Fallen - chapter 18
Clarisse pulled the car into her driveway and switched the engine off. For a few seconds they sat in darkness neither saying a word, Clarisse still gripping the steering wheel. Finally she leant into the back seat and grabbed her handbag, rummaging along the seat she realised she had left the umbrella at Rose's house. They would just have to get wet.
Locating the house keys in her bag she swung open the car door and stepped out into the rain. She waited for Joseph to do the same, lifted her head up a little, allowing the cool water to run down her face, down her neck, disappearing between her breasts.
Hearing the other car door shut she slammed her own and half-ran to the house. The security lights came on and she unlocked the door and stepped inside. Her heels sounded eerily loud on the tiled floor as she crossed to the sink, dropping her bag on the side she turned the tap on and took a glass from the cupboard.
She closed her eyes as she drank, listening as Joseph finally entered the house as well, he must be soaked, lord knows what he had been doing outside. They hadn't spoken in almost an hour now and she was still at a loss to find something to say, to argue with him or offer her sympathy. She could never marry him, surely he knew that…
Placing the empty glass on the side she pulled the wet scarf from her shoulders and dropped it next to her bag before turning. Joseph stood across the room from her, leaning back on the table edge. He looked weary, almost afraid.
She tried to find her voice but it failed her. Folding her hands together she crossed to him, as she neared he stood up, ready for her harsh words. She opened her arms, raised her hands and attempted to speak.
"I…" she swallowed, her throat felt tight despite the water.
Dropping her arms to her sides she gave up, she stepped even closer to him, her body touching his slightly. There was a deep warmth emanating from her stomach and spreading through her body, her desire to be touched by him had turned into some wanton need roaming throughout her.
She felt on the precipice of something, she was unsure what, longing to plunge into what she knew was there waiting for her. To finally cross that barrier that had kept them separate for so long.
In a split second her mind collapsed with the rush of arguments against it, her desire took over; she almost leapt forward, her mouth crushing against his angrily and forcefully.
He was unprepared and he fell back a little against the table, she tasted so good; sweet as honey, pure as milk and air, sustaining him. Their mouths moulded together hotly; he felt his heart thumping in his chest and was sure she must have heard it too. The blood seemed to vibrate in every nerve ending making it painful for him to even try and breathe.
Eventually he lifted his arms around her body, locking them around her back until her body was fully against his. He could not stop kissing her; yearning to fill this void he had inside, to have her as part of his body, part of his soul. He was aware of her hands roaming over his back, down his spine, sending tiny shockwaves through him. They had kissed before in the palace, never like this, he'd never allowed himself to feel like this.
Daring himself he allowed his hands to move over her back, over the damp dress, feeling the shape of her bra beneath it. She was sucking on his bottom lip, her tongue moving into his mouth, tasting him. He did the same, finding it the most natural thing in the world to explore her mouth.
His hands fell further down her back, sliding over the material that clung to her skin, he cupped her backside and she moaned into his mouth. He heard himself do the same, was ashamed of how badly he wanted her, of how hard he was already. God she could probably bring him to orgasm by just moving her body against his right here.
He realised her hands were at his neck pulling his tie loose, they had moved across the room somehow and he pressed her back against the work surface. His tie discarded she moved to his trousers and made short work of his belt.
He pressed his lower body into hers, her leg lifted around his and he lifted her up until she was sitting on the surface. She had pulled his shirt free from his trousers and her hands were travelling up over his bare skin. His mouth slid from hers, he nipped her chin, then licked down her neck, her hands were on his shoulders now, her nails digging into him.
There was a raw primitive need cursing through her, a complete an absolute need to fuse with him. Her leg was wrapped around his waist, the other somewhat wedged against the side, she was straddling him, there on the kitchen surface.
Her head fell back and rested on one of the cupboards, Joseph's hands were riding up her legs, one on each, her dress eagerly pushed aside. She longed to touch him; she could feel him hard against her inner thigh.
