Rosalind Rookwood (espionne) wrote in an_ill_wind, @ 2009-07-18 23:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | - 1980/07 july, augustus rookwood, rosalind rookwood |
WHO: Augustus and Rosalind
WHEN: Saturday, 18 July 1980 (early morning)
WHERE: Augustus' bedroom, Rookwood Manor
WHAT: Morning after
RATING: R
STATUS: Completed log
It was still quite early, although the morning sun was beginning to brighten up the room, streaming through the windows, and Augustus was aware of it before he even really woke up. He gave a rather languid stretch, feeling almost a little smug as muscles he hadn't used in far too long gave a knowing twinge. He was only fifty-three; hardly a recent Hogwarts graduate, but in the grand scheme of things he was just as far from a hobbling old man as he was from a schoolboy, and he felt some sense of relief at this realisation. If this was the closest thing to a mid-life crisis he was going to endure, he should consider himself a lucky man. Oh, but he was a lucky man, really. A very lucky man, when he thought about it. Finally opening his eyes, his gaze fell on Rosalind, asleep beside him; last night had been thoroughly enjoyable, and she'd seemed to enjoy it as much as she'd been able to, and to him it very much seemed like a resoundingly successful evening. He might not be a teenager, but he felt distinctively boyish about the whole thing. It was rather hypocritical of him, to issue a statement about propriety and then sleep with his fiancée two weeks before their actual wedding night, but he was well aware that neither of them would be publicly addressing their behaviour in the bedroom, writing it all out for everyone to see. That was the difference. That and Augustus had more than earned his right to step a bit out of line, but that was beside the point - and not the ideal topic of thought for the moment. The sun teased at the edge of Rosalind's consciousness, in that moment when she was neither awake nor asleep but somewhere in between. Slowly, her senses woke up, her mind trailing behind and trying to process the information they gave. Flesh brushing against her leg, warmth at her back, feeling a gaze on her... Opening her eyes, she didn't recognise the room she was in immediately, and then her brain caught up, memories of the night flooding back and blood rushing to her face. She shut her eyes then reopened them, but nothing changed. Her own flesh was telling her that she had not dreamed any of this, it had really happened. She'd never thought that she would know this feeling before her wedding and it did annoy her a little that they hadn't waited, but Augustus hadn't been able to wait through their first date before asking for her hand, why was she surprised that he could not wait until their wedding night? Her fiancé could be the most patient man in his work, but it didn't extend to his personal life, as she had learned since they'd grown closer. Part of her wanted to pull on the sheet to cover herself, feeling his gaze on her, but she was too rational to listen to it; he had seen it all last night and it would be useless to hide now. Tilting her head to the side, she met his gaze and smiled hesitantly. "Good morning," she whispered, feeling as though speaking any louder would be inappropriate, somehow. "Good morning," Augustus murmured in reply, his voice a bit thicker than usual from sleep. He knew this was an entirely new situation for her - and an unexpected one, at that - and as he'd done the evening before, he wanted to do what he could to make her comfortable with it all. It was only fair to her; why shouldn't she enjoy this aspect of their relationship as much as he did? "How are you feeling?" It perhaps would have been wiser to ask her with his gaze on her face, instead of her body, but he was only human, when it came down to it, and having a beautiful young woman in your bed tended to be something of a distraction. That bedroom voice heavy from sleep brought Augustus closer, somehow. They were both vulnerable, Rosalind realised; it wasn't only her but him too. She wondered how anyone could sleep around, showing such a vulnerability to a stranger. She could not imagine anyone else than Augustus here with her now, and while she would have preferred to have her husband by her side rather than her fiancé, it wouldn't do to waste time and energy on getting worked up about it. It was done and it had been good - though painful at first, she would not deny it - and the next two weeks would seem even longer now. She remembered his face last night, and her own pleasure at being able to get such a reaction from him, and it felt good to see how even this morning she still had that power over him, if his gaze on her was anything to go by. "I'm good," she replied, her smile more assured now, "you?" "I'm quite well, myself," Augustus replied, a hint of a smile appearing as he met Rosalind's gaze, forcing himself to focus. He was much better than 'quite well', truth be told, but being polite was more appropriate at the moment. "I very