was comforting to know she wasn't the only one.
"Someone once told me that having that problem only means you're honest."
"And you believe that?"
"I've also been told I'm a terrible liar, so it must be true." He laughed, taking a sip of his champagne and moving a bit closer to her. She noticed his proximity, but didn't mind it. He seemed innocent enough, and terribly kind. It was nice to have someone new to talk to.
"My mother tells me you were on your way to becoming a nun when the Captain met you?" She scoffed, smiling as she met his eyes once more. His eyes were a deep blue, sparkling with something she couldn't pinpoint.
"It's amazing, that's the first thing I'm always asked about."
"Really it is?"
"Yes, everyone seems quite interested in the postulant who became a wife."
"I don't think it's that, Baroness." Her brow furrowed, she tilted her head in question.
"Whatever could it be then?"
"I believe we're all more interested in the postulant who became the mistress." She frowned, looking to the glass of water in her hands. Even after so long, she still knew what people said about her behind her back wasn't necessarily kind.
"I believe I must excuse myself. It was nice to meet you, Baron." She began to walk away, but he took her elbow in his hand, gently stopping her.
"I'm not looking to offend you. I'm simply letting you know why people ask about your former postulancy." She met his eyes, nodding as she tried to calm herself from taking offense. It was clear he didn't mean it at all the way she took it. "I apologize."
"No, I suppose there's no need." He removed his hand from her arm, and she turned beside him once more to watch the dance floor, the happy couples spinning hand in hand. "I'm afraid I'm a bit sensitive about it all. I've heard what people say."
"The women are jealous of the exciting love story, the men are jealous the Captain found a younger woman to fool around with. Don't think about any of it."
"I'm much more than all of that, I assure you." He smiled, placing his empty glass upon a table before taking her glass from her hands and doing the same.
"Yes, you've proven yourself to be quite witty and intelligent, just by this conversation. I have no patience for the nonsense floating around this circle. And it also appears you would like to dance?" He held out his hand, palm open to her. She stared at his fingers, no glove to separate their skin if she took his hand. It felt improper.
"I must decline. My husband wouldn't like it." He didn't move, giving her a smile that could have easily melted her had she not had her guard up.
"I don't see him spinning you around the dance floor."
"He doesn't dance at parties." He reached down and took her hand in his, she didn't pull away as she felt him gently leading her to the dance floor.
"Then he cannot take offense if you do." She smiled, placing her hand upon his shoulder as he pulled her close at the waist, beginning to fall into step with the couples surrounding them. She smiled as he whisked her around the dance floor, feeling as if her feet were barely touching the ground.
"You're quite the dancer." Her words were breathless, and she wondered if she was really that out of shape. Her yellow dress floated around her legs, the chiffon brushing against her skin as they drifted about.
"I learned a lot of things in England, dancing being one of them."
"I've never been to England. What other things did you learn?"
"I learned to drink proper tea, a few new swear words, and I learned a few things about women." She smiled, allowing him to spin her around before pulling her back to him. She felt his hand move a bit from her lower back to rest upon her hip, his fingers squeezing gently into the fabric of her dress.
"I think you'd better save what you learned for a different woman. I'm afraid you're wasting your time with me." He seemed shocked, surprised at her implication, or perhaps the way she had no trouble telling him what was on her mind.
"I'm hurt, Baroness. You think my intentions with you are less than honorable?" He spun her once more, bringing her back to him and dropping her into a dip, holding her still for a moment as he looked into her eyes.
"I'm afraid I do." He pulled her out of the dip and resumed dancing with her, his hand more appropriately placed upon her lower back.
"My apologies. I see a beautiful woman my age at one of these parties, and I can't stop myself." She smiled a bit, but equally felt the need to roll her eyes. No man aside from Georg had ever called her beautiful, and she had to admit it was very nice to hear. Even if he did only think he was going to get something out of it.
She couldn't decide why she continued dancing as the orchestra moved from song to song. She knew it was improper, and she should have stopped him after one dance, but she was having too much fun. The lightness she felt while dancing was more than she had expected, and she cherished those feelings that didn't come as often anymore. She was dreadfully happy with her husband, with her family, but there was something about simply being a woman for a moment that made her feel excited.
"May I cut in?" Suddenly, Georg was standing next to them, his mouth in a tight line of anger, and she felt her heart sink.