His mouth moved back up her neck to join with hers again. His hands were trembling as he attempted to slip her dress from her shoulders. His need was bare and pure, almost painful in his want to touch her skin.
"Joseph…" she murmured. It was the first word either of them had spoken. "Joseph, not here."
He held her face, kissing her mouth deeply. He moaned her name.
She reached for his hands, folding her fingers with his. "Upstairs." She whispered.
He moved back from her for a second, still holding her hands, she slipped down from the side and into his body, kissing him again instantly. Somehow they managed to make their way across the room, into the lounge, for a second she considered staying there and making use of the sofa, but no she wanted him in her bed. No more games.
The stairs were a problem, Clarisse led holding both of his hands in hers, he was kissing her fingers as they climbed. She had never felt so adored, so worshipped and vibrantly sexual.
Her room was dark yet to put the lights on seemed invasive; instead she turned on her small reading lamp, enough light to see him. He watched as she pulled the sheets back, barely able to contain himself, he was so hard now it was uncomfortable.
Mesmerised he watched as she took hold of the hem of her dress and lifted it over her head dropping it to the floor. Her underwear was black and lacy, and the sight of her pale skin in it made his entire body shudder with want.
She was the one to move to him, he studied her hands as she opened each button of his shirt and drew it back. She pushed the material off his arms and bent, kissing his chest. He shivered at her touch.
"Clarisse..." Her name fell from his lips; his eyes closed as he opened the clasp on her bra and felt her breasts silky and heavy fill his hands. He fondled her already hard nipples, tiny circles that brought pure ecstasy to her body.
She continued to kiss her way across his chest whilst her hands opened his trousers, he groaned loudly when her hand delved inside and came into contact with him.
She sensed his urgency and pushed his trousers and briefs down his legs before leading him to the bed. He lay down on his side, she knelt next to him bending to kiss him again, his hands quickly found her breasts and she fell down next to him. Eyes closed and her skin humming with pleasure, Clarisse shifted onto her side, her back to him. His mouth was on her neck, one hand tracing patterns over her stomach whilst the other moved from one breast to the other.
She felt him behind her, stiff against her lower back, and she reached around to stroke him with her fingers. Gently at first as he bit into her shoulder with surprise, then as he moaned against her skin she moved from base to tip, again and again. He fell onto his back and she turned with him, watching his face as he fought for control over his body. His muscled arms raised above his head, resting on her pillows, one hand holding his other wrist.
She watched the effects of her touch race across his face, contorted with utter pleasure, needing to fall into the bliss she was giving him, yet wanting to pull himself back from the edge and give her the same pleasure. He twisted on the bed, his body rising up to hers. She lay down next to him continuing her sweet torture, he regained his senses and moved his arms, tracing his hands down the sides of her body he reached between her legs and began to gently rub her there.
His face was buried in her hair, his breathing deep and uneven. She realised her mouth was open and tiny noises were coming from the back of her throat. He had taken her panties down, she kicked them off and now her legs were spread as he touched her. She still held him in her hand, but it was slower now as she struggled to maintain the rhythm and not lose herself completely in the tightness forming in her lower stomach.
He rolled her over, leant over her back and kissed her head, down the back of her neck, down her spine. She lifted her head to watch him; he was licking the inside of her thighs. He saw her watching, his eyes were dark and penetrating, she closed hers and let her head fall back to the pillow as his tongue soothed the heat between her legs.
With his mouth and both hands Joseph skilfully brought Clarisse to a climax, she was no longer aware of where she was, of Joseph, of anything else in the universe apart from the sheer focused ecstasy that was simultaneously draining her body of energy and yet completely filling her with bliss, joy, contentment…
When she opened her eyes again she found she was now on her back and Joseph was kissing his way up her stomach, she felt her cheeks red and burning, her chest rising heavily as she struggled to control her breathing.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered continuing to kiss and lick her skin. "Absolutely beautiful."
