Wew. Finally. I feel like this update has taken forever, and I do admit that it has, but I am rather pleased to say that it took so long because it's so fricking long. It's the longest chapter I've ever written for any story—48 pages long. Ha. Take that.
Having said that, please heed my warning that it is ill advised that you read this anywhere but the comforts of your home or bedroom where you could read until you get dizzy. Kidding. You do you. But there ARE three smutty scenes somewhere in there that as my friends have told me, just goes to show how much I need to get laid. (I don't. don't take their word for it.)
Anyhow, surely, you're not here to be privy to my life, you all want Cobert, and Cobert is what you get. Enjoy sailors!
Rated M for malaswa and #moarsex. (haha)
Chapter Eleven
Cora wouldn't go as far as saying that she's dreading to meet Violet Crawley. Perhaps, dread was such a strong word for what she was feeling, but she wasn't exactly jumping for joy over the fact. She wasn't overly excited; and actually, overly anxious on the other hand seemed like the better word. It wasn't like she thought Violet Crawley was some sort of a witch, it wasn't the case at all (if she had been able to raise a man like Robert, then she must not be that bad), but after all the stories she's heard from the Crawley siblings, Cora feared that the matriarch of the Crawley family had left a very lasting impression on her, and not exactly in the very best of ways.
The day after the office party, Cora and Robert had set out to Yorkshire, to Downton Abbey or where Robert's parents lived. Cora's nerves were shot and were tingling by the time they were on the car and driving out the highway. Cora admitted to herself that it was probably not the best of disposition to be meeting her boyfriend's parents for the first time.
"You're going to hurt yourself over that much worrying Cora," Robert warned her, chuckling when he glanced at her quickly, whilst driving. He had given his driver the holiday off since it was Christmas, so they were kind of on their own, which Cora preferred, really. She loved to have days when it was just them. "Don't worry, my parents don't eat girlfriends for lunch."
It was very much like the pot calling the kettle black.
She rolled her and fake-chuckled at him. "You're so funny," she said, delivering a soft blow to his shoulder. She bit her lip and turned to him, tilting her head slightly. "You're meeting my father in a few days, let's see how happy you are with that," she pointed out, resisting the urge to laugh when she saw him gulp visibly.
"Your father hunts for sport," he argued, though he remarkably had been able to train his eyes on the road rather than give her a look. "My mother doesn't even own a gun."
Cora couldn't help but roll her eyes again. "For the hundredth time, Robert, my father won't shoot you," she said, telling him, yet again, that her father did not shoot her boyfriends for the fun of it (well maybe, but Robert didn't need to know that).
"You don't know that," he replied, adamantly sticking to his belief that his father made target practice out of her old suitors and boyfriends, which would not be all too far-fetched, but again—he didn't need to know that.
She only scoffed in reply, and turned, trying to get some more rest before she had to face the music, or more precisely one Violet Crawley.
…
It was already late when the car slowed to a stop in front of the Abbey, and Robert reached over to his left and gently shook his girlfriend awake. She stirred, but she didn't budge, choosing instead to groan and turn a little further away from his touch.
Robert chuckled.
"Come on darling, wake up," he said, placing his hand on her shoulder and gently shaking her awake. She didn't budge, and he leaned forward, placing a kiss on her cheek. "Come on, sleeping beauty, we're here."
That seemed to do it because slowly, she turned, eyes fluttering, and a yawn escaping her lips. She lifted her hands and stretched, prompting Robert to place another kiss against her cheek. Her eyes opened and she lolled her head to his direction, smiling.
"Hi," she said, looking sleepy and adorable.
Robert leaned down and nuzzled his nose with hers, smiling happily as he placed a kiss on her lips. "Hi," he greeted back, pulling back to watch her close her eyes and sigh. "We're here."
The way her eyes opened widely, almost comically, made him chuckle, and she shot him a look, glaring. He could see the tension creeping back at her—poor girl was really afraid of Mama, not that she should be, mama usually is all bark and no bite (her words are biting, but they are merely words, never bodily harm which was good, he supposed).
Cora pulled the visor down, revealing a mirror and he watched as she tried to 'fix' herself up (she didn't need it, she was always gorgeous). He shook his head and then opened his car door, walking over to the other side and opening hers. Just then their driver walked out from the side of the house and greeted them with a smile.
"Pratt," Robert greeted the older man jovially, nodding at him.
The man smiled just as happily and bowed, to which Robert vigorously shook his head. There was really no need for that. It wasn't the medieval times, next thing he'd know the maids inside would curtsey at him, which was really just too much.
"Sire," Pratt greeted. "So good to see you back. Happy Christmas!"
"Happy Christmas to you too," he said just as Cora climbed out of the car. Pratt gave her a smile, one the she returned tentatively. Robert closed the door when Cora stepped to the side. "This is Cora Levinson, Cora this is William Pratt, he's our family driver for years." He watched as Cora greeted him. Robert frowned, looking up at the house. "Where are Mama and Papa?"
"They have just gone to a party, sir," Pratt said with a smile. "They'll be coming home soon, I think. I'm about to go fetch them." He then made a move to Robert's car. "But I could bring your luggage in before I leave, sir."
Oh. Well, that Robert hadn't thought about. He didn't think Mama or Papa would have gone to any party knowing he was coming, but then he hadn't called before hand, assuming that there would have been someone in the house anyway. For all they knew, he'd be coming in tomorrow with Rosamund.
Oh well.
"There is no need," Robert said, waving him off. "You best be going. You know how mama gets when someone is late. I'll have someone else in the house to help me."
Just as he said that the house butler, Spratt, came out with a maid.
"Hello, Spratt," Robert greeted, walking over to the boot of the car and taking out the luggage. The maid scurried off to take them inside. "Happy Christmas!"
"Happy Christmas sire," Spratt said. "We'll have dinner ready in the dining area for you sir?"
"Sure, thank you," Robert just said, letting Spratt take the last of their things, before taking Cora's hand and leading her inside. She looked at him with apprehension. "What is it?"
"You're sure you're not some sort of nobility?" she asked, frowning at him.
"You mean to tell me you don't have maids back home?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her because he's sure that they did, coming from a rich family like theirs. Cora bit her lip and shook her head. "Well, I suppose we just like to live a life of luxury, and have the means to it." He sighed. "I always believed we all have different parts to play, and we should let everyone play theirs."
Cora didn't say anything, only nodded as they made it through the gravel walk and into the house. He saw Cora's eyes widen.
"It's beautiful," she commented, and he smiled, leading her further in. She had been pretty awestruck by the outside, but the way her eyes just seemed to take in the interior of the house, like it overwhelmed her, made her even more adorable to him.
A maid greeted them by the stairs. "Mrs. Crawley already assigned rooms for you, sir," she said, looking at him with a smile, and then at Cora. Oh and of course mama would. "If you'd follow me…"
"It's okay," he told the maid. "I think we'll manage." He took Cora's hand and waved the maid off. He climbed the stairs up with Cora, feeling very eager to show her the house.
"I take it we're not sharing rooms then," Cora stated with a slight laugh, jabbing him gently on his ribs, making him chuckle.
"I'm afraid mama is old-fashioned that way," he said, thinking of how Mama had thrown a fit upon finding out that he'd been living with Adeline. Of course, he'd been sure it's been largely contributed to the fact that she never did like Adeline, but he also knew that mama didn't approve of them living together. "We'll just have to survive a few nights without each other."
Cora cocked her eyebrow and smirked. "Can you, though?" she teased, knowing how much he preferred to sleep next to her, and though they weren't afforded that every single night, they had been sleeping together more often than not lately.
"Oh how would I ever survive?" he asked dramatically, making her laugh, but it was only half-jokingly that he'd said it. He really did wonder how on earth he would survive.
"I'm sure you'll manage," Cora said, laughingly, before urging him to show her the room so she could freshen up before dinner.
Robert couldn't help but silently wonder how he would, though.
…
They have finished dinner and were moving to the lounge when Robert's parents arrived. The Violet Crawley entered the room, announcing her arrival with a flourish and staring at Cora like she wanted nothing more than to grill her and gobble her up.
Cora gulped.
It seemed odd that the first time she was meeting her boyfriend's parents, it was because she was staying with them for Christmas. She knew that Robert might have somehow made it known to them that he was seeing someone, otherwise she wouldn't be here, but they had never met prior to this, and should Violet Crawley decide that she didn't like Cora…well, it's going to be a long drive back to the city.
Cora hoped that wouldn't be the case.
"Hello, Mama," Robert said as he stood up and walked over to where his parents stood, right at the entryway to the lounge. He placed a kiss upon his mother's cheek, and then shook his father's hand.
Violet Crawley's beady eyes remained on Cora, however, and Cora felt her knees tremble when she stood up and walked over to Robert's side. (It hadn't helped Cora entirely that she had been cozying up with Robert on the couch as they reveled in the silence and watched the fire).
She felt Robert's hand slip to the small of her back and Violet's eyes narrowed even more. "Mama, Papa, this is my girlfriend, Cora," he said, and Cora had to fight the urge to blush because she was not ten, and she was not about to embarrass herself like that in front of them.
"Good evening, Mr. Crawley, Mrs. Crawley," Cora greeted when she reached Robert's side, offering her hand to Mr. Crawley first, which he shook firmly, and then to Violet who just looked down on it and gave her a single nod. She dropped her hand to the side. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Miss?" Robert's father asked, and she knew what it meant…he needed to know if she came from a respectable family without saying the words openly.
"Levinson," she supplied with a soft smile, "Cora Levinson."
Robert's father smiled at her, undoubtedly pleased, eyes twinkling, and though Cora would like to believe that he would approve of her, she also hoped it wasn't only because she was a Levinson.
"Have you had dinner yet?" he asked pleasantly, both to her and Robert, as Violet seemed to just stand there and watch them.
Cora had this irrational need to hold on to Robert for support, but she curbed it and smiled, instead, nodding her head and politely saying, yes, they had, it was delicious, and thank you.
It came to be that hours later, the four of them had found themselves in the study, all nursing drinks (scotch for the men, champagne for Violet and red wine for Cora), and chatting. Mostly, it had been Patrick (he'd told her to call him that now—and she'd been tempted to ask the same of Violet but she knew she'd be told to stick with Mrs. Crawley and Miss Levinson for now, so she didn't even dare) who had done the asking, and Cora had answered the best way she could, while mother and son sat on listening to the conversation. Robert would add in, sometimes, while Violet only sat there probably internally judging her.
Through the course of their conversation, she had talked about her stay in the country (she'd been here for almost three years now, her first year had been her just soul searching until she decided last year to really do what she came there for which was to study), how she was about to finish her second degree the following year, and that she might take a Masters and a Doctorate. She snuck a glance at Robert then, and she could see how pleased he was at the prospect that she might stay longer—not that she could even leave anymore if he'd give her a reason to stay, or even just ask. She did mention her previous degree, her father's desire for her to have just stayed back home and help with the company, and how she didn't really think that it was her calling. She didn't mention, however, that she played with a band in a pub—not because she was ashamed of it, but because she didn't think it would go over smoothly with the matriarch of the family, and it didn't really help her case to be antagonizing Violet Crawley right away.
All the while, she felt Robert's hand steady against her back and it comforted her, at least she had him. Regardless of his parents' possible first impression of her, she had him.
It was late before they had adjourned and bid each other goodnight, the older couple retiring upstairs before Cora and Robert. The latter had stayed back, and had just basked in the company of each other, watching the fire and cuddling. Robert was silent as he took a sip of his drink, and Cora was lost in her thoughts.
"I don't think your mother liked me," she said, sighing softly as she turned her head from where it was resting on his shoulder and looked at him with sad eyes. She had wanted so much to try and please his mother, wanting nothing more than to have Robert know that his mother and girlfriend got along somehow.
"I think she's still considering," Robert told her, slowly and cautiously as if testing his words and weighing them. She didn't know what to make of that. "If she didn't like you, she would certainly have made it known."
That, she didn't really understand. She raised an eyebrow at him in question, wondering what he meant by that. Robert sighed.
"My mother is a woman of many words," he explained, turning so they were facing each other properly, but he still had his arms around her, and though she would not say it aloud, it gave her comfort. "She always has something to say, and if she didn't like you, she would tell you straight to your face, or drop enough hints for you to realize that she doesn't really like you. But so far she's been quiet and had just been listening intently, so I take that as a good sign."
