Chapter 35

Unexpected. Yes. Unexpected was exactly what it was. John reached for his trousers. He hadn't looked at Anna. He wanted to maintain some small grasp on what was left of his dignity. That had never happened before, and he had no indication that it might be an issue. Unexpected and humiliating. It had been years since he'd actually been with a woman, but he didn't think lack of practice was the issue.

John felt slightly better with his trousers on. It was marginally less humiliating. Anna. He couldn't look at her. John took a deep breath and leaned forward, taking his head in his hands. Anna. What had they almost done? What had he almost done? He couldn't bear to look at her. He had intended to redirect her attentions, but the feeling of her warm, smooth thighs around him had redirected his thoughts until it no longer mattered.

Eventually he would have to look at her. She hadn't spoken since. John was a little surprised she was still there. Most women would be revolted, angry, to see, to feel the strength turn to limp weakness. John took another breath. The disappointment. The humiliation. But it had to be. They had needed to stop long before that happened. A wind picked up and blew the door shut. Total darkness. Anna reached for his hand.

They had needed to stop. John hadn't wanted to stop, but he knew it was up to him. Anna, while she usually took control of their activities, never took control of the ending. Ending without resolution. He needed to address that. He knew she knew, she understood, how devastating it would turn if they hadn't stopped, but talking about it, talking about how it happened, was something else entirely. He thought he had better control. He had been in control. His mind and his body had been in deep conflict and his mind won. Thankfully. Embarrassingly. Anna seemed to be trembling. It was safe to look at her in the dark.

John looked up and cleared his throat. "You're allowed to be disappointed."

She was shaking. Her voice was shaking. John didn't think she was crying, exactly. "Oh John, I'm not disappointed. I'm relieved."

And she was in his arms. As she buried her face into his neck, John pulled her tight. She was shaking. She was sobbing. He had frightened her. She jumped at a sudden clap of thunder. John pulled her tighter, and kissed the top of her head. Anna burrowed into him. They pitched backwards, onto the blanket. Anna was calming. John ran his hands over her back.

"This blanket was a good idea." He was whispering. He couldn't think what else to say. "It's very soft." He felt Anna smile. Her eyes were clenched shut, but she was loosening her hold on him. John kept an arm around her, the other under their heads. Anna didn't seem inclined to talk, and John didn't know where to start. The storm outside was fierce.

Anna pulled her arms close to her, balling her fists between them. She opened her eyes. John's heart fell to see how red they had become in such a short time. He stroked her cheek. Gently. She took a deep breath and smiled. It started slowly and weakly, but grew into the large and honest smile John knew and loved. John tried to match it. Anna covered his hand with hers.

"Anna, I'm sorry." A whisper seemed too loud. She closed her eyes and swallowed. "That wasn't want I meant to do." He'd meant all along to explore the different applications of hands and mouths, it just got away from him. "I was going to stop." He thought. "I wasn't going to stop like that." Under his control, with resolution. "I'm sorry I scared you." That was the painful part. He had frightened her. He hadn't meant to. He'd gotten carried away by his passions, by her passions. There was a point when he wasn't entirely sure he was going to stop.

Anna opened her eyes. She was so pale. "No, I'm sorry." She unclenched her fists, letting her hands rest against John's chest. "You didn't scare me." More thunder. "I scared me."

John pulled her closer. Anna had gotten carried away and he had been carried with her. He had acted like he might not stop. The roof was leaking, but not near them. John felt unusually cold. Anna's voice was still shaking. "You usually stop before it might become…difficult." She swallowed. She took her time. "And I don't have to worry about stopping." John wasn't convinced he wasn't the cause of her fear.

"But we've never been quite that close before." Unbearably close. The feeling of her softness, her warmth, wrapped around him, moving against him. His hands, his mouth on her. Hers on him. Not getting her out of her petticoat added a certain wanton hedonism.

Anna snuggled closer to his chest. "But you did stop. You always stop me. I knew I wasn't going to." She trailed a hand down his chest. "But you always stop, and I trust you." John felt her swallow. "I shouldn't have been scared."

He had to tell her. She shouldn't trust him. "I wasn't sure I was going to stop until I did."

"But you did."

He smiled. "Yes, but that wasn't how I wanted to stop." A wind gust blew the door open. John hoped it wouldn't rain inside. "Anna, I've never had such a hard time turning aside. I've never wanted anyone more."

Anna's chin was resting on his shoulder. It should have been uncomfortable. "I know. But if you hadn't stopped it would have been awful."

"It would have been wonderful." John was speaking into her ear.