"Joseph." She breathed.
His mouth tenderly touched hers as he came to lie above her. She parted her legs and their bodies melted together as if meant to be.
He was shaking in her arms; she held him tightly against her and reached down for the sheets to pull over his body. His face was buried in her neck, murmured words on her skin that she couldn't even hear properly. It didn't matter. Everything had changed now, everything had shifted.
Raising her leg around his she slid one hand down between their bodies and took hold of him again; his face rose to hers, she couldn't quite make out the expression. A childish look of surprise and puzzlement at what she was doing to him, yet his eyes burning into her, such a mix of lust and love. He waited as she guided him inside her, hands resting on the pillow either side of her head in an attempt to hold himself still.
Clarisse closed her eyes momentarily at the contact, breathed deeply, Joseph gasped in pleasure. They remained locked like that for several moments, still and complete, and for a few seconds every need was satisfied, fulfilment given.
Then she lifted her head from the pillow, meeting his mouth; their kiss was slow and gentle. His fingers caressed her face, stroked her hair. She raised her hips beneath him, felt him plunge deep inside her and again he gasped.
One of her hands gripped his shoulder, the other wandered over his back, they had fallen into a steady age-old rhythm. She knew from experience that neither of them would last very long right now, but it didn't seem to matter, they had time for all-night worshipping love. This was about satisfying that immediate need that had possessed them both for so long now.
She raised her other leg around him, moaning out loud as she did so. Her hand now squeezed his backside, guiding him forward; his mouth was on her breasts again, suckling and worshipping each in turn. Closing her eyes she gave herself up to the sweet torture, the battle that was taking place within her body, wanting that climax suddenly and yet wanting it to last forever.
His hand moved between their bodies touching her where she needed it the most, if she'd ever doubted his skills in the bedroom she was now being proven wrong. She seemed to rise higher, her legs tighter around him, her odd moans now consistent and getting louder by the second. In the back of her mind was the ringing thought that she was making love to Joseph, with Joseph, and it was every fantasy fulfilled.
He had stopped kissing her; it was all he could do to concentrate on bringing her to orgasm first and not ruin it with his own early climax. She was close he knew, he could feel it, could sense it, could hear it. The thought that he was the one sharing in her pleasure flooded his heart with pure joy, he never wanted to be with anyone else again and he never wanted her to be with anybody else neither. Surely she was his just as his heart had been hers for so long now, never again should another man be allowed to touch her, to be privileged enough to witness such beauty.
"Joseph…" Her voice cracked and desperate cut through his own thoughts, her nails were digging into his back, her feet into his legs.
He groaned loudly, they would come together he realised that now.
The room seemed to freeze around him; the air settle on his back, all that existed was the feel of being inside her, the hot tightness of her body, the sweetness of their smell joined together.
He called her name, scratching the back of his throat in its intensity, her body seemed to convulse around him and as it did so he allowed his own orgasm to take over, filling her with a rush of heat.
He seemed to hang there for an eternity, not wanting to move inside her, not wanting it to end, the sound of him screaming her name seemed to echo around the room, ringing in his head, loud and abandoned. Finally his strength left him and he collapsed on top of her, his face in her neck breathing in the sweet scent of her skin.
Clarisse dared to open her eyes, the world hadn't altered, her room still looked the same, yet her heart was thudding painfully hard in her chest reminding her just what had happened. She felt Joseph's hot breath on her skin, his body slick against her own, his legs still being caressed by hers.
She took a deep shuddering breath; she couldn't dwell on the enormity of what they'd done, on what it meant, on why it shouldn't have happened and the hundreds of obstacles between them. Right at that moment it seemed the most perfectly natural thing in the world.
She stroked his back, felt him tremble against her at the simple contact. He lifted his head a little; enough for her to see his face; his eyes were full of unshed tears, his hand unsteady as he reached to touch her face.