Cora sighed, trying to let that sink in, and tried to be content with that. At least, Violet wasn't sending her out of the house, and was still gauging her whole person. She felt Robert pull her back to his chest, his warm embrace enveloping her and making the tension leave from her body. When he started to line kisses down her neck, she'd forgotten Violet Crawley.
She felt his tongue poke out and touch her skin, making heat pool low in her belly, and she really shouldn't feel that right now, not here—in his childhood home where his parents could easily walk in on them, but god, it feels good, feels so good to be in his arms.
"Robert," she gasped out when she felt his hand roaming about her body. She needed him to stop, but she didn't want him to.
"Cora," he whispered huskily against her skin, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. He continued to kiss down her throat, her nape and back again, sucking her skin in his hot mouth.
"We can't," she complained. It really was not fair! He couldn't just turn her on, knowing they couldn't have sex right then. They were in his childhood home for cripes sake.
"Why not?" he asked, as though it wasn't obvious.
She rolled her eyes and pulled away, not wanting her mind to be muddled with sex, as she tried to reason with him. "First of all, we're in the library, your parents could walk in any moment," she said, huffing.
"So, let's go upstairs," he said, taking her hand in his and making a move to get up.
She rolled her eyes again and pulled him down. "Second of all, I'm not going to have sex with you here in your parents' house. I am not going to risk it, in the off chance that your mother might walk in on us. She placed us in different rooms for a reason!"
Robert groaned. "Yes, it seems so. To torture me, I'm sure," he said, making Cora chuckle and shake her head.
She stood from the couch and stretched a bit, feeling the weariness of the long day catching up on her. She smiled at him and held out her hand. "Let's go to bed," she said. Robert waggled his eyebrows in response and she laughed. "Not like that silly. Come on, walk me to the bedroom and then kiss me goodnight."
He took her hand and when she thought he was going to have her help him stand up, he only pulled her down, making her land on his lap. She shook her head and chuckled, looping her arms around his neck. She stared deep in his eyes, getting lost in the blue orbs, and she felt her heart leap when he'd smiled at her.
She loved him. She was in love with him. And there was nothing more in this world that she wanted than to tell him, and it felt like she could, only it didn't feel like the right time. She didn't know whether there ever was a right time to have someone know that you love them, but maybe, now wasn't it.
"You're beautiful," he said, his hand coming up to cup her cheek as the light of the flames flickered against the features.
He's the one to talk when he looked like a valiant knight, a handsome prince, a man made from her very own dreams.
"Robert," she whispered, the words now at the tip of her tongue, screw it, she'd tell him, now, right then and right there, but she didn't get the chance to do so because he took her lips in his and kissed her heatedly, passionately, stealing her breath away from her the same way he had stolen her heart.
She belonged to this man—body, heart, mind and soul. She was his, all his, and she loved him fiercely with everything she had.
She could only hope that he felt the same.
…
Christmas Eve came with the snow falling onto the ground, blanketing the estate in white. Robert had gotten up from bed and made his way to the windows, peeking through the outside and smiling when he'd realized how white their Christmas was. He'd thought about how lovely the snowflakes would look against Cora's dark hair, and how lovely she would be with pink cheeks and reddened lips from the cold.
She'd look quite beautiful.
Smiling at that thought, he began to get ready for the day. Maybe he could cajole her to go outside with him for a bit, even if it was freezing. He would just have to wrap her in his arms—the thought in itself was enticing.
When he had knocked on her door and she'd answered, she was already dressed. She wore a simple red and white jumper, black skinny jeans and black leather knee high boots. She looked at him with a bright smile and had greeted him with a kiss.
"Good morning, darling," he said when they'd pulled away. He smiled at her and caressed her cheek softly.
"Morning, baby," she said, leaning in for a hug which he reciprocated.
He really did adore it when she called him baby. He never was the one for pet names, a sore point for all of his past girlfriends—even Adeline who had told her that he didn't have a romantic bone in his body—but he adored it with Cora, it was sweet, without trying too hard. He wasn't iffy about calling her endearments because she really was endearing, a true sweetheart and a darling. And he didn't mind her calling him baby because, well, she really did treat him like he was her baby.
He liked it.
He took her hand in his and led her down to the dining room for breakfast. When they got there, Violet and Patrick were already there too, only just taking their seats. Surprisingly, Rosamund and Duke were already sitting around the table too.
"Cora, darling!" Rosamund greeted when she spotted Cora. She even stood up and gave Cora a kiss and hug. She then turned to Robert, "Hello brother."
Robert raised an eyebrow. "Cora gets an enthusiastic greeting, and you turn to me and say hello brother?" he asked, teasingly. "Try and contain your excitement, Ros."
Rosamund rolled her eyes and swatted his arm lightly. Beside him Cora chuckled, and his heart swelled.
"Settle down, children," came Mama's voice, and he felt like he was five, and apparently, mama did too—"It feels like you're still toddlers and had forgotten that you're both grownups now."
"Good morning, mama," he then greeted her joyously, ambling towards her, Cora in tow, and giving her an over-zealous hug and kiss on the cheek, which makes Cora and Rosamund giggle (thought Cora is more subtle). "I hope you're having a lovely morning." He turned to his father, and smiled, "Morning papa."
"Morning," his father grunted, before turning to Cora. "Morning Miss Levinson, have a seat please, and pardon my son, he forgets himself sometimes."
Cora chuckles, "Good morning Mr. Crawley, I mean Patrick," she said, before turning to Violet. "Good morning Mrs. Crawley." Violet only gave her a single nod.
Soon, they all were seated around the table and were immersed in discussions, Robert and Patrick talked business, while Violet and Rosamund talked about Rosamund's impending nuptials. Cora conversed with Duke. And all in all, it had been a rather lovely breakfast.
After they'd eaten, Rosamund proposed that they take a walk down the village, just to tour Cora around. It had stopped snowing by then, and though it was still cold, some sunlight seemed to peak out, and it was still a lovely day. Cora and Robert agreed, though Cora was less forward due to Violet's initial protests that it was cold and she wouldn't have any of the people in her house sick on Christmas. Patrick and Robert placated her, and she'd relented, but not without a grumble.
The four of them reconvened in the foyer after they had properly bundled up. Robert stood beside Cora, holding her against him as they talked to Duke while waiting for Rosamund to come downstairs and join them. When she finally did, the four of them piled out of the door and braved the cold. But, of course, not without a ribbing from Robert first.
"It's a bit cold," Robert said teasingly, looking at his girlfriend with a grin, "Are you sure you can handle it, darling?"
Cora rolled her eyes at him and smacked his shoulder lightly, "Shut up, Robert."
Rosamund and Duke only laughed.
…
Cora walked to her designated room once they got back with her heart full. She had learned so much about Robert that day, about where he grew up, the places he frequented when he had been a young boy, or when he'd been a lad, places he and Rosamund used to go hiding to when their piano teacher used to come around for lessons, or if someone had come calling in the house and they hadn't wanted to entertain any of their mother and father's stiff, stoic friends. Hearing stories of his childhood, of his life before was an absolute delight to her, and it made her happy.
She thought of the way his eyes twinkled when he and Rosamund relived the memories of their mischief, of the way he reddened when Rosamund told embarrassing stories of him when he'd been an awkward pubescent, and thought of how fiercely those images gripped her mind.
He was one of a kind, he was so special, so special to her, and she was happy to know him and share his present with him. Even now, as she began getting ready for the little Christmas party that his mother hosted every year in their house for the Crawley family, she couldn't help but be grateful.
She smiled to herself, applying the last coat of her mascara, just as the sound of someone knocking on her door and then it creaking open a little while later jostled her from her thoughts. She put the mascara wand down and looked at the reflection in the mirror as her boyfriend walked into her bedroom with a smile. He looked so handsome in his navy suit, perfectly matching her navy dress that she'd bought specifically for this occasion. They hadn't talked about it, but it seemed that their minds were in sync.
She smiled at him.
"Hello, darling," he greeted with a beaming smile and a kiss upon her cheek. "You look beautiful."
He said it in a way that he sounded winded, like he truly marveled at the sight of her, and it made a blush to rise up on her cheek, and she ducked her head down to hide her embarrassment. For as long as she lived, she would probably not stop question what she had done right to have this man to call hers.
"Thank you," she said with a soft smile, biting down on her lip t0 get over her embarrassment. "You don't look half bad yourself."
He chuckled and then stole another kiss, this time on her lip, before wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his nose on her neck. "I miss you," he breathed out, and she knew it wasn't about the intimate activities that they did once the lights were out and the covers were drawn that he missed, but rather he missed having her in his arms as they slept, holding her and breathing the same breath, together. She missed that just as much, and she told him so. "I don't want to sleep without you again tonight."
It struck her then that though they didn't live with each other, there had been very few nights that they'd spent apart, and their lived had become so interwoven now it was hard to separate them.
She hummed in agreement. "I wish I could sleep in your arms and welcome the Christmas with you," she murmured, her arms wrapping around his that held her. She frowned and looked at him looking back at her through the mirror. "Is your mother really that much of a traditionalist?"
He chuckled sadly and nodded. "I'm afraid she is," he said, tilting his head so he could place a kiss at the spot where her neck and shoulder met before pulling away. Cora felt the loss of his arms immediately. "Let's go down. The party's probably starting."
She nodded, letting him help her out of the chair and then landing right into his arms. He held her for a fraction of a minute, and it's not even long enough but it was everything. "Yes," he breathes out against his ear, as if answering a question she wasn't aware he'd even asked. "Breathtakingly beautiful."
His words make her heart flutter, and she smiled, holding on to him harder, happy to be spending this merry season with him.
…
The piano sounded loud and clear across the great expansive room as one of Robert's cousin played a Christmas carol and sang along with the music. Some of Robert's relatives had gathered around the instrument, singing just as loudly and just as merrily. Robert's mother sat on the couch with one of his aunts and Rosamund, discussing Rosamund's wedding plans, which seemed to be the topic of conversation all the time now that it's drawing near.
It also led to some very awkward questions directed to him about that very subject.
"So when are you getting tying the knot?" Anthony Strallan, a childhood friend and the closest thing they have to a neighbor, asked him as they stood by the windows sipping their drinks.
Robert had been watching Cora then, as she talked to some of his cousins who had been fascinated with her and had been surprised by her presence at all, knowing Violet Crawley and how peckish she was with strangers crashing and joining along the festivities. There had not been one girlfriend of his that Violet had been willing to tolerate let alone invite along family gatherings before Cora. And it surprised his relatives almost as much as it surprised him.
Robert whipped his head back at his friend, startled, and then gulped. "We've only been together a while," he explained, though his heart told him that it didn't really matter. "We're not in any rush to get there. We're quite enjoying ourselves just now." Then he scratched the back of his neck. "I'm not sure we're even at that level yet."
That was the truth, they hadn't even said 'I love you' to each other yet, and if he was honest he didn't see them doing so for a while yet. He wasn't overly conventional, but he wasn't above traditions as well.
"Well, you do look at her like she hangs the moon," his friend chuckled with a nonchalant shrug, but the words echoed right into Robert's heart long after Anthony Strallan had gone home.
He hadn't realized how transparent he'd become. He hadn't realized how easily people could read his feelings for Cora now.
He hadn't even fully realized the extent of his feelings for her, he thought as fear reared its ugly head in his mind. Doubt crept in: he wasn't even good enough for her, what if she broke his heart too…and all the other nonsense that seemed to plague his mind.
But when she looked up at him and smiled that sweet smile that could melt a glacier (it always melted his heart), suddenly nothing else ever mattered…nothing else but her.
…
When the party had ended with a loud Happy Christmas coming from everyone, strewn about wrapping paper seemingly everywhere (they all get to open one gift), and tired but happy smiles given from one person to another, the Crawley family, Cora and Duke had all retired to bed straight away.
Cora was exhausted, the festivities were sure merry, but she had a full heart, and she was happy. She might have missed spending Christmas with her parents that year, but she'd spent it with Robert and his family and it had been a great one.
She smiled at her reflection on the mirror as she stood in the en suite bathroom, removing her makeup. She was decked out in her sleepwear (Robert's t-shirt that she'd borrowed from him when she found out they were to sleep in separate bedrooms), and her face look tired, looking back at her. But there was a big cheesy, extremely happy, grin on her face.
She heard the door swing open and then close softly, and smirked when she found her boyfriend traipsing into her bedroom. He was trying to be inconspicuous, unaware that she could see him through the mirror.
She smirked at him, raising an eyebrow, when he walked into the bathroom wearing a robe over his flannel pajama bottoms and white t-shirt. He only smiled back tiredly and wrapped his arms around her from behind.
