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All created stories have to follow . We do not allow any sexually related material. The Doll Palace will be enforcing this rule and completely blocking access to the accounts that disregard our policy and create sexually oriented stories.
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Hi, my name is Nicky
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 | [16-XX] Forbidden Fruit |
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 4.6 with 10 vote(s)
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| Created: 2009-05-14 10:01:11 |
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A/N: Ignore the doll. TDP homepage refuses to load so now I have to use premade dolls. Lol. I love the epilogue. I love writing in second person.
I shall have to do it more often.
Enjoy.
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[16]
He knocked harshly on the door, demanding through his fist to wood to not be ignored. He repeated the gesture, irritation increasing with each repeated thud of fist to oak, before the door was pulled open and an elderly gentleman eyed him suspiciously.
“May I help you Master Buckley?”
“I want to see Lady Harlow,” he said, his anger barely kept in check. “Now.”
“Young Master, I am––.”
“Oh let him through, Michael,” came a voice dripping with innocence. “I don’t mind and it is obviously fairly important.” She moved forward, er many layers rustling with the movement. “Come, old friend.” Edward fixed her with a glare that read something fairly obscene and insulting before he sidestepped the footman and followed Lady Bethany into the confines of her house. “I think we shall return to the library as this was where I was when you decided to practically hit down my front door.” Her tone was light, almost joking, but Edward was not in the mood for jests.
“What did you say to him?” he demanded, eyeing Lady Beth with harsh eyes. Inwardly Lady Beth was shocked. Edward was not prone to anger, not really, so this display of irritation was shocking. But externally, she smiled.
“Who?”
“Don’t toy with me Beth,” Edward warned darkly. “I’m annoyed enough as it is.” She was still smiling, before his rolled her eyes and sat back into her chair.
“Oh alright then, you got me,” she grinned. “I told your lovely little flavour of the month the truth, that’s all.”
“And what truth would that be?”
“That you are lxst personified and seduce whomever you chose, and as soon as you’re satisfied, you will leave them for the next pretty little thing that catches your eye.” She paused, thoughtfully. “Now, no offence to him, I quite like Nicky, but Lord is he sensitive. I was planning on saying a lot worse, but a few little home truths seemed enough to feed his already rampant doubts about you.”
“Home truths? Those were lies,” Edward spat.
“Were they? What about Annabel?”
“Mistake.”
“Lucinda?”
“A favour.”
“Me?”
Edward snorted, throwing Lady Beth a dirty look. “Please, we both know you practically begged for it. I just didn’t refuse.”
“And why did I want you so badly? Because you are a terrible flirt. In reality, I just saved Nicky from a lot of heartache. Although, I never guessed you would go this far from God. Still angry at him for taking your mother away?”
“Oh please, this has nothing to do with revenge against the Lord,” Edward sneered. “You obviously know me less than you claim to, old friend.” Lady Bethany didn’t miss the mocking stresses on the phrase ‘old friend.’ She grimaced at the tone but continued.
“Then what else it is? Hate towards your father?”
“What do y ––?”
“Boredom?”
“No I ––!”
“Well it can’t be love, that’s ridi––.”
“It is,” Edward said quietly, so quietly, Lady Beth had run through the words again.
“You have to be joking….it’s ungodly!”
Edward turned away from the window, and focused dark eyes on the Lady in front of him. “I know why you did it, Beth. You are jealous, greedy and vain and should I burn in hell for my so-called sins, you shall be burning right beside me. You hate being second best, but you never realised Lady Bethany, that with me you aren’t even second best. You aren’t third best. You are nothing to me. Nothing but a pathetic little child who needs to grow up and get off the high horse you have placed yourself on before something comes along and pushes you off.” Lady Harlow’s eyes were wide, shock splayed all over her face. She hadn’t expected such quiet venom. She had expected a little irritation, after all, Edward had lost his latest, but this raw, dangerous outlet was beyond what she could imagine. But somehow, she couldn’t stop herself. She couldn’t stop her self from provoking him further. She wasn’t going to lose her wealth, her status and her love to some annoying little servant boy.
Edward was moving towards the door by the time she started to speak.