"I love you." His voice, that strong deep voice she had come to know so well, was fragile and scared. "I never knew what it was before. I never…"
"Shhh…" She turned her head to kiss the fingers that stroked her face. "I know. You don't have to explain anything to me." She reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand, lovingly caressing his skin.
"I'm sorry, if I embarrassed you at the party, for the things I said to Rose, I didn't mean to put you in such an awkward situation."
"Joseph, stop, you were wonderful, as you always are. They loved you. All of them. It surpassed any expectations I had."
He leant forward, his forehead touching hers, eyes closed. He realised she was touching him again, stroking down his arms, around his wrists, causing him to shiver.
The heel of her foot was kneading his lower leg, her thighs felt so silky and warm around him, and he was ashamed to admit he was already hard again. Never before in his life had he wanted somebody so much, never before had he made love twice, straight after the other, he was actually unsure as to whether he could manage it.
His sex life with Isabella had been fine, certainly not unpleasant, they learnt together as they went, what the other liked, what they didn't, it took time and effort. Here with Clarisse, well, this was what he'd always imagined raw passion to be, there was no need to ask her what she wanted she showed him and she made it very clear when she was enjoying something just as she was right now.
Her hips were moving around him, undulating and steady; he was so deep inside her still, the effects of the previous orgasm still cradling his loins. Yet here she was swiftly bringing him to another, so soon. He could feel the pressure inside her, the soft moans escaping her lips, it made him feel dizzy, she was enjoying this so.
He was hardly even touching her, their foreheads still rested against the others, no kissing, no extended savage foreplay like before, he was barely moving within her, too deep to thoroughly achieve that friction. It was different; already it was different to the last time, already he wanted her again and again, to never stop making love to her in as many ways as she craved.
"Touch me." She breathed huskily.
It was all the instruction he needed, his hands like fire swiftly moved over her skin, she arched into him pushing her breast into his hand. She murmured something, his name he thought, he felt himself increase in energy and move above her, she protested at the sudden change, grabbing his shoulder and pulling his body back down close to hers, restricting his movements. He understood, she wanted it like this, deep and slow and steady.
His fingers still fondled her breasts, moving from one to the other, his other hand was between her legs. God it was killing him to remain still, to allow her to dictate the rhythm, he bit down on his bottom lip a little too hard and cried out.
Clarisse touched his face, her fingers slid into his mouth and he sucked on the tips of them. When he opened his eyes and looked down at her she was smiling, flushed and her eyes sparkling, but a smile on her face. He smiled too, lifted the hand from her breast to touch her cheek as he bent to kiss her. With mouths-closed they pressed their lips together forcefully, the pressure at once intense and, it seemed to him, incredibly erotic. He wasn't licking her mouth or suckling on her tongue, they were simply pressing their lips together in the most overwhelming and passionate way he had ever known.
He didn't want the contact to end but she pulled back needing to breathe, he did the same before resuming the kiss. She moved her head a little and he moaned against her mouth.
"God Clarisse…" he breathed between kisses. "I need you, I need…" He realised how desperate he sounded, how absolutely lost within her.
Sensing his control slipping Clarisse lifted her leg over his increasing the pressure.
"Slowly." She whispered before sucking on his bottom lip.
She was driving him insane!
He lifted his body a little, looked down at her so beautiful there before him, at their bodies joined together. She jerked beneath him and he slid forward groaning as he did so.
This time he forced himself to keep his eyes open, to watch as the sweet mixture of release and pleasure flitted across her face. At the way her nails dug into his lower arms. She called his name and he finally increased the pace.
She lifted her legs, closing in around him, he watched as she threw her head back as her orgasm took over her body throwing her into complete abandon. He felt his own tighten in his groin, a heady mixture of divine fulfilment and losing control. His essence filled her once again and he called her name, a mantra to his thudding senses.