"Did you have a good night?" he asked as he kissed her cheek and then buried his nose on her hair.
She beamed. "Oh, it was such a wonderful night," she gushed, eyes twinkling and smile never faltering. "You have such delightful family."
He chuckled. "Glad you think so," he said. "You're about to meet the other half as well on Rosamund's wedding, consider yourself warned."
She shook her head and chuckled before she tilted her head and raised an eyebrow teasingly. "And what, may I ask, do you think you're doing here?" she asked, bumping her behind against the front playfully and teasingly, but she gasped in shock as his immediate response reached her and it was everything but playfully teasing.
He nipped at the skin of her neck. "I miss you," he repeated his words from earlier, and heat rose in her cheeks because this time, it's not just the cuddling he missed, of that she's certain.
Still, she decided to tease him. "And here I thought you said your mother was positively Machiavellian," she told him, reminding him of when he said that his mother was a traditionalist by heart, hence the separate bedrooms.
He hummed against her skin as he worked his hands way up and into the t-shirt she wore, splaying them against the skin of her waist and caressing every square inch. He looked at her through the mirror a he cupped her breasts in both hands and sucked on her pulse point roughly and quickly. He bit onto the flesh before letting it go long enough to answer. "That she is," he confirmed, only making her raise an eyebrow in question this time. "But as you know by now, I'm also very, very stubborn and mischievous." She laughed, but it tapered into a breathy moan when he pinched one puckered nipple, teasing it to hardness. "I don't care much for the rules."
She responded with a winded, "I see that," before she pushed him away and shook her head, trying to regain her senses. "Robert, I'm not about to have sex with you in your childhood home!" she told him, crossing her arms against her chest.
But he only smiled and pried her arms apart, tracing with his index finger the peaks of her breast that poked against the fabric of her shirt.
"Aren't you?" he asked, continuing with his seductive teasing.
She pouted. This was not fair. She was weak where he was concerned, but she tried to swat his hand away, valiantly attempting to resist him, however knowing it was futile. "Robert, suppose we get caught?" she asked, because there was really no way or chance she was going to say no, his childhood home be damned.
"That's just part of the fun," he said, leaning down to bite down her ear lobe and nip against her ear, blowing his hot breath against the shell and making her shiver. "I guess you'll just have to be quiet."
He was the one to talk!
She moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. She thrust her tongue into his mouth without preamble, and he braced his hands around her ribcage, spanning it and squeezing gently, before dropping down to her hips. Being quiet was going to be a challenge, but it was goddamn Christmas, and she was going to get what she wanted: which was Robert and his arms around her, him loving her as they ushered in the Christmas together and properly.
She felt him hike her up onto the marble top of the sink and she spread her legs far enough so he could settle in between, never once letting their kiss break. His hands travelled down to hem of her shirt and she felt him try to pull it up and over her head. She broke their kiss long enough to get it off and throw it over his shoulder before she pounced on him again, kissing him to the inch of his life and letting his warm roam against her quickly heating body.
He cupped her breasts and toyed with her nipples, rolling them with the pads of his fingers, pinching and pulling, and flicking his thumbs against it. She let out a soft, pleased moan in his mouth before he pulled away from her and ducked to suck on the pink tips of her breasts. He licks and nips, sucks and bites down, making wetness to pool low in her stomach and drench her pathetic excuse of a panty, and she wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer so she could grind down on him.
She made a sound of displeasure when she found his clothes on the way, however, and she pulled away from him long enough so she could untie the robe and pull his shirt over his head. She pushed his pants down with her toes, letting it fall into his ankles, and smirked when she found him as bare as the day he was born.
She shook her head at him, but he only smiled, and then went back to attending to her breasts, hands now trailing down her body, down, further down, until his fingers found her warm, wet treasures. He pushed her panties aside and ran his index finger down the length of her sex, making her gasp out and throw her head back in pleasure. It serves to bring out her chest more, and he braces a hand on the small of her back, making her stay in a position where he can have easy access over her breasts as his fingers flicked and teased her throbbing core.
She was wet, warm and wanting, and when he flicked his finger against his clit, she forgot her own name, the feeling too strong and too pleasurable for her to describe. Her moan urged him on and then suddenly he's running his finger down her slit, before he pushed one and then two, in, thrusting them in and out, curling them just so that it hit that spot, just that right, sweet spot that made her want to scream. But she couldn't be loud, though, she reminded herself, so instead she bit down on her lip and clawed against his back, arching hers, and asking him a husky voice that she hadn't realized she possessed to give her more, more, she needed more, harder Robert, yes, yes, mmhmm.
She was close, she could feel it, just as he continued on his ministrations. He switched to her other breast now, sucking, nipping, licking, nibbling. He'd kiss up into her neck and down again, down the valley of her breasts, and then back to the puckered little buds, making them oversensitive and hard to the point of pain, but god, it's good pain, the pain that led to pure pleasure that she forgot to tell the difference. All she knew was that she was being fucked to the inch of her life, by the man she loved, right before Christmas was ushered in, and it felt so damn good.
He rubbed his thumb against her clit, and when he pressed against it, bit down on her nipple and thrust his fingers into her simultaneously, she came so hard in his arms, she almost yelled his name, managing only to stop herself in time and bit down on her lip instead and shoved her fingers through his hair and pulled, pulled, gasping and choking out his name in a labored breath.
It was just that intense.
And he was just that good.
She felt him pressing kisses against her sweaty skin as she came down from her orgasm. She also felt his manhood pressing against her thigh, and she grinned, breathing in and out before reaching down to grasp him in her hands. She pumped him, once, twice, and then once more, flicking her thumb against the soft head, and then kissing him.
"Robert," she moaned in his lips before she slid down the sink and sunk on her knees. Robert looked at her in surprise, but with lust clouding his eyes. When she'd licked the fat head, he moaned, and when she'd enveloped his length with the warmth of her mouth, he'd actually closed his eyes and gasped out her name in a breathy, winded whisper.
She smirked, feeling smug for a moment, and then concentrated on him, sucking and licking against his shaft, wanting to bring him close to an orgasm, but just enough, just at the edge and then she'd have him fuck her right there, against the sink, and god, good heavens, she knew it'd be so good.
He was so hard, so hard and so long, so proud, so erect. He felt so good and so right inside her mouth, inside her, with her.
She bobbed her head and then sucked, running her tongue down his length before taking him in her mouth again and sucked him so hard and so deep, the head of his shaft hit the back of her throat and he groaned, tensing, back straightening. He took hold of her upper arm.
"I want to cum buried balls deep inside you," he growled, and it aroused her even more to hear him talk dirty to her with that accent and that deep, gravelly voice.
God, she wanted him so much.
He pulled her up and turned her so she was facing the mirror, bending her over so that her upper half leaned against the marble sink and the lower half was jutting out just enough for him to be able to drive into her with ease.
They had plenty of sex before, had varied from outright fucking to slow and sweet lovemaking, but somehow this felt different. This wasn't about who was dominant, or about showing each other what they felt, this was just about the need to belong, to reassure themselves that they belonged to each other, that they were, in every sense of the word, together.
It wasn't possession.
It was belongingness.
It was being together.
The first time they had made love had been tentative, it was a testing of their bodies, of knowing what they liked, and how to please each other. This time, they knew exactly what pleased the other and they weren't very timid about doing it.
He gripped her by the waist then, and she watched him, watched as he looked down to where she was hot and throbbing, watched him caress her flesh before his hold on her tightened and he moved his hips towards her. He let his one hand run down her back, palming her ass cheeks and then lifting it, opening her wide enough to let him slide in.
Neither of them could stop the moan that escaped their lips when he slid home, the feeling of being one was just too good, too wonderful. He bent over so that his chin touched her shoulder, burying him into her even further, and god this angle was just too good. She could feel him fill her fully and when he moved, he'd hit that spot just right. He nipped a kiss on her skin just as he jerked his hips, moving just so that she felt the fullness of him inside her. They fit so wonderfully, and his shaft touched the right places inside her to make her want to scream.
"You feel so good," he rasped, watching her through the mirror, as his hips jerked, and he thrust his hard length inside her. Her response was a strangled moan, one he couldn't help but smirk at, before he was moving inside her with purpose.
His thrust were erratic, hard, almost rough, but just enough that the friction made her knees weak and for a tight coil to form low in her belly. She knew that if he kept this up, she would explode, explode so hard. She threw her head back, letting it fall on his shoulder while he thrust inside her and one of his hand stole up to fondle her breasts. His other hand remained gripping her waist so tightly, she's sure it would leave marks in the morning, just as his sucking kisses on her neck would. She didn't mind. She'd wear those marks proudly (maybe not around Violet Crawley, however).
"You feel so tight, so hot, god, Cora," he murmured against her skin, and she'd wanted to speak to him too, wanted to say something about how good and full he made her feel, but she couldn't speak, her mind was whirling from the pleasure she felt when he moved inside her, his hips thrusting against her backside with pointed movements. His movements were sharp and hard, and god, she loved it.
"Robert," she whispered, unable to say anything more than just his name as the hand that held her hips now moved to stroke her clit roughly, pinching it and making her jerk her hips back into him, bucking against him. "Oh, mmhmm, that feels so good," she finally managed to say.
She tilted her head back just enough so she could kiss him, and when his mouth landed on hers, tongue seeking hers and stroking, exploring, she gasped, breathed in, out harshly. When she snaked her hand up behind her so she could tug on his hair, murmuring against his lips that she was close, he suddenly leapt to action and he started to drive into her with more force than when he started, making her feel so good and bringing her even closer.
They liked to have sex with each other, but they rarely indulged in fucking this hard, and though she would probably feel exhausted should they do it this way all the time, she didn't mind it from time to time.
She liked that Robert couldn't seem to get enough, get close enough.
Her heart was thundering inside her chest, and she was almost out of breath, but she felt so good, so good, and when he pounded into her with one sharp motion, she felt herself coming, and coming, her orgasm ripping through her from her belly, spreading through her until she was shuddering. He didn't let up then, and she knew he was close too, he only kept on pounding into her in a harried speed and an erratic manner, pinching and pulling against her bundle of nerves, grunting every time he pushed in and moaning when he pulled out.
"I'm coming again," she informed him when she felt herself careening over the edge again, and then she pleaded, "Don't stop, please, just like that."
He responded with pushing into her with a bit of force and biting her neck. "Cum with me," he told her, and that was exactly what she did, toppling over the edge just as he exploded inside of her, buried balls deep just like he'd told her, both hands coming up to enfold her in a loose embrace.
She tried to calm down from her high and when she looked back on her reflection in the mirror, she smiled. She was a picture of a woman well-fucked.
Later, when they were lying together in bed, Cora wrapped in Robert's arms, he pressed soft kisses against her skin and relished in holding her again. It was only a few minutes before Christmas day and they just laid down there with each other, waiting to usher it together.
They were having mindless little conversations, content to just let the silence fill in the gaps. It had been such a long, exhausting day, and tonight, their lovemaking had taken another level—and though that had been more than just satisfying, it had also been exhausting, so she remained in his embrace, happy enough to feel his fingers ghost across her skin.
He jumped suddenly, startling her, and she looked at him with wide eyes when he moved from the bed towards his robe which lay discarded on the floor and fished something out.
"Robert?" she asked, trying to get a better look at what he's doing and failing.
"I'm just getting my present for you darling," he said, shifting said robe to rifle through the other pocket.
"I thought we're going to give presents away later?" she asked, confused.
"Yes we are," he affirmed, looking at her. "But I wanted to give this to you in private. I still have presents for you under the tree, but I want you to have this now."
She smiled and sighed, moving to leave the bed, ignoring his look of protest and question before she trudged to her suitcase t retrieve a gift of her own to him. When she found it, she walked back and settled sown on bed, waiting for him. When he had found his, he settled next to her.
She handed her gift first. "This is for you," she said, biting her lip and looking down. She nuzzled her nose to his neck, knowing her face was red by now, and not wanting him to see. Robert tried to pry her away from the nook where she'd firmly planted her face, but she wouldn't budge. Instead she murmured, "I didn't really know to give a man who already has everything, and whatever he didn't, he could so easily have. I hope you don't hate it." The last few words came out in a muffled whisper.
Robert, instead of forcing her to look at him, kissed her forehead and squeezed her. He wound his arms around her and opened her gift whilst holding her. She bit her lip when he tore the wrapping paper and opened the box. Inside the box lay a pair of crescent moon cuff-links with real diamonds and sapphire inlay. She bought it because it reminded her of his eyes, and because she'd found out that he had a rather massive collection of cufflinks. She really did sincerely hope that he liked it.