"It would. But the consequences…." Her eyes closed again. She took a shuddery breath. "Oh John, we'd both be ruined." John pressed his hand into her back. "It would be so good we wouldn't be able to stop and because of how we live here we'd have to sneak and hide and find places and I don't want to sneak or lie and we'd be so ashamed and we're better than that and then I'd get pregnant and then ….And then…."

"And then we'd be without options, without a home, a future, and we'd grow to resent each other, not to mention the poor baby? That our love would turn into something ugly?" That was a frightening thought.

Anna didn't answer. Her large eyes were wet. She fit against him like a missing piece. "That's what made me to stop." He smoothed a loose bit of hair behind her ear. "And you're right; considering that most things only improve with practice, once we got started stopping would be impossible." Her smile quivered. "I hate that we have to stop, but I hate the idea of the consequences even more."

Neither spoke. The storm echoed through their silence as they stared at each other. This was how it should be. Anna's head next to his. Sharing the same thoughts. Saying much in saying nothing at all.

"I was afraid…." They both smiled, remembering last summer. "I was afraid that I'd disappointed you, or…or frightened you…or you thought I was a failure." John barely heard his own voice.

"Oh John. No." Anna's eyes widened. Compassion. Love. Trust. "No, John, please don't think that. We had to stop." She wrapped an arm around his back, pulling him to her. "We may not have wanted to do, but we had to, and luckily some part of you made that decision."

Unbidden, Vera sprang to mind. She would have berated him. Withheld until he proved himself. She had indicated he was less than a man the time his leg gave out when he was back from Africa. Had something like this ever happened with her, John wasn't sure he could have recovered. Vera wanted power, she wanted to control him. Everything had been such a struggle. Vera would manipulate and offer and perform and withhold until she had what she wanted. John never knew what she wanted. Anna loved him. She wanted his pleasure, his happiness. For better or worse. She was kissing him. Everything was natural. She was pressing into him again. He could have rolled so she was on top, but he so loved the feeling of their clasped hands over their heads, their shared space on the blanket, her head tucked just under his arm. She was kissing him. The rain was slackening. She felt so good. His leg was cramping.

"Anna…" He hated to stop her. Her free hand was against his chest. Her mouth was at his neck. "Anna…we need to move." John loved the feel of the curve of her waist. So gentle. His leg was starting to seize. "Anna…my leg…if I could just…" He pulled away, slightly, trying to rearrange himself. Stopping was so difficult.

John thought he detected a flash of irritation on her face before it turned to concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize…" A bird flew in the open door.

John rolled onto his back and stroked her cheek. Stopping twice in one night. "You're alright, it isn't you. I just can't stay in one position for too long, especially in the damp." He bent the bad leg, stretching his arms over his head to flex his lower back. It felt so good as his spine realigned and the tension left his hip. He groaned. Anna was starring. John lowered his left arm to pull her back to his side. She nestled against him with her head on his shoulder. His hand rested in the curve of her back. She smelled like roses and sweat and lust. The air was fresh with rain. Her arm draped across his chest. John wondered, if after everything, she was falling asleep. There could be no more perfect sensation than that of her small and warm body, trusting and secure, against his, asleep in his arms. John ran his fingers over the skin just above her camisole.

Embarrassing as it had been, John was relieved by what had happened. Progressing that way wasn't what either of them wanted. He was unsettled by his loss of control. He would need to address this with Anna. Taking care of things on his own, especially knowing she had the same desires, was depressing. Lonely. He still wasn't entirely sure how it had all happened. He was sure. He had allowed himself to lose control. He was tired of restraint, and Anna's own loss of control spurred his. He closed his eyes and let a gentle breeze waft over him. He was grateful something in some part of his mind ended things. He could not be the cause of harm to Anna.

The rain started again. Gentle this time, no thunder. John wondered what time it was. So long as they were back to their rooms before dawn. Anna said she had scared herself; what about the other times when John thought he saw a glimmer of fear? Maybe she really was concerned he'd take advantage of her, especially knowing how strong her desires were. It wouldn't be difficult, if John's thoughts ever went in that dark and unseemly direction, to force her. It didn't make sense. Her intentions tonight seemed muddled, especially the lack of underthings and her removal of his trousers. That discovery had encouraged him. The memory of it sent a shudder down his back. A good shudder. He made a low sound and pressed her close. That discovery had suggested so many intriguing possibilities.

She stirred against him. "I like how your chest vibrates when you do that." She wasn't asleep. "It feels so good."

"You feel good." John smiled as he buried his face in her hair. He felt her smile. John was so afraid of hurting her, of scaring her. It would have been so easy. So wrong. He was so glad some small part of his brain had stayed engaged. He had scared himself.