This time she was the one lying there breathing so heavily it sounded as if her chest might burst. He watched absently, his arms aching as he fought to hold himself up, his hands digging into the mattress, he couldn't take his eyes from her face.
She wiggled beneath him, he slowly slid out of her body and she moved to sit up. Joseph turned and shifted to lie on his back.
"God you're amazing." He exhaled as he dropped to the bed next to her. "Amazing."
She rolled onto her side raising herself up onto her elbow to watch him. His eyes were closed, his mouth open as he struggled to breathe normally again.
Smiling she traced her index finger down the middle of his chest, over his flat stomach.
"Oh you don't think we're done yet do you." She said roughly as she bit his earlobe.
"Good god…" he turned his head sideways searching for her mouth, she resisted him giggling as she did so. He lifted his hands to try and hold her still. "Clarisse, don't tease me." He growled trying to kiss her.
"I wouldn't dream of it." She placed her hands on his chest and forced him to lay on his back, in a second she had straddled his legs and was leaning down over him, hands either side of his head, studying his face intently.
"Your lip is bleeding." She said.
"It is?" He reached to touch it as she leant across to the bedside table and grabbed a tissue.
"Here, let me." She dabbed at the small cut on the inside of his lip. "Dear me. Silly Joseph."
His hands rested on her hips as he watched her. "You caused me to bite my lip."
"Oh did I indeed. Would you rather I hadn't kissed you in the kitchen and instead allowed you to go to bed alone?"
"You very well know the answer to that." His thumbs were stroking her hips, drawing tiny circles on her skin.
She smiled knowingly. "There, all better."
"Thank you darling."
She raised an eyebrow, screwing the tissue up in her hand. "Darling?"
"Do you not like that?"
The look of worry that crossed his face caused her to laugh.
"Don't make fun of me." He pouted.
"I'm not, I wouldn't."
His hands traced up from her hips, along the edge of her stomach. "Yes you are, I'm no good at this, no practice."
"Ohhh." She leant down over him touching his face. "Ohh, my darling." Smiling sweetly she kissed his mouth. "Are you hungry?"
"Hungry?" he shook his head exasperated. "Hungry? I'm on the verge of spilling my soul out to you and you ask me if I'm hungry. And make fun of me."
"I'm not making fun of you; I've been very nice to you I think."
"If that's 'nice' I can't wait for the extraordinary."
Again she laughed, he relished seeing her so happy and free of worry.
"You know I love you Clarisse."
"Joseph, you don't have to say these things." She sat up again reaching across the bed for her dressing gown.
"I need to; I want to, I want you to know. This isn't some moment of… one night stand."
"Joseph, I know, for me neither." She pulled the dressing gown over her arms before leaning over and kissing his head tenderly. "Things are always so serious between us, everything unreal. We both know you have another week here, we both know we have much to discuss before you leave. But let's not do it tonight, let's just be together… just for tonight."
He nodded, unable to form a worthy response.
"Good, now, I asked are you hungry? Because frankly I am bloody starving."
Now he laughed. "Oh I was right, you are amazing. You continue to surprise me."
"I think ice-cream is in order, something naughty. Are you joining me?"
"Dare I not be?"
"Well I could sit here and eat it alone but that wouldn't be much fun."
She manoeuvred herself from him and wearily stood up, tying the belt on her dressing gown.
"Oh dear, I must be getting old, my body aches. Stay there and I shall be right back."
"Alright, I await your return."
He heard the sound of running water coming from the outer bathroom and then Clarisse humming as she went downstairs. Deciding he ought to freshen up himself he dragged his body up out of bed and headed for the en suite.
When he returned he stood by the window, shielded slightly by the curtains, the heavy rain from earlier in the evening had slowed into a slight patter. He could see out over the countryside, almost to the sea, could smell the slightly salty air coming through the open window.