She felt him pull away, and her heart dropped, saddened that she hadn't even gotten this right. He held her by the shoulder, but one dropped to her chin, making her look at him. He pressed his lips to her in a grateful but heated kiss, and she sighed.
"I know it's not much," she began, and that wasn't exactly true, it had been expensive, but she didn't care. It was just money, and money was nothing compared to the happiness he'd brought to her life. Besides, she had plenty of it, if she couldn't spend it on the man she loved, who else should she spend it for?
"Darling, they're beautiful," he breathed out and she peered into her eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity in them. He did look like he liked them.
"So you like it?" she asked with a tentative smile, gripping his arms now, and looking at him with hopeful eyes.
"Of course, I do," he said, leaning in once more to kiss her. He then moved a little to hand her his present. He was the one who looked shy this time, and he dropped his hand to his lap, looking away from her.
She took the present, before taking his hand and squeezing, making him sigh.
"I hope you like it," he added.
"I'm sure I will," she assured him and then tore the wrapping paper, almost crying when she opened the box and it revealed the most beautiful angel barrette she'd seen in her life. It was encrusted with diamonds, and it glimmered when caught in the light, and by god, it was gorgeous. She flung herself to him and hugged him tight. "This is so beautiful!" she exclaimed.
She pulled back and looked at him with glassy eyes. She couldn't speak right then, and her eyes dropped down to the barrette, her fingers delicately running through it.
"You're my angel," he murmured when he'd pulled her close and placed a kiss on her temple. It was incredibly cheesy and not like her Robert, but it was Christmas, and she really had no qualms about it. He settles her back in his arms and sighs—a wistful, hopeful one. "I hope you always remember that."
Tears gathered at her lashes and she let out a steadying breath as emotions overwhelmed her. "Thank you, Robert," she told him, meaning to thank him not only for the incredible orgasm he just gave her or the gift either, but for everything—for sharing with her the whole season and its magic in his home. She turns and looked him in the eye, placing a kiss on his chin.
"No, thank you, Cora," he said solemnly, and he smiled at her before leaning down to kiss her lips and hold her tighter. He turns a bit to look at the clock on the bedside and smiled, looking back again at her and pressing his lips on her forehead. "Happy Christmas, sweetheart."
She beamed, tears brimming her eyes. "Merry Christmas, Darling," she says back, leaning up to kiss him softly and then nuzzle their noses together.
They made love once more that night, more sedate this time, wanting nothing more than to just feel each other, to show the other how grateful they were of each other's presence in their lives, and just grateful to be what they want to be…together.
…
Christmas morning came along with the Crawley family traditions: a Christmas morning breakfast—waffles and pancakes that were shaped with everything Christmas themed, peppermint-laden cocoa, coffee or tea (because while Violet Crawley seemed the type to pitch her kids to the nanny and just have them starched and iron for Sunday afternoon tea with mother, she went all out with Christmas and it had been a tradition for them to have everything as Christmas themed as Violet could get them since they were kids), and then Christmas presents giving while they sipped Apple Cider or peppermint chocolate with marshmallows in them.
Robert had seen the surprise on Cora's face when she'd found out that she had presents waiting for her too, from himself, Rosamund and Duke and even his parents, but he knew she'd been touched, the tears gathering in her eyes had been a testament to that. He would be lying however if he hadn't been equally as surprised when he'd found out that Mama had bought Cora presents too (a beautiful purple scarf that had hand-embroidered flowers at the bottom), because that had never happened before, not with any of his girlfriends. To be fair, he hadn't really brought any of them home for Christmas, not even Adeline because mama had been resolute that he mustn't bring her.
It seemed Violet warmed up to Cora, though his mother still barely talked to Cora or initiated any conversation with her, other than the questions she would direct at her when Cora had been included in a conversation that Mama was already participating in.
He couldn't make much sense of Mama's disposition, but he was at least happy enough that mother hadn't been too snide with Cora. Sarcasm was mother's way of conversation, so there was nothing surprising in that, but she hadn't had anything vile to say about or to Cora, so there was that. Robert didn't know if he should be nervous or not.
Maybe it was just Christmas being in the air, or something like that. Or maybe Papa had warned her to be on her best behavior. Either way, as long Violet wasn't scaring Cora off, then he was fine with it.
Cora, on the other hand, had just been an absolute dream. She'd been polite and graceful, taking Mama's sarcasm in stride. She gave helpful inputs whenever Rosamund voiced out a dilemma (which he thought were just Ros being a drama queen, to be honest) which seemed to have impressed both Ros and Mama, and had served to curb any future temper tantrums Ros would undoubtedly throw.
All in all it had been a great Christmas, made even better that he was sharing it with Cora. And when it had been time to go back home, he was strangely sorry to leave.
He'd shaken his father's hand and bid him goodbye, with a promise to take care of business, and then he'd hugged his mother, watching from the corner of his eyes as his girlfriend shook his father's hand and bid him goodbye as well.
"So do you like her?" he asked his mother, finally voicing out what had been bugging him throughout the duration of their stay.
"You'll make a peculiar marriage," Mama said with a shrug of her shoulder, and his eyes widened because he hadn't thought his mother considered that for them yet—he knew he hadn't. "She's a spitfire, that girl, I could see, and she picks her flowers fit for an Italian Christening,"—and she was no doubt alluding to that one time that Cora had gushed over some sedated yellow flowers that mama seemed to absolutely hate, he chose not to comment on that; "But well I suppose the heart wants what it wants."
He grinned at her, and shook his head, looking at her with mock surprise. "Mama, I had never pegged you as a romantic," he teased.
Violet swatted his arm and rolled her eyes. "I have been called many things in my life time," she said lowly, eyes throwing daggers at him, "But never that. I don't want it to start now."
He chuckled, and then stepped aside as his girlfriend and his sister moved over to bid mama goodbye, and then they were off.
…
Cora watched her boyfriend fidget as he stood next to her in the arrival gate in the Heathrow airport two days after they came back from the Abbey. They were waiting for her parents to arrive and Robert had been absolutely petrified with the thought of meeting her father. She'd gone and told him that her father wouldn't hate him just because he was dating her, but he wouldn't listen, he was still terrified. She'd be annoyed if he wasn't so adorable.
"Robert," she warned with a laugh, shaking her head. "You don't have to worry about Daddy bringing the entire army, he wouldn't do that."
Robert looked at her aghast. "But he could?" he asked, and he was very much like a child with his wide eyes and his fear that she just had to laugh.
"No," she answered, chuckling, "Don't be ridiculous, of course not, even he isn't that powerful."
Robert didn't answer but he didn't look convinced, either. Cora only huffed and turned away, craning her neck and trying to pot her parents through the crowd. She saw her mother first, wearing a brown mink coat and sporting a brown wide brimmed hat like she'd just come 0ut of an old film. That was just her mother, and in time Cora had learned to take her mother's little quips in stride, no matter how odd she thought they were. Her father was more sedate in his black coat and black leather gloves, looking like he, too, came out from the movies, but those are different from where her mother had. She fought back a smile.
She turned to Robert and beamed. "There they are," she said, excitement coloring her voice, lifting her hand to point at her parents before waving her hand and waiting for them to notice. Her father was the first one to do so and he smiled at her, one that reminded her of the times when she was little, before he pointed her out to her mother who smiled, too, and waved back. She pulled at Robert's hand to meet them halfway.
Robert, on the other hand, seemed less enthused about meeting her parents, and he stood beside her, hand clasped in hers, looking a little more than frightened. He held on to her, gripping and squeezing her hand as they moved closer to her parents.
"It's going to be fine," she whispered to him as they finally met at a halfway point with her parents, and she let his hand go to give her mother a hug and kiss on the cheek, telling her mother how happy she was that they'd been able to make it safely, before she moved to throw her arms around her father's neck, squeezing tight. She felt her heart about to explode in her chest from her happiness. "Daddy," she murmured against her father's neck, feeling tears of joy prickling at her eyes.
"Princess," his father murmured back, no doubt confirming Robert's worst imaginings.
Robert.
Of course.
She moved back and pulled away, looking back at her boyfriend who looked downright scared and took his hand. She smiled, pacifying, watching as her father stared Robert down. "Mother, dad," she began, moving a bit towards Robert. "This is my boyfriend, Robert Crawley. Robert, these are my parents—Martha and Isidore."
Robert took a few seconds before he shook himself and m0ved to kiss her mother's cheek, telling her how nice it was to meet her (all the while obviously trying not to choke at her mother's overpowering perfume), and then moved to offer his hand to her father, who raised an eyebrow critically.
"Ah, so are you the boy who came to break my little girl's heart?" Isidore asked with a hint of mischief (one that Robert was completely oblivious to), but his voice was stern and dangerous.
Robert took a minute to register that, it seemed, as he stuttered: "Yessir." And then he seemed to have realized what he said, because he gasped and then shook his head frantically, making her mother chortle and for Cora to groan. "I mean, no, sir, of course not sir. I care very much about your daughter, I would never want to hurt her, ever."
Of course, this was not the way Cora had wanted this meeting to go. She threw a look at her father, one that Isidore steadfastly ignored.
"You better make sure, Pasty boy, or else—," Isidore warned, leaning in, and though he's a good few inches shorter than Robert, he managed to scare the living daylights out of her boyfriend.
"Daddy," she cut off, shaking her head and widening her eyes in warning. But her father didn't seem to mind, and had in fact reveled in Robert's discomfort, because he only smirked at his obviously stressed out daughter.
Martha was of no help, shrugging only when Cora looked at her imploringly. Cora wondered if she would ever be able to get her father to stop antagonizing her boyfriend that day.
…
Robert knew that he'd made a spectacular fool of himself in front of her father and he was half wondering why Isidore, or Cora for that matter, hadn't thrown him on his ass just yet. He was actually half expecting Cora's father to produce a gun right then and there and shoot at him for being a colossal idiot.
He could feel three pairs of eyes on him as he drove in his SUV on the way to Cora's apartment. She'd managed to convince her parents to stay with her rather than a hotel, and though that meant a temporary ban in their sex life for a few days, he didn't really mind that much. It wasn't like he could make any move on Cora while her parents were in town, because while he's sure that Cora's parents know that they were having sex, Robert wasn't entirely sure about being caught actually having it.
Besides from what Cora had told him about her mother back when they'd only begun this aspect of their romantic life, he wasn't entirely sure they'd be okay with it. Her mother would probably have a conniption fit, just like his would if they found out for sure.
He pulled the car over the parking lot and turned the engine, climbing out to go over to Cora's side and open hers for her. She took his hand and squeezed lightly, smiling indulgently at him. He tried to smile back, which only came out as a grimace before he moved to take the luggage from the boot of his car. From his peripherals, he saw Cora link arms with her mother and they moved towards the lift, just as Isidore moved next to him, taking some of the suitcases, and together they lugged them after the ladies.
At least he wasn't made to take all of the things alone, he thought.
When Cora opened the door to her apartment, she directed her parents to their room during their stay and then helped them settle in. Robert, meanwhile, moved to greet the delivery boy at the door (they'd called in for takeout on the way home because Martha had complained of being jet-lagged and exhausted) and paid for their food. And then he began setting the plates, just as his girlfriend walked out of the guest bedroom and into the kitchen.
She wrapped her arms around him, halting him in his task, and laid her head on his back. He set the plates down the table and turned so that he was holding her. She rested her chin on his chest and sighed.
"I'm sorry for Daddy," she said with a frown. "He's just being him. Don't worry about him."
He shook his head and leaned down to nuzzle his nose with hers, making her smile. "It's okay, really," he said with a soft smile. "I understand, though I hope they and you would believe me when I say my intentions to and with you are honorable. I want to make and be your happiness."
He could see the emotions flash through her beautiful brown eyes, and she seemed unable to say anything, had only been able to close her arms tighter around him and kiss him softly.
"I'm still on guard, though, in case your father decides to shoot at me," he added, making her chuckle.
"Don't worry so much," she reassured, reaching up to kiss him softly, again. "They'll like you. He's just trying to give you a hard time to know what your intentions are, but he'll like you, so would my mom. I suspect they already do, just be yourself. They'll adore you, almost as much as I do." She paused and then grinned. "But no one else could really adore anyone more than I adore you."
He shook his head and leaned in. "I think I do. I adore you more," he told her, sighing softly. And when she raised a skeptic eyebrow at him, he added, "Want to bet on it?" Before he leaned in and nuzzled their noses once more.