“Whether I’m being petty and childish is not the issue. The issue is that I will tell everyone, and Nicky will be punished. Do you want that on your conscious? Like I said before, all I am asking for is place in your life and your bed. Is that too much to ask?”
Edward frowned. “Yes, considering I want you no where near my bed, thank you. We have been there and we have done that.”
“Fine. You better say your goodbyes to Nicky dearest, you know what will happen…”
Edward sighed and closed the door again and Lady Beth smiled.
“Ready to compromise?”
––
Dinner was a fancy affair. It had been a few evenings since Nicky had demanded that things ended between himself and Edward and those few days had been most uncomfortable and awkward to say the least.
This dinner was no different. He hovered behind Master Edward as he ate, resisting the urge to glance around the long table which was occupied by Master Edward, Lady Isobel and Lord Buckley, as well and Lord and Lady Harlow, and young Lady Bethany who was smiling darkly into her wine. Nicky had glanced up a few times to catch her steady gaze on him. When he looked up the first time, her smile was triumphantly mocking.
Nicky kept his eyes to the floor after that.
The dinner seemed to take forever and Nicky wanted nothing more than to disappear down to the kitchen to eat his own meal before returning to his own room for the evening. The light conversation that filled the room was political and gossiping, snippets of scandalous rumours about fellow nobles that had the guests chuckling and gaping into their meal.
Nicky had just finished pouring Edward some more wince, studiously avoiding his gaze when Lord Buckley stood, smiling, and holding his glass aloft.
“We all know why we are here,” he said, his piggy eyes skimming the figures sitting at the table, “to celebrate the union of our two families through the marriage of my son Edward and your lovely daughter, Lady Bethany. May they have a lifetime of happiness.”
Nicky stiffened, letting his gaze drift towards Lady Bethany, who threw a snide look in his direction, raising her glass slightly, mockingly in his direction before taking a long drink.
“Yes,” she said, her tone loud and charming, the underlying venom Nicky knew was aimed in his direction. “To me and my future husband.”
[17]
He refused to give into the aching feeling that lingered in his chest. He also refused to be in the same room as Edward for too long, lest he spoke words he would later regret. Besides, Lady Beth had taken to keeping the young noble company and Nicky couldn’t stand to see the pair of them together.
So, in a routine reminiscent of the beginning of this whole mess, he opted to be out of Edward’s way as much as possible. But considering his position, it was a lot more troublesome to ignore Edward. He was wondering down the road as he thought, deciding that this was the perfect time to catch up on those little and irritable chores that he had put off due to the weather.
Posting letters from Edward to various friends and distant family members was one of these little jobs, and Nicky was content to take as long as possible. Another was stocking up on Edwards’ favourite bourbon which, since the announcement of the wedding, had been diminishing in rather alarming quantities.
He wandered around the old street, the market square a little less buzzing during the week, but still heaving with housewives as they went about their business, shopping and talking and whatever else women of that age done. Children too poor to attend the school in the next village, or too young ran about the streets as usual, scaring the chickens and spooking the horses. Nicky smiled, he remembered being on the receiving end of an angry traveller, shaking a fist and yelling bloody murder after he had run out thoughtlessly in front of a horse and spooked it terribly. It was just something you done when you were young.
After picking up Edward’s ordered bourbon, Nicky slipped down an alley towards the tailors, knocking on the side door to pick up Edward’s order. Nicky had no idea what he had ordered, nor did he particularly care, just as long as it took the Tailor a long time to find it so he could avoid returning for a little longer.
It was a trait Nicky didn’t like about himself, this habit he had to run away from his problems rather than face them. He was unsure of why he done it, nor was he in the mood for deep soul searching and the revelations it might bring. No, he’d rather wrap himself up in ignorance, thank you very much.
“’Ere ya go, Rodaga,” the tailor said heavily in his strong accent, thrusting a box at him. “Masta Edwards’ orda.” Nicky smiled his thanks, and turned back into the main street, carrying the box under his arm, careful not to let it split or something.
