"Keep those trousers clean if you go outside, and be on your best behavior for Granny," reminded Mother as she fiddled with the top button of Walt's coat.
"I will," the boy solemnly swore, and received a sweet kiss for his efforts.
"Please be nice to your brother," she then begged of the older sibling, whose agreement was a bit more sullen: having decided recently that he had surpassed the reasonable age for kisses, he was given an embarrassingly fond look and a pat on the cheek instead.
"We'll be expecting you by suppertime," said Gran as Father plopped Walt next to Jem in the buggy with a groan. "Six o'clock at the latest."
"Alright, Ma," intoned Father with a mock huff that rivalled Jem's. "Drive safely."
"I always drive safely when the babes are with me," sniffed Gran.
"We're not babes!" protested Jem, earning stern looks from both his parents.
"But you're my babes, darling. All set? Off we go!" announced Gran with a clack of the reins. Walt's high-pitched chatter started even before the horse could break into a brisk walk. Jem tried to ignore the pit expanding in his stomach: big boys, such as himself, did not make a fuss when saying goodbye to their parents.
As the buggy neared the bend, his resolve broke, and he turned around at the last minute to reach out. His father waved back, and his mother blew him a kiss, and the lump in his throat eased. Jem turned back and sighed: a weekend at the Grandparents' house might be fun, after all.
They stood side by side, watching until the buggy disappeared. A telltale sniff made Gilbert rope an arm around Anne's shoulders. "He'll be fine."
"I know." She bravely held in her tears and smiled. Her boy was showing less signs of separation anxiety everyday, but staying away overnight was still difficult. He was in good hands, though, and Anne knew he would be fine by the time they'd reached the Blythes' house.
She turned to find Gilbert staring intently at her, his hazel eyes boring into hers. Intent was etched plainly on his face, and her breathing shallowed, quickening in anticipation. They held each other's gaze a beat longer, then raced up the porch. Anne nearly unhinged the front door in her eagerness to get inside, and was promptly pinned against the wall. Gilbert grabbed her by the upper arms and stole her air in a breathtaking kiss. She threw her arms around his neck, holding on to him as she raised her thigh between his legs, and-
The door swung open, and Walter's little form scuttled in. "Mama? Papa?" his soprano voice carried on past them, heading straight for the staircase.
Gilbert pushed off her and readjusted his trousers hastily, trying to catch his breath quietly while Anne shook out her skirts and fixed her hair at lightening speed.
"Walter, is everything alright?" she called out in an admirably casual voice. Gilbert cleared his throat, not trusting himself to speak quite yet.
The little footsteps changed directions, and the little boy to whom they belonged joined his parents in the foyer. "I forgot Mr. Moose!" he explained with wide, innocent eyes.
"Well then, let's find him, shall we?"
Anne was either unaffected by the interruption, or a very good actress, thought Gilbert as he suppressed a groan. He followed the search party around the house, cursing the day he'd purchased the blasted stuffed animal with an annoying penchant for getting stained, ripped and lost.
"Found it!" cried Walter's victoriously, not a moment too soon. He said his goodbyes for the second time before running out of the house. Gilbert stood up from behind the armchair and looked across the sitting room at Anne, who was just visible from where she stood on the landing.
They made eye contact for two beats before scrambling to action. "Doors!" called Anne, rushing to shut the one Walter had left open in his wake.
"Doors," confirmed Gilbert, having at last recovered his speech faculties as he ran to the backdoor, and bolted it with more force than necessary. All they needed was for Marilla to return early from her errands in Carmody. With that troubling image in mind, he yanked the curtains over the windows, filtering the Green Gables kitchen light in colored shadows. When Anne ran in to join him, he seized her by the waist and sat her down on the edge of the countertop.
A dip of her head was all it took to bring her lips to his. He reached blindly to extract the pin that held her hair in a knot, thus freeing the soft strands. Their kiss deepened as his fingers plunged through the silken mass. His touch elicited a lustful moan which poured from Anne's mouth into his own, sending thrills in turn down his spine.