"Darling, this is..."
"I don't much care." He held out his open palm expectantly, and she placed her hand in his, nodding her goodbye to her former dance partner. Georg led her to a corner of the dance floor, spinning her a bit as he began to dance with her.
"I've finally found the way to get you to dance! I thought you didn't dance at parties." She smiled excitedly, loving the fact that he was standing so close to her, moving her about the room. Dancing with him, much like making love to him, made her feel enveloped in love, safe and secure.
"And I thought you were my wife." She frowned, feeling her guard sliding quickly into place as she felt a little less secure at his tone.
"Of course I am."
"From what I saw when I came to find you, it was obvious that I was not the man on your mind." She frowned, feeling him spin her a bit more harshly as they moved about the dance floor, his hand grasping hers tightly.
"You have no idea what you saw."
"No? You don't want to fuck that man?" She blushed heavily, nearly gasping at his words. She sincerely hoped no one else was able to hear their conversation, or she certainly would never gain a better reputation.
"Georg, honestly."
"Yes, honestly. You were practically throwing yourself at him."
"I wasn't at all. We were only dancing."
"Dancing never leads to more?" She narrowed her eyes at him, knowing full well that he was reminding her of the passionate love they made after they shared their first dance.
"Not with anyone who isn't you. How dare you say such things to me?"
"I'll say what I damn well please to you."
"Then I'll dance with who I damn well please." He stopped moving, holding her so tightly against him that she could feel the heat of his skin through their clothes. She only wished she could have been more angry instead of incredibly turned on by him at the moment. The heat of his body, and the passion in his eyes made her feel flushed.
"Your lack of obedience..."
"I'm not a dog, you will not find obedience with me." His eyes narrowed, his jaw tight as he looped her arm through his and pulled her from the dance floor. She did her best not to trip over herself as he pulled, obviously not caring if the other guests saw him being rough with her. Her former dance partner gave her an apologetic look as he nodded to her in a form of goodbye.
"We've been married only a month and a half, and already..."
"Already what, Georg? A man noticed me?"
"And you noticed him."
"So you don't notice any of the women who look at you?" He stopped pulling her and took a deep breath, instead leading her to a bench in a quiet hallway, just near the bathrooms. He was in no shape to drive if they were arguing. Most of the guests were in the ballroom, so it was private enough. He sat first, motioning to the spot next to him for her to take. She crossed her arms as she sat, impatiently looking into his eyes. He was obviously trying to calm himself. "Answer me."
"Of course I notice them, I'm not faulting you for noticing someone. But you've never seen me dance or engage in conversation with a woman who was interested, have you?"
"Not in front of me."
"So you're implying that I take them to little back hallways like this so you can't see?"
"No, of course not. You would have to stop brooding for a moment to do that." She sighed, biting her lip in frustration. Even though she was sure she had done nothing wrong, a part of her did feel a bit guilty for enjoying the Baron's attention. It felt so nice to be noticed.
"He looks to be your age. That doesn't appeal to you?" She scoffed, meeting his eyes once more.
"This again? No it does not. You're my husband, you're the only man I want."
"You left me sitting alone to go and dance with..."
"I left you alone because I could not be more exhausted by you tonight. You bring me to these parties, ignore me all night while you drink and sulk in a corner. You refuse to have fun or dance with me..."
"So you did this to make me jealous?"
"I danced because I wanted to dance. That's the end of it." She stood, beginning to walk toward the front door to leave for the car, but he took her hand, roughly pulling her back toward him.
"So you're telling me you thought about fucking another man because I wouldn't dance with you?" She turned quickly, ripping her hand from his grasp.
"Of course not. Stop saying that to me."
"It's true, isn't it?" He stood, walking so he was face to face with her, challenging her. She narrowed her eyes, wanting nothing more equally than to slap his smug face and kiss him in that moment. "He pulled you close and you were instantly soaked between your thighs."
"Georg." She looked around, and thankfully they were completely alone, no one to hear the way he was speaking to her.
"You wondered if he was as good in bed as he was at dancing." Suddenly she grabbed his wrist and pulled him down the hallway, into the bathroom before she slammed the door and locked it. She kicked off her shoes, lifting her dress over her hips as she moved closer to him. "What on earth are you doing?"