He really didn’t want to return to the manor. He knew from experience that Edward didn’t take kindly to being ignored, and would go to lengths to get Nicky to speak to him. Especially now he was curious about what Lady Beth had said and presumably wanted to explain it or himself. He had been throwing Nicky looks for the last few days, ones that begged for Nicky to stop being so stubborn minded and hear him out.
But Nicky wasn’t ready for explanations. He’d rather hide away in stubborn assumptions for reasons even he couldn’t explain. Perhaps it was because it gave him a proper reason and something to silently hate Edward with. Not that he did hate Edward –– not in the slightest.
He sighed, making his way back up towards the manor, gently juggling his load before opening the door. Nicky glanced around the hall, moving towards the stairs. Soft tendrils of music bled through the upper hall, the gentle vibrations of bow to string and creating beautiful, sombre melodies. Nicky paused, smiling slightly at the noise as it sped up and slowed, jerky and yet still beautiful in all its confusion.
He sighed, shaking his head and setting a more professional expression as he leant on tot eh door and pushed it open. Edward was by the window, as was habitual when he was playing and he didn’t look up when Nicky entered, but the music did slow to a stop.
“I brought what you needed,” Nicky said quietly, setting the bourbon on the side and the box of clothes onto the bed. “Also, I have heard tell from the Lord that…er…Lady Harlow shall be making an appearance for preparations.
“Hmm…” it was a dissatisfied noise. “Are you ready to hear me out yet, or are you still determined on being stubborn?” Edward leant against the window, head tilted and his half smile in place.
Nicky sighed. “I don’t think I want to hear it right now, Master Edward,” he said, stressing the word ‘master’ with a meaningful look. He didn’t want this discussion. Not now, not ever. He wasn’t in the mood for it all.
“Nicky…”
“Master Edward…” They held a gaze before Nicky his place and dropped his gaze, stepped back to leave.
“Nicky, don’t leave, you can’t avoid this issue forever,” Edward said. Nicky knew it was true, obviously, but he wanted to remain in ignorant bliss or the time being. So he ignored Edward and opened the door, but as soon as it was opened it was slammed closed, Edwards’ hand keeping it shut. Nicky could feel the warmth of Edwards’ body behind him, his breath lightly brushing his neck.
“Well need to talk. Hear me out.”
Nicky turned. “Not now, I have things to do,” he said. “In case you forgotten, I do have a job to do.” Edward looked caught between wanting to kiss Nicky to quieten him and smacking him for being so infuriating. In the end the former appeared to be the more appealing. He lightly pressed his lips to Nicky, catching the younger boy by surprise.
He went to keep the kiss chaste, just as a test, and he found what he expected; Nicky was more persistent in the kiss, moving his lips against Edward’s, wanting the contact, craving it almost. He reacted before he could think. And Edward responded, teasing Nicky with his tongue, softly stroking his bottom lip and quietly requesting entrance.
Nicky’s lips parted slightly, allowing the merest of electric touches before he remembered and came to his senses and pushed Edward away.
“Edward, seriously,” Nicky snapped, blushing slightly. “You can’t always use that as persuasion.”
“You weren’t too protesting,” Edward said cheekily.
“Edward you ––.” Nicky retort was cut off as he was propelled forward by the door being abruptly thrust open. He stumbled, Edward moving automatically to catch and steady him.
“Edward I ––,” Lady Beth cut off, raising an eyebrow. “Oh…I see. Well, Edward, I’m here now and your father wants to see us.” She stepped aside, holding open the door. Glancing Nicky’s direction, Edward nodded and stepped outside and in that momentary alone time, Lady Beth sneered.
“You’ve lost sweetheart,” she sneered, revealing in her remark her own fears, “Edward is mine now.”
[18]
When Nicky saw Lady Beth in the passing, he had to admit that she did look stunning. A tight corset hugged her fine waist, accentuating her brexsts and the teardrop sapphire pendent she wore around her throat on a silver chain. From her hips, great puffy skirts flowed, the white silk of the dress falling gently and beautifully. Her vibrant red hair had been pinned back, but loose curled strands fell around her face, framing her stunningly made up features and her large, beaming smile.