"John…sometimes….sometimes I'm afraid I won't let you stop." Silence. "I know that you will, and I…I don't want you to…and…and it is so hard to let you and sometimes I'm afraid that I might try to make you…not stop." The wind was picking up. John could see a tree across the pond swaying.

"It is more and more difficult to stop." A bird shrieked. "Tonight I frightened myself." John could feel Anna's heart beating, slightly faster. "I was thinking there's a building tension we need to address before we put ourselves at greater risk." Where were her underthings?

"Exactly." Her delicate hand was twirling down his chest. "You see, I had an idea." Her hand was going lower. "You've had this look this last week, and I can feel your eyes on me when we're working and I know what you're thinking." John felt his body relaxing. "Sometimes I wonder if the others know it too." Unlikely. "I try not to let it distract me, and usually it doesn't." Her voice was low and tempting. "But sometimes you're all I can think about. How you feel, how you smell, how you taste. Your textures." Her lips were at his ear. Under his ear. At that soft spot behind his ear. "And I think of how much I love you, and how I want you to feel good." Even lower. "How I want to help you feel good."

John felt like he was dissolving just listening to her. She was on top of him again. The hand that wasn't behind his head held her at her waist. Her hands were at his neck, his shoulders, his chest, teasing at his waist again. She just wanted pleasure. His pleasure. Her pleasure would be his pleasure. His would be hers. She seemed to have recovered from their fright. He could feel himself recovering, quickly.

"How do you propose to help?" His voice was rough and breathless. Anna gasped as he pressed against her, trailing both hands down her sides and hitching up her petticoat to her knees, up to her hips. She was pressed between his spread legs. He kissed her neck, glad for the high collar of her work dresses.

"Well…." She raised herself above him. John liked the twinkle in her eye. He could just see the tops of her breasts. They were shiny and firm. "Remember that house party I attended with Lady Mary and Lady Edith last month?" He did. Insipid women, nervous maids, rain, small damp country house. "One of the maids was French, and she and one of the other girls were discussing this novella." John raised an eyebrow. French maids and French novellas. Oh Anna. "Emily didn't understand it, and Annette had to explain a few passages which described what sounded like a very pleasurable and safe… technique." Her hands were playing at his waist. Reaching just under the top of his trousers. "It sounded very…rewarding…and I've been thinking we should try it."

John was relieved. And intrigued. "I must confess, my thoughts were in much the same direction." Again her nimble fingers worked his trousers open. "The technique to which I believe you allude…a sort of intimate variation on the kiss…has much to offer." Anna grinned. She looked more fey than ever. Had it been a year and a day since that other long night, in the other temple, last August? "Was this your original intention for the evening?" Her grin broadened. "Because as fascinated as I am by the idea of you with nothing under that black dress, if that's how you always go about at work I'm done for." John slowly unbuttoned her camisole, watching as her head titled back and her eyes turned to slits as he gently stroked her breast. His trousers were gone; fair was fair, he unhooked the waist of her petticoat. Anna stood to get it out of the way. John sat up to help her remove it and the camisole. She paused before him. The rain had stopped. She seemed to glow in the wet moonlight.

A shadow passed. Anna might not know. She might think it was just like a kiss. She might not know about the end, about his and the mess, about hers and how difficult it might be to achieve, and not through lack of trying. She stepped closer. She was so beautiful and so small. He was woefully out of practice. He hoped Anna wouldn't be disappointed. Some women, or Vera rather, found it demeaning. He didn't want any more unexpected surprises. "Anna…you know…some women find this very enjoyable….but others find it…quite distasteful."

She pushed her hair over her shoulder, and smiled, biting her lip to repress a giggle. She pressed on his chest so he was again lying flat. "I thought you were trying not to think so much?" She was kissing him. She was looming over him. "It is one of your worst qualities." Her hands ran down the length of his body. "How could anything we will both enjoy possibly be distasteful?" She was doing that thing with her tongue and his fingers. She was kissing the line down his torso. Her pert breasts just grazed his skin. Her hands. John didn't know what to do with hands. "Just relax and trust me."

He did. She clasped his hand as she began to tease him with her mouth. In a moment of clarity John knew he'd be in no shape when she was finished with him to reciprocate, and he very much needed to reciprocate. Anna needed him to reciprocate. He motioned to her to turn over. She stopped to kiss him as she rotated her body, allowing John the opportunity to demonstrate his own application of this technique. The sound she made gave John a shiver. It was like his dream. It was better than his dream.