Pietro didn't say much in the morning, the awkwardness of what had occurred the night before laying heavy in the air. They both seemed content to pretend it never happened, neither of them bringing it up the whole way home.
She walked in the doors of Wernigerode, her home, and felt instant relief. Her thoughts turned immediately to Max, hoping that he wasn't worried, wondering what his reaction had been when he discovered her gone.
She felt a chill run down her spine as she realized she was being watched, and wondered….could it be him?
She retired to her room to put away her things, and that is when she remembered the letters from the post office.
The letter from Kurt and Mr Creed were forgotten for the moment, and instead her attention was focused on the one addressed to A. Eisenhardt.
Technically, that is my name now. Perhaps ah should open it.

She opened the letter, and it was dated a few months ago, addressed to an Adrienne.
That's….not right. Who's Adrienne?
She kept reading, and the letter spoke of concern for Adrienne's well-being, asking if she was well, as no one had heard from her.
This is very strange.
The letter was signed 'Your Loving Sister, Emma Frost'.
Frost….could Adrienne be A.F.? Could it be her trunk ah saw in the lower level?
She heard a noise, and her first thought, as she turned around to investigate the source, was that it might be Max.
He normally doesn't show himself in daylight…
The noise had come from the other side of her wall, in the room next to hers. She exited her bedroom, planning to see what it was.
She entered the room, and found an abandoned suite of sorts, one that hadn't been used in years it appeared. It was a large room, similar to the room she now occupied, but beneath the dust she could see photographs and trinkets that had to be as old as she was.
The source of the noise, a photograph that had fallen off the wall, lay face-down on the floor, and as she bent to pick it up, she realized it was a painting of Magda.
Was this Max's room?
There was a pair of reading glasses next to the bed, and upon closer inspection, she saw a dusty copy of something written in German, something she couldn't quite make out.
She felt a thrill run down her spine as she realized there was someone in the room with her, and she had no doubt who it was.
He knew she was back.
She smiled. "Ah know you're there….ah didn't mean to disturb you."
She felt her hair being pushed back off her shoulder, and the lightest pressure against her neck, which made her shudder slightly.
"Ah missed you…." She whispered.
"Where did you go?" She heard the far-off sound of his voice, his deep tone tinged in worry.
"Pietro….he took me into town….the weather took a turn and we had to stay the night."
There was silence for a beat. "And did my son behave himself?"
What was the best way to answer that? The truth? Surely, he would figure it out. "He….he behaved as a husband should."
She could feel his reaction. A strong shiver ran down her spine. She felt cold.
"Did he please you?"
"...no." She spoke in an almost whisper.
"Why not?"
"Ah….ah didn't….ah didn't want him."
"Tell me what you want, Anna Marie…"
Her next words came out in a whisper. "Ah want you, Max…"
She felt his fingers under her chin, and when he turned her head to the side, she could see him standing behind her, the feeling of his chest against her back. Those blue eyes, dark with his desire for her, made her shiver as he looked at her, drawing closer to her.
When he kissed her, she could feel his arm around her waist, keeping her close, not wanting to let her go. Her fingers moved upward, tangling in the apparition of his long white hair, and she was kissing him like her life truly depended on it.
She felt him lifting her up into his arms and carrying her towards the bed, not caring that it was the middle of the day, not caring about Pietro or Wanda finding her. She heard the click of the bedroom door locking, and knew they would not be disturbed.
The spectral form of his body covered hers, and the pressure of his lips on hers was so much better than the feeling of her husband's lips, her hands being pinned gently above her head, and his kisses leaving a path down her neck, the buttons of her dress being undone, one by one.
She kept her eyes open this time, watching as he took great care in undressing her, and using his lips to worship every part of her body, from her shoulders and collarbone, and moving down. His hands and mouth took their time on her ample breasts, and the sounds she made as he touched her there gave him every indication that it aroused her to be touched in such a way.
Lower and lower he went, along her ribcage and her stomach, down to the soft curls between her thighs.
He parted her legs, the sensation of his hands on her thighs as he kept them apart.
She felt a strange pressure at her core, and she made a surprised noise, but it quickly turned to one of pleasure, realizing it was his tongue lapping at her center.
"My sweet Anna Marie….you are mine…." His voice growled, a possessive quality to it.
She felt increased pressure on her core, no doubt using his fingers and tongue at the same time, and it sent her careening over the edge, crying out for him.
Before she could fully come back down from the orgasm, he was already kissing his way all along her thighs and up her body again, until he reached her lips once more, the kiss languid and slow, her hands touching him in every way she could.
He rolled them both so that he was on his back, with her straddling him, his hands unable to stop touching her voluptuous figure.
She felt that familiar pressure against her center, and she let out a gasp, her eyes flying open.
"Take what you need from me, schatzi…." He commanded softly.
She moved her hips out of instinct, and that sensation she had felt that first night with him was back, except now she was in this new position, in full control of what was happening. Her soft little noises were so beautiful, and he wanted more of them.
He gently guided her to sit upright, allowing herself to slowly sink down on top of him, her eyes widening and her back arching as she adjusted to the new sensation, moving against the fullness that he was providing. Her hair fell in curls along her back and over her shoulders, and Max could have sworn she was bewitching him, despite being a long dead spirit.
"You're mine, schatzi." He proclaimed, holding her by the hips as she took control on top of him. "No one else can have you but me…"
"Yes…" She uttered breathlessly, her eyes dark with need as she chased her pleasure.
"Say it."
"Ah belong to you….only you…" She uttered, her body bouncing up and down on top of him in the most sinfully beautiful way.
He cared not that she was his son's wife. His son had wasted every opportunity presented. This woman who was in his bed, taking pleasure from him, he would not allow anyone else to have.
"Take your pleasure from me, Anna Marie. Let it erase the disappointment of the man who is your husband in name only…." He encouraged, watching as the sunlight made her skin glow, the way she reacted to his words.
"Max…" She moaned his name, and he could listen to her say his name like that for eternity.
"Come for me, schatzi…. I want to be the only witness to your rapture…."
She felt an added pressure to her core, and Max watched as her body tensed, arching on top of him as her head fell back, her cries of release the most beautiful sound.
She barely registered the increased pressure at her hips, and the twitching inside her, but his face….oh, that was a sight. The sight and feeling of her orgasm had driven him to his own, and she slowly slid down to lay her head on the spectral outline of his chest. She was breathing hard, her mind a blissful haze.
She felt her hair being brushed back from her shoulder and away from her face, and she slowly lifted her head, the sight of affection and warmth in those slate blue eyes making her heart soar.
When she kissed him this time, it was gentle, yet there were complex emotions here, far beyond need or lust.
He rolled her halfway, kissing her like she was the most precious treasure.
"I could spend eternity with you…just like this…" He confessed softly.
The reality of their predicament started to seep in to the moment, but she wanted to hold onto the ecstasy and bliss a little bit longer, for as long as possible.
"How long do you think we have until they start lookin' for me?" She asked softly.
"Not nearly long enough." His response was tinged with sadness at the idea of letting her leave.
She touched the outline of his face with her hand, a gentle gesture.
"Then we will make it last….until tonight."