Nicky watched from where he stood at the side lines of the church, awaiting for the piano to begin and ceremony to start. This waiting, observing was just painful. He didn’t want to see Edward kiss some other person, didn’t want to have to fake a smile on this supposed ‘happy occasion’ and wait on her, that dxmnable, deceitful witch.
Up ahead by the altar, Edward stood in his own suit that Nicky had had to help him into. That was a most awkward moment. Each was avoiding the others’ gaze, neither spoke. Nicky had been tense, fingers shaking a little as he helped Edward dress. He looked beautiful, stunning. Perhaps more so then the bride, which is ultimately wrong, Nicky mused. Wasn’t the bride meant to be the show stopper?
But Nicky quickly banished those thoughts. After all, Edward was to be a married man soon and he was standing in a house of god. It was dad enough he had committed and ‘abomination’ but now he was also thinking such thoughts in His house. Was he determined to burn in hell?
He sighed, eyes on the ground. He didn’t want to be here, in this church, reminded of everything he’s much rather forget. His eyes skimmed the crowds that occupied the pews. There were the families of the bride and groom, looking prim and proper, and then there were friend and distant relatives. The females of the land looked on jealousy, eyeing Edward with an impure, almost lecherous look in their eyes. Nicky could almost taste the jealousy in the air, choking and emerald, radiating from the slim bodies of the surrounding females.
Then the piano began to play that familiar tune, and the crowds in the pews stood, all turning towards the church entrance for the arrival of the radiant bride. Even Nicky found himself turning to look from the shadowed sidelines where he had been condemned to stand and observe as Edwards’ personal servant.
And she was beautiful; her arm looped through her fathers’, a bouquet of deep red roses in her other hand. She smiled, blushing and eyes glinting and Nicky suddenly felt empathy towards the envious, whispering girls dotted amongst the guests. He could understand exactly where they were coming from.
She moved up the aisle with grace, her head held high and her smile firmly in place. Her father beside her looked proud, gazing at his daughter with watery eyes, whispering things in her ear that made her blush. Nicky saw her mouth the words ‘thank you’ to the elderly gentleman, before he relinquished his grip on her and instead placed her hand in Edward’s, before backing away.
Beth smiled up at Edward, who bowed his head so very slightly before they both turned to the vicar. He gave them an approving look, before he spoke to the church, the ceremony finally beginning. Nicky hated having to listen to it; it was like some sort of poison. He kept his eyes locked downwards, chewing on his bottom lips agitatedly. Why did he have to be here to witness it? Why was he forced to come? None of the other servants were here? Sometimes he swore Edward was just trying to torture him.
Beth still wore her smile, head turned so as to gaze at Edward, who was looking at the vicar, only occasionally meeting his brides’ gaze and flashing a small smile that could’ve been real as much as it could’ve been faked. Although Nicky found himself hoping it was the latter.
He hated being here. If he was to be completely, unabashedly truthful to himself, it almost felt a though his heart was being squeezed continuously by barbed wire. Painful and brutal. The voice of the vicar in the church was resonant, echoing around the calm peace and quiet of the church as the family and friends looked upon the scene with watery eyes.
Nicky glanced up, Edward and Beth turning to face each other, her hands in his and she was smiling up at him, beauty personified. Then the vicar was speaking once more, the brief pause a breather, a momentary lapse in reality for Nicky to gather himself and brace himself for the words he desperately didn’t want to hear and see the reunion he desperately didn’t want to bear witness to.
“Do you Edward Philip Buckley take Bethany Isobel Harlow to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
There was a pause, it may have been milliseconds, it may have been hours but it was there. Edward, turned, glanced at Nicky for the briefest of moments before he turned his piercing gaze back onto his soon-to-be wife. Nicky chewed his lips harshly.
“I do.”
[XX]
He must be trying to kill you, you decide. No one would be so torturously slow with tender, soft kisses that held a reverence and brief skimming of fingers over feverish skin without some ulterior motive. Something, somewhere, hidden amongst the delicious fog that has clouded your brain, you are sure there was something you were meant to tell him, something vaguely important…about his wife perhaps…?
But it means little now, so insignificant. He is laying on top of you, sparks of dim pleasure electrifying your senses with sensuous slowness that makes you want to beg for more, but the words are lost on the way to your lips. Funny how he can reduce to you complete incoherence so smoothly.