Their moment was interrupted by a clearing of throat and both of them lifted their heads to find Cora's parents standing at the entrance of the kitchen, looking at them. Isidore's brow was lifted, while Martha just looked like she was barely containing her glee.
Well, wasn't that something?
It was a start anyway.
"Mom, Daddy," Cora said, springing away from him to walk over to her parents. He continued only to set the table as they made their way to the table. "We ordered take out. Come sit, sit, let's eat."
They all settled down and began eating. Robert felt relief flood through him when Cora's parents began a conversation with him about his company and his life, and was no longer sending him snide remarks or pointed looks. Even Isidore seemed like he was relaxing more with Robert's company. By the time their meal ended, Robert had been able to draw out a laugh from Isidore, and he considered that a success.
…
There was an odd turnabout of events that evening.
Well not really turnabout, if she'd assess it again. But it was definitely odd.
There had been a trickle of the awkwardness from earlier that day after her father had said something insulting and completely untrue that had Robert's blood boiling. She'd been the one to dispel it, putting a stop to the idea before it even began to fester. Robert had been a complete sport, taking it like water over his back, not even spitting anything remotely spiteful at her father once and had unclenched at once, no matter how much she knew it had hurt him.
There was very little tension between them now.
They were all lounging, then, in her den, sipping wine and scotch, and making idle chatter. It had just after dinner, and had been after they'd exchanged presents and had sat in front of the fire, willing the last 0f their exhaustion to settle onto all of them and lead them to their beds. It was late, not terribly so, but late enough that has her worrying about her boyfriend coming home.
She'd offer to let Robert stay, but she knows him, knows how deathly afraid he already is of her father, and doesn't want to have him veto the idea in front of her parents at the risk of him having to admit his unsolicited fear. So she turned to him from where he was holding her quite tightly in his arms (the only brazen display of affection he's allowed since her parents caught them earlier on making lunch), and she smiled lazily at him.
"It's late, Robert," she reminded him, telling him in not so many words that it was time for him to go home because she was not about to allow him to stay too late and have an accident—not that she thought she had any control over it, but it would certainly make him feel better.
He looked at the clock which hung by the wall and sighed, dropping a kiss absent-mindedly on the crown of her head. "Yes," he agreed with a sigh, reluctantly letting her go and making a move to stand up. "I guess it's time for me to leave."
Her parents were oddly quiet.
Robert turned to them and smiled. "It's been a nice day, and it was a pleasure meeting you both," he said politely, walking over to sake their hands and kiss her mother's cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow. Cora's planned for lunch, I think." Then he turned to her. "Didn't you darling?"
"Yes, I did," she said, quick to leap into action, trying to avoid making things awkward as her boyfriends sometimes ought to do, though almost always unintentionally. "We'll meet you at the Covent Garden, then?" At his nod, she smiled. "Come, I'll walk you to the door."
He nodded, bidding her parents goodbye once more, and Cora wrapped one arm around his waist, holding her to him tightly as they made their way to the door. She knew that it was only a short distance and there wasn't even enough division to have privacy, but at least there was a fair distance between them.
They stopped at the door and she smiled tiredly at him. She leaned up and kissed him. "I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked. "I'd ask you to breakfast but I'm sure Mama has her own idea of how she wants to spend that." For the past few weeks, they'd had a routine of getting breakfast together whenever their schedules allowed it, becoming more often when Cora had started her break. And considering they practically lived together, they'd gone out for breakfast or lunch often.
"It's alright, sweetheart," he said, stroking her hair and hugging her as if he didn't really want to let her go, or to go anywhere, for that matter, at all. "I'll see you at lunch, and then maybe dinner." He leaned into her and nuzzled her nose. "See you tomorrow, my darling. Have sweet dreams."
"They'll be sweeter if you were right beside me," she murmured before kissing him. He sighed, probably sharing the sentiment before he pulled away and opened the door, waving goodbye.
She closed the door when he walked inside the lift and the elevator doors closed on them. When she walked back inside her apartment, her mother was raising an eyebrow, and her father looked pleased.
"He really did leave?" Cora didn't know what her mother meant, had only watched as Martha tilted her head. "You mean to say that was not all an act?" her mother asked with amusement, to which her father's mouth twitched. She continued to look at them with puzzlement. "I thought I was watching a TV Drama."
"Mother!" she exclaimed with indignation, though for what really, she wasn't sure. Surely there was an insult there somewhere. It's her mother.
Suddenly, Cora's mind flashed with the image of her mother and Robert's mother meeting, and she vowed to delay that as much as she possibly could. Both her mother and Violet were kind people, but they were at no uncertain terms not the kind of people anyone would call nice—snarky, sarcastic, and temperamental—but not nice, per se, and them meeting could cause an implosion, if not another World War.
"Well, I hadn't really thought that was for real," her mother said, huffing. "I thought that whole leaving thing was just an act. He's not coming back later in the dead of the night, is he?"
"And why not?" she asked, half bewildered, half aghast. "And no mother, he is not. We are not teenagers."
"You mean to tell me he doesn't stay over quite a lot?" her mother asked again, changing her tactics, and Cora felt herself flush.
This was not the conversation that she wanted to have with her mother, ever, at all, and especially not in front of her father and so Cora huffed and turned away. She walked away from the quickly, throwing a huffy good night over her shoulder that has her parents snickering, and making her even more indignant.
She ignored them and tried getting ready for bed. She shed her clothes and took a quick shower, wishing Robert was there and that she could sleep in her arms. This whole having parents over was quickly becoming a bad idea, and she was slightly blaming herself for that—well, not slightly, more like a lot, to be honest. It was even worse when she would get her period, because at least then, she just couldn't make love to Robert, but right now she couldn't even sleep next to him!
She should wonder about being so attached and so close at such a short time, they haven't been dating for more than three months, but they lived in each other's pocket so much. She had definitely not introduced a past boyfriend to her parents after dating them for this short a time, but Robert was different.
She felt that he was different.
And it was a thought that she didn't have to think twice over, she thought as she walked out of her bathroom and begun rummaging through her drawers for something to wear. Nothing looked appealing enough, and after she pulled her boy cut panties over her hips, she moved over to the drawer she saved for Robert (which seemed to be growing and growing in amount lately) and pulled out a soft grey t-shirt he often wore to bed himself. She pulled it up her nose and sniffed—she could smell her own fabric conditioner, but it still had a whiff of Robert's scent and that was good enough for her. Pulling it over her head, she sighed, pulled the towel she wound over her head and threw it to the hamper before she made her way to her vanity and finished her nightly routine. When she'd finished drying and brushing her hair, she put on her robe and walked out of the bedroom to get herself a glass of water, or milk—anything to make herself sleep faster and not notice the cold emptiness that Robert left behind for the night.
It's just for a week, she told herself, not even a full week come to think of it, she could survive it. She wasn't that attached to him yet.
She was surprised when she walked in and found her mother in front of the stove stirring something that smelled suspiciously of hot cocoa, and she smiled.
"Have a seat, I'll have a cup ready for you," her mother said with her back still turned, surprising Cora. Cora briefly wondered if her mother thought it was her father, but Isidore never drank cocoa—or at least not as far as Cora could remember. "I'll even spike it with whiskey." This time Martha turned around and gave her a wink.
Cora laughed and pulled a chair, sitting down and waiting patiently for her mother to serve the cocoa. When Martha did, Cora lifted the cup to her lips and blew.
"Can't sleep without your boyfriend over?" Martha asked without preamble, almost making Cora choke on her drink. Of course, her mother was never the one to beat about the bush.
Cora took a sip before shaking her head and sighing. There really was no point in lying. Her mother would know, and besides what good would that do?
"Then why didn't you just ask him to stay over?" Martha inquired, taking a sip of her own drink, which Cora was sure was more whiskey than actual chocolate.
Cora huffed. Again, this was not the conversation she wanted to have with her mother, ever. She just didn't want to discuss her sex life or sleeping arrangements with her boyfriend with her mother. There are just things you don't do—this was one of them. "I couldn't," she answered simply, hoping to have it end at that.
Of course not.
"Pssh," her mother wheezed out with a look of disbelief and dissatisfaction. "It's not like he never stays over."
Cora gritted her teeth in an effort to not just bolt away and retreat to her bedroom. That would be rude, now, wouldn't it? Not that this line of questioning was any better.
"Please, Cora," her mother snorted into her mug. "I wasn't born yesterday, and you aren't born in the 1800s. I'm quite sure you haven't been exactly waiting after marriage, the way you two look at each other. Even your father knows that, which is why he was so pleased to see Robert go home, but we aren't that clueless." Cora remained unclenching and her mother sighed. "It's not a sin, dear."
That had made Cora snap her head towards her mother with a purpose. Her mother would tell her that now? After all the fuss she'd made before about purity and keeping her virginity and reputations and all that nonsense bull crap?
"Oh, I know what I told you," Martha said, sighing, as if reading her thoughts, "But there's no crime in showing the man you love how much you do. Sometimes, words cannot be enough. I only said those things before, in hopes to dissuade you from giving it away on a whim just because you thought you loved someone."
Well, that was odd.
And as much Cora loathed to admit it, she'd come close too many times in doing just that. She just wished her mother had not made it look like such a shame and instilled the fear of God deep in her.
There was nothing wrong in a woman using her body in any which way that pleased her. In the end, it would still be her body and she had the right to do with as she wished, garnering no judgment from others, and least of all from herself.
"I'm sorry I made you feel like it was such an immoral act," Martha said then, sincerely, seeming aware of the line of thoughts her mind had taken. Martha reached over squeezed her hand. "It wasn't, but I wanted to protect you, and I wanted you to protect yourself. Maybe I should have gone about a different way, but I had not, and I couldn't change it now. I could just hope you could forgive me."
Cora smiled, unwilling to let that come between them now. Right or not, her mother had so far done what she had originally planned, and though Cora wished too that she hadn't quite put that in the way that made Cora ashamed by her own sensuality and baser, more carnal urges, it had protected her from some of the evil of the world, made her think twice…it wasn't prescribed, but it had been done, and had done its job. Certainly, she could not begrudge her mother that.
She nodded and squeezed her mother's hand back.
"Not let's talk about Robert," Martha said, eyes twinkling with a teasing light rather than the usual disdain her mother had when talking about her past boyfriends.
Cora smiled brightly.
"You love him don't you?" Martha asked, and though her eyes were still twinkling, it was without teasing or derision.
Cora bit her lip, feeling warmth flood her cheeks, "Yes, mama," she answered, nodding, "Yes, I do."
…
Lunch was a nice affair, even Isidore seemed to be on high spirits, and hadn't tried to goad Robert into behaving anything less than a gentleman. Of course, Robert had tampered his temper down, Isidore was his girlfriend's father, not just some old man, and he could never disrespect him in that regard, but there had been other times, like yesterday, admittedly, that Robert hadn't been able to help but clench his jaws at the more insulting insinuations Isidore made (like how Robert probably pursued Cora because she was a Levinson, which was phrased a little bit differently but still hold the same sentiment). It had been said under Isidore's breath, like it wasn't meant for Robert to hear and Cora had been the one to put a stop to that, had probably felt him clenching his fingers into fists, and had set her father straight by saying that Robert had met her when she'd been playing at the pub. He hadn't known about her fortune until they were already together—which wasn't technically the full truth—it had been on their first date, but wasn't exactly a lie either.
It had shut Isidore up rather quickly, and Martha only stared at him with wide eyes. They all probably believed that most of the men that pursued their daughter wanted her only for one thing, but that was not the case for him. He would be lying if he didn't admit how much of an advantage that had been for their relationship in general, but that hadn't been the reason why he had wanted to be Cora, and it never would be.
But that day had been different, everyone had seemed to have gotten along better, and no one was trying to get on the other's nerve. Instead they talked about sites they could visit, or the weather which was much more pleasant than it usually was at this time of year, or the Ascot which Cora's father had expressed desires of attending (only it would be over the summer, not now, but Robert had extended invitations, as their family had horses they bred just for the occasion).
By the time they'd split for lunch, they were all in better moods. Cora's parents had given them some time alone, having gone to the store under the guise that Martha had wanted to check something out. Isidore looked less than thrilled, but hadn't been able to say anything when his wife dragged him bodily into the store. It had been a convenient store, a 24-hour store that had just about everything, still Robert doubted there was anything there that Martha Levinson needed. He was grateful, however, for the time alone with his girlfriend.