Unwilling to break the kiss, Gilbert searched blindly again, this time for her skirts. Endless mounds of fabric rustled through his hands until he found the hems at last, and lifted them to expose her stockings, grateful that she had foregone her petticoats today. He rested a hand on her knee and pushed on slowly, upwards...
Her hands pushed at his shoulders, and she tore her mouth from his. "Darling, please-"
"You liked it yesterday, didn't you?" he heaved. "This will be better. I can be more precise with my hand, and more gentle than with my leg."
Pearly teeth caught her pink lip. Still breathing hard, Gilbert took her hand and placed it around his wrist. "You're in control," he told her. "You can stop this anytime you want."
Her grayish green orbs held his with an incinerating sparkle, and she smiled hesitantly. "Alright."
Gilbert resumed the trek up her covered thigh, stopping when he felt the slit in her drawers. Hardly able to believe his luck, he brushed the red curls that never saw the light of day, the final obstacle. Palm facing upwards, with her fingers still braceleted around his wrist, he grazed her with the tip of his index.
The contact made her gasp sharply. Gilbert's head jerked up to search for any sign of discomfort on her face, but he found none. She offered him a small smile instead, and let her thighs fall open further. He touched her again, applying the slightest bit of pressure as he moved his finger in small, concentric motions.
The world was a blur before Anne, but the pleasure was sharp, flirting on the border of pain: she'd never known anything like it. She saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing but the delicious sensations, and the promise of bliss building up within her.
Anne's grip on Gilbert threatened to dislocate his wrist, but he worked through the pain, drinking in her enjoyment. He watched, enraptured, as she panted sensuously through parted lips, her eyes on him but unfocused, flames of orange framing her face. He quickened his movements and increased the pressure, his own hips twitching reflexively.
A sheen of sweat broke out at her brow: Anne felt feverish. The need in her was so acute, it hurt: her hips rocked, leaning into his touch, the desire for more consuming her. The pad of his finger was burning her, and the fire caught in her core, spreading up to her stomach, her chest, her heart.
Anne fell, blinded by the heat that blazed all around her. She soared, floating somewhere far away: a place that was too hot for paradise, and too white for the underworld.
When she returned to her own body, back to Earth, it was to find Gilbert staring at her with shining eyes and a flush on his cheeks. He appeared to be just as amazed as she was.
"Gil," she called on a breathless sigh, reaching to caress his face. Despite his obvious arousal, he offered her an easy smile as her fingers continued through his dark brown curls.
"You enjoyed that," he stated smugly.
She shook her head. "'Enjoy' doesn't come close. Gil, it was... what you did..."
His smile morphed into a wolfish grin. "Put you at a loss for words, haven't I?"
She pushed him away. "You're awfully pleased with yourself," she said primly, rearranging her skirts over her legs.
"How could I not be? I've turned your brilliant mind to jelly, admit it."
"I... I..." Anne sighed, unable to formulate a clever comeback. "Fine. You've made me forget myself. Happy?"
"Very."
"Be a gentleman, then, and help me down." Gilbert obliged, lifting her off the counter and setting her down. Her stomach brushed the hardness in his trousers, and she looked up at him.
"Shall I...?" she ventured, hooking her fingers lightly on his waistband. Gilbert saw the discreet gulp she tried to hide, and found the courage to deny her offer.
"Maybe later," he answered, his breezy tone betraying no frustration. "Right now, it's time to take a bath."
"A bath?" she echoed, puzzled. "Do I smell bad?"
"You smell divine," he assured her in a suggestive tone that left her with no doubt.
"Why on Earth would we bathe so early? You mentioned going out for a walk later, won't we just get filthy all over again?"
His hazel eyes twinkled with mischief. "I didn't say the goal of the bath was to get clean."
Thank you so much for your reviews! I'm splitting up Thursday into two parts, in an attempt to keep the chapters at a humane size. Shout out to the recurring guest: welcome to fanfiction, and thank you for your kind encouragement! I'm really feeling the love here :D