Turning he cast a glance at the rumpled bed, the sheets tossed aside, pillows cascading together, softened in the middle where their heads had lay. On the floor lay her dress, the pool of black material just as she'd stepped out of it. He bent to pick it up and oddly found himself pressing his face into it, drowning in her perfume.
The part of his rational mind could hardly comprehend he was here in her bedroom, that he'd made love to her twice, that he'd touched her body so intimately, felt that joy so intensely. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, revelations of love and foreverness.
"Here we go." She breezed into the room, instantly lighting it up.
He shook his head suppressing his laughter. "Ice-cream Clarisse, it's almost 3 in the morning."
"A perfect time then." She smiled placing the tray down and climbing onto the bed. "Are you going to join me?" She patted the bed.
Chuckling he sat next to her, his long legs spread out along the bed. She moved closer to him, lifting a spoon to his mouth.
"Hmm, and fed as well." He opened his mouth and accepted the frozen sweetness.
"You need fattening up a little." She teased patting his stomach with her free hand. "I see you dressed."
He glanced down at his briefs. "Well, so did you."
"I was hardly going to parade my naked body in the kitchen where anybody might wander past and see me."
"At 3 in the morning?"
"You never know." She smiled and took a spoon of the ice cream for herself.
"Come sit closer to me." He said gently as she offered him another spoon of the dessert.
"Where?"
He lifted the tray up and placed it on the floor carefully avoiding spilling any of the glasses of water. She held onto the tub of ice cream and watched as he plumped the pillows up behind him.
"Now come sit here."
Smiling coyly she moved to sit between his legs, leaning back against his chest and feeding him over her shoulder. Silently they ate, his hands stroking up and down her arms, occasionally kissing the side of her neck.
"You were correct." He whispered as he kissed her head. "Ice cream is a good idea."
"I always have good ideas."
"Yes, I believe you do." He kissed her again. "Why tonight?" He whispered, almost afraid of altering the mood. "Why do this tonight?"
She licked the spoon. "There isn't one specific reason; surely you must know that, it just felt right."
She pulled herself forward from his arms and turned slightly. "I think, if I'm entirely honest with myself, that I always knew we would sleep together, it was just a matter of when. And now we have, another hurdle jumped."
"Hurdle?" he looked rather hurt.
"Oh my dear." She touched his face. "I didn't mean it to sound so brutal, I mean, everything with us seems to be barriers, rules, getting anywhere together takes so bloody long. If we were a normal couple who were attracted to each other as much as we obviously are don't you think we would have done this months ago."
She smiled warmly. "You said you liked me being to the point, this is to the point."
He laughed. "I guess so."
She placed the pot of ice cream back onto the tray and crawled on top of him. "Besides, why are you analysing what's happened?" She kissed his mouth. "Why aren't you…" she kissed him again. "Simply enjoying it?"
Clarisse's dressing gown lay discarded on the bedroom floor, on top of it Joseph's black briefs. The empty ice cream tub on top of them. The clock in the hall downstairs struck 4:30 and the sleeping figure in the bed snuggled closer to her companion.
Joseph's arms wrapped tighter around Clarisse, her head against his upper chest, her own arms holding onto him. She had fallen to sleep almost immediately, cuddling up to him and closing her eyes as they spoke in hushed tones. No sooner had he settled into their embrace than he'd glanced at her face and known she slept.
As he held her in his arms he couldn't help but wonder what might have happened to him had they never met. If she'd never come to work at the palace, if he'd never known her face, her name, her voice, never felt her kiss. What would his days consist of, work and work and work? Growing more and more distant from his family? His nights would be sleepless and uncomfortable, she had brought him such tenderness, showed him so much laughter and life. Who the hell would he ever love if she weren't in his life?
He kissed her temple and closed his eyes. It was almost morning; the sun would be rising, the day beginning and people marching about their tasks. He would be quite content to lay here for the rest of his days, holding her close to him, his body spooned against hers.
Soon he slept also.