He pulled her into him, pushing her a bit closer into the wall of the back alley where they had sequestered themselves for the time being to say their goodbyes, never mind that they'd see each other again later.
"I'll miss you," Cora said poutily as she looped her arms around Robert's neck. She sighed as she placed a kiss against his lips. "I feel like a teenager sneaking around." Then she frowned a bit. "That, and I feel like I haven't had a moment alone with you until now."
Robert sighed, too, sharing the same sentiment, before he leaned down to nuzzle their nose. He dropped a bit more, to kiss her, more urgently this time, slipping his tongue past the seam of her lips and stroking, once, twice, hoping to light the same fire she had lit in him. His hand seemed to roam on their own accord, dropping to cup her breasts, down to her flat stomach and around the curve of her ass.
That was until Cora stopped him, moaning as she did so. She squeezed his wrist.
"If you don't stop that, I'm going to want to make you take me right here," she whispered raggedly, opening her eyes and he could see that they're dilated, a deeper, darker shade of blue—a tell tale sign that she wanted him, as much as he wanted her, too. "And this is not really a good place." She ended with a soft laugh, but he could tell it was strained.
He pulled away, missing her warmth instantly, but he needed to. If not, he would really take her right then and right there and that was not a good idea, no matter how much his body voted yes to the idea. But he wanted her in his arms, and so he pulled her close again, kissing her forehead and then nuzzling their noses together.
"I'll see you tonight," he told her, kissing her nose then her lips, but not letting it get too far this time, because he wasn't entirely sure he could exercise such control the second time.
"Yes," Cora agreed easily, hugging him tight. "I'll see you tonight."
And then they walked out of the alley, meeting with her parents on the street who only gave them a questioning look, before parting ways at the parking lot.
Robert counted the hours from then until he had to leave the office. It had been a long day, and he felt as though the hours seemed to go backwards rather than forward. When the clock struck half past four, he was up and off his seat, throwing a harried "have a good day" to his secretary before he was riding the lift, on the way down to the ground floor, and was off in his car, speeding his way to Cora's apartment.
It hadn't even taken him twenty minutes.
Cora had called him, and had told him that she was making dinner tonight, rather than going out, claiming that she'd rather have a quiet evening in after a day of activities, and he should just head straight for her apartment. He had frowned then, told her she'd be tired and to order take out instead, but she'd been adamant. He'd only been instructed to get some blueberry cheesecake on his way home.
He'd gotten one from Daisy's, Cora's favorite pastry shop which fortunately for him was on his way (not that he wouldn't have gone there anyway had it not been). He made his way to Belgravia then, and was in her flat in another thirty minutes, barely managing to avoid the traffic.
His keys jiggled in his palm as he moved to open the lock with it. But he needed not bother, the door was unlocked and it opened, revealing a stressed looking Cora. She looked about ready to cry. He pulled her into his arms, carefully balancing the box of cheesecake on the other.
He felt her shoulder heave as her arms wrapped around his waist, and he placed a soft kiss against her forehead, murmuring a quiet, 'what's wrong?'
She sighed deeply. "They're bickering like the old married couple that they are and driving me crazy," she said heavily, her words making him chuckle, before she threw him a look and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from laughing. "And when they're not bickering, they turn on to me!"
Robert felt sympathy roll off on him for her. He leaned down and kissed her forehead again before pressing them close and rubbing her nose against his. "I'm sorry darling," he said sympathetically. "Has it been going on all day?"
She nodded softly, arms tightening around them. "I just need a moment alone," she whispered, though the way she held him told him she didn't need a minute by herself, she needed a minute alone with him.
And that was exactly what he gave her, holding her for a few glorious minutes and letting her lean onto him until she felt a little better.
He held her hand when they walked in, and she'd looked at him with gratitude. They made their way straight to the kitchen where Cora's mother seemed to be stirring the sauce for whatever glorious smelling dinner they were about to have, while Isidore was conspicuously absent. It surprised him that Martha even knew how to cook (she didn't seem the type), but it was of no surprise that Cora's father wasn't there.
The air was thick with tension and he could feel Cora's shoulder sag.
"Dinner's almost ready," Martha said, back turned to them. "Set the table."
Robert chanced a look down at his girlfriend, but Cora only closed her eyes and heaved a sigh before letting his hand go and walking over to the cupboards. She extracted some plates and glasses, and made her way to the table to arrange them. He decided to put the cheesecake in the fridge, before he took some cutleries himself and set them alongside the plates. Cora gave him a smile when they fingers brushed, and he smiled back, wanting nothing more than to relieve her tension.
Maybe he could cajole her into walking around with him after dinner, before he went home. The fresh air would do her good.
When they'd finished, Cora helped her mother serve the dinner—ravioli and grilled chicken and asparagus—while he took the wine from the pantry and poured for four glasses. Cora had been in charge of finding her father and getting him to the dining table—a task that she obviously dreaded. He thought he'd offer, just so Cora wouldn't have to, but the thought of facing Isidore when the tension was so thick and the mood so dismal did not appeal at all. He told himself he was just being a coward, but Cora had dismissed him before he could even express his thought, and so there had been that (a little consolation and perhaps a justification for his ego).
Isidore's good mood from the morning had all but dissipated as he lagged behind his daughter, and his mouth was pulled into a frown. Cora looked ramrod stiff and guarded, and that worried him. He wondered what they had all been arguing over before Cora had to go outside to chill. He knew his girlfriend, knew how patient she could actually be, knew how much it took to anger her. In the months that they'd been together, she'd only been pissed at him twice—and that had because he'd been an insufferable jackass, even by his standards. But this was her parents, and he'd heard her talk to them over the phone so many times before, so he knew that she had an abundance of patience for them (she hadn't done anything more than roll her eyes when her parents had exasperated her).
He pulled a chair for Cora when she made a move to sit and waited for Martha to be seated before he took a seat himself. When his plate was handed to him, he murmured a soft 'thanks' and slowly and quietly cut portions before he put them in his mouth. The dinner was delicious, the wine too, but the silence and the tension almost made him choke, and he wasn't entirely sure how to react, not really sure how to begin a conversation or if he should.
By the time Cora served the desserts, he was almost grateful and really couldn't wait to get the hell out of there. He'd not only cajole his girlfriend, he'd even beg or drag her bodily if he had to (not that he really would drag her, but he suspected Cora wouldn't really decline such offer)—the tension was just too much!
Isidore's chair scraped clear across the wooden tiles when he moved back and left the table without a word. He saw Martha's mouth purse, but she hadn't said anything, only took Isidore's discarded plate and stacked it with hers and brought it to the sink. He looked at Cora who only sighed and shrugged, doing the same thing her mother had done with his plate before she stood up and walked away.
Robert stood up and followed, immediately trying to help Cora as she stacked the plates in the dishwasher, but she shooed his hand away with no real bite.
"I'll do it," she said softly, "You'll just get in my way. How about you just go get our coats? Let's go take a walk."
He hadn't even had to ask, and he didn't even think twice—with a nod, he made his way to the coat closet at the right of the door, passing Martha on his way, who was wiping the counters and then the table. He nodded at her, and she did the same.
At the same moment he finished buttoning his coat, Cora walked out of the kitchen and made his way to her, looking just as grim as he'd left her. Without a word, he held out her coat and helped her to it, turning her to him and smiling at her as he wrapped her neck gently with her scarf. That earned him a small smile, before she reached for him and kissed him softly. They were out the door in seconds.
There really wasn't much place to walk around the Belgravia. No, that was not exactly true, there just weren't many places Robert was willing to trudge around in this weather.
The cold breeze his skin bitingly, and white smoke floated in the air whenever he exhaled, but he knew he was willing to walk through hellfire if it meant that Cora wouldn't feel as bad as she seemed to have felt inside the apartment. He didn't even know what was going on exactly and he felt stifled, he could just imagine how Cora felt.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked when they were a good distance away from her flat. He turned to look at her and squeezed her hand which he held. He led her inside a coffee shop, just because he couldn't stand the cold anymore, and she seemed grateful. They'd ordered their coffee and settled on a booth at the back first, before she had been able to answer.
She sighed. "I don't know," she admitted, and he supposed that was better than the standard 'I'm fine'. At least she was being honest with him. "I get tired when they're like that."
"What happened?" he asked, not really sure if he had already earned the right to be privy to that already. They had only been dating for three months…was it only really just that short? It had felt longer, in a good way. He cleared his throat. "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to, of course."
She was silent for a while, and he actually thought she wasn't going to tell him. He was fine with that, he never wanted to force anything on her, and so he was surprised when she sighed and spoke quietly.
"I suppose I should tell you since you're involved," she told him, and that had been a surprise. He was about to ask why as his heart trip hammered in his chest, but she'd beat him to it. "Mother had expressed her want for me to visit more often, which was nothing new, mother always says that. If mother had her way, I wouldn't be here at all."
Robert looked at her, tilting his head slightly. He knew that. She'd talked to him at length about her mother hadn't wanted her to pursue her art degree, not if she had to be halfway across the planet from her family. Martha hadn't really been against her having the degree, just the fact that Cora had to be in London to obtain it.
"Daddy had always encouraged my leaving, said I had to learn how to spread my own wings and do as I wish, which had always been a sore point for them in the past, because mother said, and I quote, she can spread her damn wings as much as she wants, I just don't see why she has to spread it in another country. But daddy had wanted me to be happy, and I had pleaded and reasoned that this made me happy—to be here. I wanted to learn arts in London, and I was old enough to do it."
He knew that, but he didn't understand what the issue was.
"It seemed now that the tables had flipped," she added softly now, fidgeting. He wondered why. "You know as much as I that my days here are limited. I only have a year, maybe two to complete everything, three at the most, if I pursue a Doctorate. And mother now seems to understand why I wanted to stay, and had only asked that I go home as often as was allowed because she does miss me, as I miss her."
Well, that was a good thing. He waited her out, letting her continue in her own time, his hands making little circles on the soft skin of her palm.
"I'd have agreed, but it seemed Daddy had other plans. He seemed to disagree. He's the one who wants me to come home now, finish my degree in the United States," she admitted, and for a moment his heart stopped, a lump formed in his throat and he found it hard to swallow—it was too heavy and too hard.
His heart faltered in his chest as his mind ran a mile per minute. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure really what to say. What if Cora had decided to follow her father? He knew how much Cora loved Isidore and h0w willing she'd be to do as he asked. But where did that leave them?
He'd never had worried about them (he did, does, but not too much, not a lot of the times anyway), because he figured that they still had time, or that Cora would find a job and stay, but he saw now how entirely naïve he'd been. Of course Cora would come home, she's the heiress to the Levinson company. And what would she do in London?
Would she even stay if he asked?
He had known problems would arise about them having lives in different sides of the world, he just didn't think it would arise this soon.
(And he had thought that he had been getting along better with Isidore. What had happened to that? The man changed his mind about Robert every two minutes, really.)
"Mother vetoed that and so did I of course," she continued, and it made Robert breathe a little easier—thank God for that. "Mother said that I've begun making a life here, and that I should stay as long as I wish, and I told him basically the same, but he won't hear of it."
Well, okay—back with that lump in his throat again.
"I just—," she paused, and looked at him and he could see the tears in his eyes. Now would be the time to ask, no beg, her to stay. He'd do anything to make her stay. She couldn't go. There was just…no, he couldn't let that happen. Before he could act on any of his big ideas, she continued, "He told me that the reason why I don't want to leave now is because of you, and that I hadn't gone home for the holidays too, because of you. And then he told me that I was being foolish, because you're probably going to get tired of me anyway, or that you'd leave me. And that was the point that Mother had started yelling at him and I walked out and you came."
His heart stopped completely this time.
He was the reason? At least that was what Isidore thought, but was he?
And whatever happened to him assuring her father of his good intentions? Robert knew that it was impossible not to hurt the people you love, pain after all is the byproduct of love, but he would never intentionally want to hurt Cora. Who would? Cora was such a lovely, beautiful, wonderful, marvelous woman…he could go on and on but the time would never be enough.
And ultimately, he was in love with this wonderful creature…he couldn't even bear the thought of paper cut on her.
She was quiet now, looking down and biting her lip, fiddling with her thumbs after she'd pulled her hand away. He was stunned. The air had left him and he forgot where the other half of his tongue went.
Now would be the time to tell her how much he loved her.
But words didn't come to him.
"Am I really the reason?" he asked instead, and then he mentally kicked himself because he was a stupid, stupid fool.
A coward.
She sighed and looked away. He wanted to look into those beautiful blue eyes, but he was scared, too.