Then he is kissing you, hands skimming your sides; promising, smoothing, teasing. It starts with a concise brushing of lisp against yours, an impatient noise spilling from your throat before you can stop it. He chuckles, warm breath ghosting over your lips as he kisses you again, harder, deeper. His tongue darts out, stroking your bottom lip tauntingly. You sigh, lips parting in the kiss, inviting, silently begging. And he obliges for the first time. Instead of keeping you waiting, he hears your silent request and grants you it, a small relief in a storm of desires.
You’re desperation to be touched –– really touched –– bleeds through into the kiss, ardent and needy in a way you wouldn’t usually allow, but right now he has driven to the brink of insanity by unsubstantial touches that merely hinted at the pleasure you know he could grant you if he deemed it so. And he smiles into the kiss because he knows this. He knows everything about you. He has learnt to read you like a book, know your every move and word and realise the intent behind them. And he uses this to his advantage, twisting you around his little finger, pushing all the right buttons until you are on your back, near begging and desperate for him.
And you are surprised by how little time it takes to get you into such an undignified state.
You groan into the kiss before you can think about or stop it; it’s at whisper volume but its there, lost in the lips pressed against yours. His hands grip your hips, his mouth sliding down your neck, all lips and tongue and teeth. Explosions of pleasure ripple through your body, fiery and near painful in the intensity.
You groan, louder this time, fingers biting crescents into his shoulders and you attempt to stifle any further noises. Both of you are fully aware there are still some servants milling around downstairs, but Edward seems less concerned then you about them. He seems content to delight himself in your mewls and purrs and muffled moans for as long as he wants which kisses and bites in al the right places at all the right times. He is playing you body as well as he plays his violin, striking the right cords to leave you breathless and trembling.
“Edward…” you whisper, eyes closed and head thrown back as he tastes your throat. You feel him tense slightly, apparently there’s something in your voice, something that breaks his decision to slowly drown you in pleasure and grant you your wish.
His kiss his harsher this time, screaming with want and desire and lxst. He presses you into the pillows gripping your hips powerfully, steadying you before he pushes forward.
A moan escaped your lips before you can bite down. Your bodies move together, lost in yourselves. All there is in your world is him, his skin, his heat, his breath, his everything. You don't need anything else, nothing but him. And you kiss him, telling him this through lips and tongue, searing and zealous as you lose yourself in him, forever his no matter what happens, whether you like or not. And a great part of you wonders if that had been his plan all along.
“I love you.” The words are spoken in the dark of the night, breathless as you lay beside him, eyes closed as you rest against the pillows. You smile despite the doubts. How many others has he told those same words to? The old fears, old doubts that you can’t seem to shake off.
And yet he doesn’t blame you, he knows his past, knows his habits. He doesn’t blame you for your concerns. In fact, he praises you for keeping a hold of them. A part of him, you realise, doesn’t trust himself to remain like this even if his feelings are true. But, as foolish as it may seem, you do, beneath the doubts and fears, you trust him with your life.
“I don’t blame you,” he says, as if reading your mind. You can feel his eyes on your face, but you refuse to open your eyes. Not yet anyway. Let him speak. Let him explain as he always does, before you give your sincere reply. “I wouldn’t trust me either. But I do love you and this is completely different. I will do whatever is in my power to prove that to you. I’ll never hurt you intentionally.”
You smile. It is only in these times that he is so sincere, so sweet. The charade of the daytime is too hard a habit to break, but here, in bed with you, he drops that charade and reveals to you the deeply perceptive and sensitive side he had otherwise hidden from the world. It is just one step he enforced to prove to you that this is something significant, that it means something.
“Beth I nothing, not really. She is an inconvenience, a necessity, but I feel nothing for her other then contempt really.” He pauses, and sighs. “Or any of the others for that matter. Only you…”
You open your eyes and regard him with a soft look. And you nod despite the old insecurities that whisper eternally in the back of your mind.
“I know Edward,” you say quietly, shifting across the bed slightly, moving closer to your lover. “And I love you too.”
THE END. |
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