She took his hand in her own and shoved it into the front of her panties, her fingers moving his between her warm folds. He gasped, taken by complete surprise by her actions as she leaned closer to his face.
"If I'm wet, it's because of you, you stupid man." She moved her fingers over his, guiding him to rub against her. She leaned back against the counter to spread her legs a bit more, pushing his fingers to her opening to feel how wet she was. "I'm your wife. Possess me, then."
"Here?"
"Anywhere. Mark your territory. Be a man. Let them all hear how you make me cry out."
"Maria..." He couldn't form words as she continued to move his hand against her. She took her free hand and ran it over the front of his pants, feeling the bulge beneath twitch.
"You clearly want to. Unless it's another woman you're thinking about?" He angrily grabbed her wrists, slamming them against the countertop, and she could feel the coolness of the marble against her skin. He ground his hips into hers, shoving her harder into the counter.
"Are you thinking of another man?"
"The only man I ever want to fuck is you." His lips crashed onto hers, possessively biting as he shoved his tongue between her lips. She sighed into his mouth, moving her hips against his and feeling him hardening even more at the contact. He kissed down her neck, biting at her collarbone, and she knew he was leaving his mark on her pale skin as he held her wrists in place upon the counter. He only released her to unbutton his pants, and she hurried to push her panties down her legs to avoid him ripping them off.
She missed him, missed his attention, and if she had to fight with him to get it, she would. It was obviously an unhealthy way to approach his lack of attention to her, but she decided to worry about that later. She needed him desperately, needed his hard heat between her legs. She was tired of being put in second place to whatever "secret project" he was working on.
He lifted her as if she were weightless, sitting her upon the counter as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He entered her swiftly, both of them trying their best to muffle the groans that threatened to escape their lips. She leaned back, knocking over a soap dish as she held herself in place, tilting her hips higher as he pushed one of her legs over his shoulder, thrusting deeply into her willing body. He kissed her leg that was against his cheek, biting a bit as he stifled a moan. He apparently had not realized just how much he had been needing her as well.
He quickly pulled out, lifting her from the counter and shoving her against the full-length mirror on the wall. He lifted her dress and she tilted her hips back to take him in again, bracing herself with her hands against the wall on either side of the mirror. He thrust hard, deep into her body, and she saw her breath cloud the mirror as he pushed her against it, his hands gripping tightly to her hips.
He reached around her front, his hand sliding over her breasts before resting upon her throat, squeezing just a bit. She moaned against the mirror, the sound of her own pleasure reverberating back to her as if it were somebody else entirely. He was sending jolts of electricity through every inch of her skin, his thrusts becoming more wild as their bodies begged for their release. His teeth found her earlobe, biting as he held her close by her neck.
"Watch your face as I take you." She met her own blue eyes, filled with lust and pure adrenaline. Her cheeks were flushed, his hand grasped about her throat as his lips held her earlobe between them. The thin straps of her dress had fallen, threatening to reveal her breasts. She met his eyes through the mirror, gaining another squeeze against her throat, and she gasped in pleasure.
"Georg..." Her voice was breathless, her body pulsing.
"You are mine." He thrust harder, punctuating his words. A weak-sounding whimper escaped her. "All mine."
She gasped, her body convulsing as he pumped into her. She came hard, the fury of their argument and the tension in her pelvis too much to bear. He held her close as her body weakened, her head falling back against his shoulder as she nearly cried out. Her body tightening around him was too much to bear, and he nearly fell forward as he came. He caught them with his hand against the wall, as their bodies flexed and coiled around one another in their passion.
Gasping for air, he kissed her neck, finally taking her hair in his hand and pulling her lips to his for a kiss. Their throbbing connection nearly caused them to fall over as their tongues battled for dominance in their kiss, bodies pressed against the mirror in a mess of sweat and pleasure. He finally pulled out, allowing her dress to fall over her hips as he hugged her close.
"Georg." Her voice was quiet, completely weak and out of breath. "I love you."
"I love you so much, darling." He kissed her cheek, her neck, anywhere his lips could reach as he held her from behind. "I'm sorry for the things I said, for being so distant..."
"You know I would never..."
"I know. I promise, I know." He turned her around, pulling her close in an embrace. "I'm so sorry."
"Take me home?" He smiled, leaning back to meet her eyes. She returned his smile, finally feeling the tension subside from them.
"First, I believe I owe you a dance."