"Yes," she murmured, still not looking at him. She dropped her gaze to her lap. "And I know in my heart that it's worth it, that you're worth it…"
But…there was a 'but' there somewhere.
She didn't continue the thought.
Tell her, his heart told him.
You're not ready, his mind said.
"I…" he began, choking on the words that were at the tip of his tongue. "I'd love it if you'd stay."
Not that she was asking, you idiot, he thought. What she needed to hear were the three words he already knew he felt for her.
"I know you're not asking," he said, lifting his shaking fingers to cup her chin and make her look at him. "I'm not sure if there was a decision to be made, and I do know that if there is, it's still your decision…but I would love it if you would stay." He sighed, her eyes were glassy. "I'm not really sure what the future holds." He swallowed. He needed to stop being a coward. "But I do know that I want to find that out with you."
Those weren't the words she probably wanted to hear, but they were close enough, and he hoped she'd think so. He breathed a sigh of relief when her lips stretched into a wide smile and she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tight and close.
"There was never a question of my staying," she murmured against his skin and his arms tightened around her, overwhelmed by the feelings that washed over him.
If his heart and mind could just react loudly, they'd be singing hallelujah.
…
Her heart was singing a chorus of hallelujah as Robert's words reached her ears. They weren't exactly what she had hoped to hear, but for now they were good enough. Had he said the words, she'd have given them to him too, but with things as they were, she was sure she could wait a couple more weeks until he was ready.
The hesitation in his eyes had told her that he wasn't really to either hear or say it. So, she'd wait, she could do that. She wasn't in a rush. Now that he'd expressed a desire for a future with her, in words and not just actions, she wasn't troubled.
She would admit that her father's words earlier had went straight to her heart because they were her exact fears. She'd wondered often if she was just a temporary fix for Robert (despite the many reassurances of her relatives in their little Christmas party that she was different from the rest, the mere fact that she was invited at the Abbey at all was a testament to that), or if he was just bidding his time, playing with her until he got tired and discarded her. Cora had experienced being played before, and she'd learned to be wary. One experience was enough for a lifetime, never mind multiple times.
But now that Robert had confirmed his desire for a future together…well, her father's words meant nothing. Of course, verbal reassurances almost always amount to nothing, people change their minds, promises can get broken…but for now she'd bask in it.
"I hope you don't doubt how serious I am with you, Cora," he told her, making her heart flutter, as they walked back home. She was feeling so much better now, and had told him that she'd rather not brave anymore of that bitter coldness. "I am serious about us, about you. I was a mess when you'd found me, when we met, but I'm better now, because of you, all because of you. I hope you know that."
Her heart kept singing. Soon, she'd jump out and break into a song, herself.
She turned to him and kissed him softly. "I'm serious about us, too," she said as she pulled away. "I know we haven't been together long…but I… I care for you, a lot. And I want to be with you." She'd admit that she loved, loves, him but she knew he wasn't ready.
They arrived at her building and they walked over to the lift, hand in hand. Luckily, one of the lift opened quickly and they entered, making their way up to her flat.
"I haven't really thought I'd ever be in a serious relationship again after…well, you know," he said, and yes she did know. That bitch, Adeline…but all was well now, Cora would help Robert move on completely from that evil woman. "But you came into my life."
He pushed her against the wall of the lift and kissed her, pulling her flush into him and she did nothing but wrap her arms around his neck, opening her mouth when he swiped his tongue at the seams of her lips. He pushed his tongue in and stroked hers, eliciting a moan from her—one that came deep from her throat, and one she wouldn't really recognize as hers if she hadn't felt it ripping from her vocal cord. His hands undid her scarf quickly, letting the flaps fall loose, before they fell to her derrière, and she let loose another moan before she's pushing herself closer to him, his hardening shaft pushing against her thigh.
"Robert," she murmured, pulling away so she could speak. "Baby, stay the night."
The elevator dinged and the doors opened before he could reply and she grabbed his hand and pulled him after her. He pushed her against the wall next to her door and nuzzled his nose against the skin where her neck met her shoulder. He nipped at her.
"I want to," he breathed against her skin, making her shudder from his warm breath. "God, I really want to, but your parents."
She shook her head and buried her fingers on his hair, mussing it and making him even more delicious to her. "They know," she murmured. "Mom knows we're having sex. It's not like it's the best kept secret, and it's not like it isn't obvious. My dad knows too."
He looked horrified, but she kissed him before he could protest. He pulled away and she pouted, letting one hand fall to his overly clothed chest, fiddling with the buttons of his coat until she managed to pop it open.
"Just because they know we're having it, I don't think they'd appreciate us actually doing it with them just next door," he told her, and he has a point of course, but she didn't really care.
She lowered her hand further and ran her palm down his hardened cock. "I could be quiet," she murmured against his lips after she'd bitten down on it. "And I quote, 'that's just part of the fun'."
He chuckled, though it was hoarse and came out more as a dry cough. "Cora," he said, rubbing against her hand now. "You're not playing fair. And we're outside your door. Someone, if not your parents, could come out and catch us on the act."
She smirked. "That's why you need to come in with me and stay the night," she said as she wrapped herself further into him. She lifted her lips to his ears and sucked his earlobe. "I want you Robert. I need you." She trailed kisses down his throat, then back up on his jaw, to the back of his ear, licking him where he was most sensitive. "Fuck me, baby."
It was those words that did it for him, and he pushed her more forcefully against the wall, making her grunt and wonder if he really was going to take her right then and there. His cock certainly seemed to agree with that idea as it strained against his pants. Her body also put in a yes vote to that as she felt herself grow damper at the thought.
A wicked thought came to her mind. She wasn't really above herself to tease him, and decided that she would. She pushed against his chest.
"But you're right," she said, congratulating herself on sounding more calm than she felt. Her nerves were on the rage. "You can't fuck me if my parents are here. What if my father hears us? He'd surely use you for gun practice then." She bit her lip as indecision settled on her boyfriend's face. Good. At least he wasn't so resolute on leaving her high and dry. "You'll just have to take a cold shower when you get home, and I," she murmured the last part, leaning into him and letting her lips graze his ear, "I'm just going to have to sort this out myself."
It should be very clear to him how she planned on sorting this one out.
And it was, because suddenly he's pushing her against the wall again, kissing her in almost bruising manner, his hands roaming and groping her places that made her go from a soft mmhmmm to grunting uh-yesss, right in the middle of her hallway.
"Baby," she moaned out when his hands opened her coat and pushed inside her top. "Stay the night?"
He didn't even answer before he was hiking her in his hips, pushing her against the door. She sincerely hoped her parents were asleep by now, that and that there were no security cameras anywhere in the hallway (fat chance on either). She pulled away and slithered down his body, making sure to brush her throbbing core to his hardened shaft, eliciting a grunt from him, before she breathed deeply and attempted to make herself presentable, just in case her parents were still awake. Robert did the same, and then she pushed the door open to find the flat empty. The lights were dimmed, and her parents' coats were in the closet when they shucked theirs inside.
Her parents weren't in the kitchen either and the guest bedroom was quiet when they passed by, the lights were out. Cora wondered briefly what happened, but when she felt her boyfriend's fingers on her hips, it suddenly didn't matter. She turned around and grabbed his collar, grinning at him as she pulled him inside her bedroom.
He tried to tackle her when they were inside and she'd locked the door, but she managed to side step him, smirking at him all the while. He raised an eyebrow, his questioning eyes turning into appreciative when she started to strip right in front of him.
"Cora," he breathed out when she was buck naked in front of him, but she only smiled and crooked her finger. He followed, arms wrapping around her waist. "You're so beautiful."
That was nice, but now was not the time for sentiments. She wanted hot and heavy. She wanted what they were about to do on the hallway of her building. She wanted him to fuck her, so she undid the buttons of his shirt and reached up to kiss him, biting down on his bottom lip before leading him to the bathroom.
…
His girlfriend was a goddess. He was sure of that.
She was a goddess and she was his.
All his.
He let himself be led to the bathroom, not that he'd have the energy to fight her or refuse, hard as he was (he was so hard it was almost painful, and it had been a relief when she'd freed him from the constraints of his boxers). He also let her turn on the shower, before she dragged him to the sink, sitting atop the marble counter and wrapping her legs around his waist.
"Remember when you took me against the counter last Christmas?" she asked, voice husky and eyes dilated with lust. And of course he remembered. God, he felt himself get harder at the memory. "We don't have many memories in the bathroom, don't you think?"
That was true. His naughty, naughty girlfriend was right. They'd had sex in her tub once, and then their encounter in his childhood home last Christmas, but no more than that.
He sensed that she needed no answer, and then just proceeded to assault her neck with his kisses, nipping and licking against her flesh, making her loll her head back and giving him more access. His hands came up to cup her breasts, rubbing against the puckered nipples, and he pinched them, rolled them in his fingers before he lowered his head and suckled, nipped, licked and bit down on them.
She was moaning loudly, and he was mentally thanking her good idea of turning the shower on.
He slipped one hand down to where she was hot and ready for him, while the other played with her other breast. Without saying a word or caution, he slipped his finger inside her core, using his thumb to flick against her hardened clit.
They could make love a thousand times but it would always be as great and as breathtaking as the first time.
"You're so wet for me," he murmured against her skin as he bit on her breast. "So fucking wet, Cora."
She moaned, gasping loudly as her fingers thrust through his hair. She threw her head back. "For you," she said. "God, Robert, you feel so good."
He endeavored to make her feel even better as he slipped another finger in and thrust in and out, hard and fast, giving her no time to catch her breath before he's pulling her closer to the edge of the counter and spreading her legs wide. He dropped on to his knees and lapped against her clit, keeping the steady pace of his thrusting finger. She was thrashing now, head moving side to side, as she murmured incoherent sentences, screaming his name, and god's, and more, more, mmhmm, yes, Robert, right there, baby, right there, yeah.
She was a right mess, and he was responsible.
He would be proud of himself later, right now he really needed her to cum.
But then an idea slipped his mind and he grinned against her cunt, and stopped. Just stopped.
Her eyes snapped open and she stared at him in disbelief and incredulity, before she opened her mouth and demanded rather rudely that he finished eating her out.
He chuckled, and she glared at him. "Well," he said slowly, dragging it out and making her more impatient, "You did say you were going to sort this out."
Her eyes widened, and he'd laugh if the idea of seeing her pleasure herself wasn't an incredibly erotic one. He moaned, despite himself.
"Robert," she said with hesitation, but he wouldn't let her be ashamed of that, not something as beautiful as that, so he leaned in and nuzzled her neck, placing biting kisses against her skin.
"Let me watch," he begged, he bit down her flesh and soothed it with his tongue, making her gasp. "Let me watch you sort it out."
She pushed against his chest and for a minute he thought he'd pushed her too hard, but when he saw her bite her lip and her fingers trail down her stomach, to where he'd been busy burying his tongue in just moments ago, he leaned back and moaned.
She was still flushed—and he wondered if it was from their escapades or from embarrassment, maybe a bit of both—as she let her fingers part her labia, and then flick against her hardened bundle of nerves. He couldn't tear his eyes from the sight, and there could be a fire happening outside but wouldn't care, the fire down below was far greater.
She moaned when her finger slipped inside her hot core, one and then two, and then she's thrusting in and out, as hard and as fast as he had, moaning and gasping as she pleasured herself. He only lasted about a minute before he was moving to kneel before her again and sucked against her clit while she moved her fingers in and out of herself. When he sucked particularly hard, and she thrust her curled fingers inside, no doubt hitting the right spot, she came, and he lapped her up the best of his abilities, stopping only when she dislodged her fingers from herself and used that hand to push his head away.
He wouldn't let her think twice about what she'd done because it was beautiful and sexy and hot, and he almost came while watching her, and really, there was nothing to be ashamed of. She was a woman, with needs, a sexual, sensual being, and what she just did…that was a gift for him.
He stood up and kissed her mouth, not giving her time to think or speak.
"That was beautiful, you're beautiful, and sexy, and hot, and a goddess," he murmured against her lips, making her chuckle and shake her head.
"I feel quite like a porn star," she admitted softly, and he grinned, murmuring that she was the most beautiful one if she ever was, and she needed not worry because she was his, and he vowed that only he would be able to see that, or her, for that matter. "But what about you?" she asked then, when his raging hard on poked against her thigh.
"What about me?" he asked, not wanting her to be overwhelmed, knowing that what she'd just done was new and overwhelming for her. It was for him, too.
She didn't answer, only wrapped her legs around his waist, and directed him to the stall where their shower was still running. He watched as the spray hit her skin, sliding slowly and enticingly against her, and god, she couldn't look more beautiful if she tried.
She leaned down to whisper in his ear, "What about you fucking me?" she asked seductively, and he growled, pushing her against the tiled wall of her bathroom, before he slipped inside her without another word and started pumping. God, she was tight. "Mhmm, yes, Robert, just like that."
The walls of her sex clenched around his hardness and he moaned, pushing into her, until he was buried to the hilt and her legs clamp tighter around his waist. He didn't give her any more time, he just pumped into her, moving against her and slamming her against the wall at every thrust. If she was hurt, she didn't seem to mind, and if he was hurting her, he was half delirious at this point.
He'd apologize later.
"Robert, I'm so close," she murmured, and he braced herself even higher, determined to make her cum again. "Fuck me, yes, like that, yes, god, fu-mhmm, god, yes."
He pressed his fingers down her clit, and thrust deeper into her, making her cum hard against him, screaming his name. It took him a few more thrusts, but then he's coming along with her, her name falling from her lips.
He grinned at her when he'd caught his breath, his softening penis sliding out of her. "That was the dirtiest shower I ever had," he told her, kissing her softly and making her chuckle.
Later, when they're all dry and Cora had settled into bed, off into the land of dreams while cuddled onto his side, he placed a kiss on her forehead and then slipped out from bed. He padded to the kitchen quietly, planning to get a drink and then settle back down to bed. After such vigorous fucking, he'd felt too keyed up to sleep.
He thought everyone had gone to sleep, it was far too late, and had been surprised to find Isidore in the kitchen, nursing a glass of scotch. Robert almost backed away, remembering Cora's words from earlier, and not wanting to get on this case right at this moment, or ever for that matter. No matter how low Isidore's opinion of him might be, he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of proving him right.
Sucking in a deep breath, he braved through the kitchen and decided that he'd get his drink and go back to the room he shared with Cora.
It was a silent, tensed moment when he stepped through the light, and Isidore lifted his head and met his eyes. It was even more tensed when Robert poured himself a drink, not saying a word. The sound of liquid sloshing was the only sound heard, and it was deafening.
"I love my daughter," Isidore finally said, his voice not any louder had it been a whisper, but he was stern and Robert knew instinctively that he was about to get an earful. "She's my little girl, my only little girl."
Of course, Robert knew that. He wasn't trying to steal Cora away, why couldn't Isidore see that? Yes it was true that he wanted Cora to stay in England and would not be ashamed to go to any lengths to keep her there, but he would never make her stay away from her parents, if that wasn't what she wanted herself.
He remained quiet and waited for Isidore to speak again.
"I don't ever want to see her hurt, because that would just kill me," Isidore continued. "It's a parent's curse, I guess."
Robert sighed and put the glass down on the counter. "I know I'm not the perfect man, and I don't ever want to claim that I would never hurt her, because that won't be true." Isidore raised an eyebrow. "We hurt the people we love. That's a fact, but I can promise you that I would never willingly do anything to hurt her. I would never want to hurt her and will do my best not to, intentionally or unintentionally," Robert turned pleading. "I don't want to steal her away from you. I just…" he paused, breathed in deeply. "I just want to get the chance to be able to love her, because I do. She doesn't know yet, and I haven't had the courage to tell her but I do. And I want to have the chance to let her feel that, to give her all of me and all that I can to keep her happy."
Isidore sighed then and took a large gulp of his drink before putting the glass down on the table. He turned and looked at Robert. "You do make her happy," Isidore admitted, and Robert breathed a sigh of relief, and happiness too. It was sort of different when other people point it out. Isidore's eyes turned murderous for one second. "But if you ever make her cry, I will personally see to it that you get torn apart by wild dogs."
Robert gulped and nodded, not entirely sure if Isidore was serious.
That, however, was a theory he was not willing to test.
…
There had been a change between her father and her boyfriend. It was subtle, but it was there, and Cora wondered what had transpired between the two of them. She had asked Robert but he had refused to tell her, only saying that it was between him and her father. She'd huffed but hadn't gotten her way so she just dropped it.
But it never left her mind, not even days later when they'd brought her parents over to the airport, on their way to Paris, this time. She had tried asking her father when she hugged and kissed him goodbye, but he'd only smirked at her, knowing that it was driving her insane.
She'd hugged her mother goodbye too, and watched her father and Robert nod at each other and shake each other's hands. It was just a bit disconcerting.
"Cheer up," Robert had said on their way to Rosamund's New Year's party, a day after, and he had grinned at her, making her huff and roll her eyes. "I just assured your father that what we have is forever, okay?"
Her heart fluttered and she turned to look at him, but he was looking straight ahead, hands on the wheel, but unable still to stifle his smile. She smiled, too, and held his hand in hers, wanting nothing more than to just fling herself at him but knowing she couldn't at the risk of an accident.
God she loved this man.
And though neither of them said it yet, she knew he felt the same.
It was that and his actions that made her heart full. He'd held her hand all throughout the party, introducing her to some of their friends, and reintroducing her to the friends and family she'd already met at the party at the Abbey. She felt herself floating all through the night, felt herself soar when he took her in his arms and held her close while they swayed to Can't help falling in love, and having him whisper in her ear how it reminded him of the their first date.
When the clock struck midnight, and the fireworks exploded overhead, he pulled her close and kissed her, kissed her with increasing pressure until she surrendered to him the same way she surrendered her heart to him.
"Happy New Year, darling," he murmured against her lips, and she smiled, hugging him closer.
"Happy new year," she said back. She breathed him in, committing this moment to memory. "Here's to another year of you and me."
He responded by nuzzling their noses together and sighing softly as their foreheads pressed together.
She looked up into his eyes and melted. She couldn't wait anymore. She half dragged him out of Rosamund's house and into her own, but fortunately, he seemed to not need any more convincing other than a smouldering look.
They barely made it inside her apartment, that night, when he'd pressed against her behind, letting her feel how hard and hot she made him feel, and she had to breathe and pause in her task of opening the door, her brain short circuiting. She pushed back against him, grinding against his rock hard shaft. His mouth seemed permanently latched on her neck, and his hands gravitated towards her breasts, fingers brushing against her nipples even through layers of clothing. She'd specifically worn this tight little blue dress for the occasion—so he could easily slip her out of it, or ruck it up her hips if needed be. Dirty she knew, but it was the truth. And given how they seemed to not be able to keep their hands off of each other, he was just making their lives all the simpler.
"Baby, you need to let me open the door first," she murmured as she pushed the key onto the hole after about fifty failed attempts. She felt Robert's fingers trail to the hem of her dress and she shuddered, awaiting the moment he'd slip his fingers to her core.
Hopefully, not here in the hallway.
She turned the knob and pushed the door open. It didn't even take Robert five seconds before he was pushing her against the door, hands roaming all over her body and slithering up and skimming through her tights. He pulled it down in one swift motion and she kicked it off her ankles, before she lifted her legs and wrapped it around his waist. His mouth was hot and insistent on hers, devouring every square inch, leaving no crevice or cavern unexplored. She couldn't help the moan that ripped from her throat when his fingers slipped through her thin scrap of panties, and he stroked down the length of her sex.
Her hips bucked to his hand and her head fell against the door with a loud thud. This was not the most comfortable position but god almighty, it's getting her off. And based on the sounds her boyfriend was making, it was getting him off too.
"Robert," she panted when he pulled his mouth away so he could work on her neck. He trailed kisses down her jaw and her neck, before he was pulling her coat off her body and throwing haphazardly behind him. She didn't even care where it landed. "God, baby, fuck me, please."
She wasn't really above herself with begging if it was for an orgasm. And how desperate did that make her? Not that it really matters.
Robert didn't say anything had only grunted and growled, before he was pulling the front of her dress down so he could suck on her nipples. It felt so good when he did, and she shoved her fingers through his hair, tugging when he sucked too hard and the pressure that shot through her was too intense. She was so wet now, her wetness coating the fingers that he still slid up and down her sex. Moving up a bit higher on his hips, she gave him a bruising hot kiss, plunging her tongue in and thrusting in and out, mimicking exactly what she wanted him to do to her nether lips.
He pulled away just as she started to unbuckle his belt and drop his pants down his hips.
"I had a hard time deciding if I wanted to fuck you in this dress or out of it," he growled against her skin, and she felt herself flush.
She felt dirty and carnal and hot and sexual, and it all felt good. She tore at his shirt, popping buttons and pushed it down his shoulders as he walked backwards. His calf hit the arm of the couch and he stopped, pushing her down and off his hips. She was almost disappointed with the loss of his warmth, but he pulled her towards the back of the couch and she got what he had wanted immediately.
He bent her over the arm so her upper torso rested against the couch, and her behind was presented firmly to him. His hand stole down to caress a cheek, before a resounding slap echoed through the room and she felt a stinging on her skin that made her look back at him with a raised eyebrow. He only threw her a roguish grin before he was smoothing a palm over her skin and then opening her gently. He slipped inside her with ease, she was so goddamn wet and wanting her pussy was dilating and pulsating, before he was pumping inside her in a vigorous pace. She braced herself on her elbow and sighed, moaning out when the tip of his cock bumped against her g-spot.
"Robert, fuck, god, damn, yes, fu-," she trailed off as she wailed and babbled while he pumped behind her.
"Not gonna last long," he murmured as he nailed his hips against her, driving his cock harder and faster into her, making her throw her head back and thrust her hips against him further.
He was fucking her, fucking her so hard she feared her legs might give out, but then the pleasure that builds low in her belly has her giving zero fucks at all. She moved in rhythm with Robert, and her sounds of pleasure are uncontained. She could hear him grunting behind her, could hear the healthy sound of skin slapping skin.
She was coated with a fine sheen of sweat and she was out of breath, but nothing really mattered right now. She felt one of his hands slip down to fondle her clit and the other to her breasts, and that was when she felt it, the start of an intense orgasm. She felt every nerve ending coming alive, felt her toes and fingers tingling. He hammered behind her as her spine straightens and walls clench. The moan that escaped her was not something she recognized as her climax tore through her.
"Robert," she screamed, the pain the ripped through her throat a welcomed pain. She shuddered in his arms, and he slowed down a little, but she knew then that he was close so she bucked against him, and he seemed to get the nonverbal command because he was pumping in and out of her again in a hurried pace, making her shake and tremble because she can feel another one coming. She clenched her fist as her walls clenched and unclenched around him, milking him and bringing him to an orgasm right around the time she also came, his name falling from her lips in another scream.
She was panting by the time she collapsed, face first onto her couch, him following behind her, collapsing against her back.
She liked it, liked the pressure and she stayed there for a minute, enjoying the way he peppered kisses down her sweat-soaked back.
She turned over when he let up and laid fully onto the couch, pulling him with her.
She smiled and nuzzled their noses together and breathed deeply. He was still panting as he rested against her, smiling up at her. She kissed his forehead then, incredibly grateful to have him there, right there with her.
It was a happy new year, indeed.
A/N: A couple more author's note before I forget.
First, my Violet here takes a little bit after the Violet from the show, but not so much. I wanted her to be the Violet we know somehow but not as stuck up as her, in a way giving her a bit of a new character. If you don't like that, please don't sue me. It's AU.
Second, I realize that my smut scenes can get a bit too raunchy. I put in the rating that it's M, it goes without saying, but I do understand that it could get a bit explicit. I prefer it this way, hence the way I write it, but I want to know what you all think. I'm not opposed to toning it down if anyone feels disturbed or harassed about how Cobert seem to do it here or if anyone feels like it's too trashy or vulgar or explicit. Let me know. Message me, leave it in the comments!
Lastly, after much deliberation, I am officially going on hiatus. Not just here but on all of my stories. I'll be working on some of my tumblr prompts (I wonder if I should post my other drabbles here too, is anyone interested?) or will try anyway, but I won't be posting anything mc for an indefinite period of time. I don't really have any other explanation other than writing has consumed me so much for the past few months and I need a breather. I'm exhausted. I need to focus on things like finding a job and all that horrible adult stuff that I wish I could postpone for the sake of fanfics, but alas I cannot. Having said that, it doesn't mean I'm not writing. I'm always writing and I AM coming back, I'm just not cramming my brain trying to work up an update for everyone every month or week or day. It will come in its own time. I'm sorry to disappoint (Knowing me, I only am in hiatus for a month at most, so don't leave me just yet, just be patient).
Thank you, beautiful sailors for your support. Until then.
Oh and let me know whatcha think, hm?