much enjoyed our evening," he continued, lowering his head to drop a lingering kiss to her bare shoulder. It was a marvel, really, having her here in his bed like this. He knew she'd been nervous, and not entirely pleased with his decision not to wait the last two weeks out, but she had agreed and been willing; if he'd seen fear or anger or anything truly unsettling, he didn't think he would have been able to go through with it. He was not that sort of man, when it came down to it, and his affection for Rosalind was real; there was no reason for him to force himself on her in a way she did not want. She shivered pleasantly when his lips met her skin. "So did I," she said softly, turning in bed to face him. It was not a lie. Yes, she had been wary, nervous, and she had felt rushed by his comment in their journals. Still, once she'd been in his arms it had all happened so naturally. He'd been good to her, delicate and considerate, and she was thankful for it. She smiled at the irony of it, how he could both pressure her and be tender and attentive. Augustus was a man of contradictions, in some respect, she had discovered. She wondered what else she would learn about him throughout their marriage; a lot, she was sure, for he was a complex man who would most probably keep on surprising her. She liked that, she thought, and she reached forward, catching his lips with hers. Augustus shifted as Rosalind turned to face him, resting his weight on his elbow as he settled down beside her. "Good," he said, a bit belatedly, though the sentiment was the same. There were some people's feelings, some people's lives, that did not mean anything to him; he did not find them worthy of consideration, much less understanding or compassion, but it did not mean he was incapable of feeling anything towards another person. Quite the opposite, in fact. He didn't always show it in a manner befitting the circumstances, but the intent was there beneath it all. He leaned in to meet her kiss, a softer, slower kiss, without the urgency he'd felt last night. "I mean that, you know," he said, not pulling away. "It was my intention for you to enjoy yourself." Rosalind savoured the kiss, noticing how it was softer and more tender, the way his previous kisses had been, before last night. He'd been so proper, until yesterday; he'd lulled her into a false sense of safety, letting her believe that he wanted to wait until their wedding night. It was why she'd been so shocked by his request in his journal, after all. It had been such a surprise. Now though, softer and tender as it may be, this kiss was still taking place in his bed - their bed, soon - where they both laid naked, and it was anything but innocent. She smiled against his lips as he spoke, replying, "I did," without pulling away either. And she had, truly. It had hurt, of course, and she knew that there'd be blood on his sheets, but it had been only one moment in the night, preceded and followed by much sweeter moments. Their lips still brushing, she could not resist and kissed him again, her hand reaching up to his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of the bare skin beneath her fingertips. Augustus allowed himself to enjoy the kiss, settling his free hand across her waist and on the bed to keep himself upright. It was something of a novelty, to have a young, beautiful woman in his bed. It had been far too long since he'd been with anyone, let alone someone he found himself more than superficially attracted to, and he felt a sense of contentment that had been long missing. It was so close to their wedding, after all, and he didn't see the point in having missed out on this for longer than necessary. "I've more planned for your birthday, of course," he murmured, pulling back so he could look her in the eye. Despite his own selfish urges, he certainly hadn't forgotten that it was her birthday, and he'd planned accordingly. She didn't want their kiss to stop, rather wishing that they could repeat last night's experience once more before she had to go. Amused, she realised what was the main reason for waiting until their wedding night: she didn't want to leave anymore. She wanted to stay here, with him, and never return to her bed in her parents' home. She smiled as he brought up her birthday, letting her finger trail up and down his arm. "Please tell me that your gift include never sending me back home," she whispered, locking her gaze with his. "It would be cruel, after showing me what was to come..." Augustus' brows raised slightly, a pleased smile crossing his face as he gazed down at Rosalind. He'd known she would come to enjoy what they'd done, and that he would do what he could to make the evening pleasurable for her, but he had not anticipated quite this reaction; he found himself feeling rather grateful for it. "If I could keep you here from now on, I would," he said, quite honestly. "The idea of not having you in my bed every night until our wedding is one I am not fond of, although that would be a selfish gift on my part. I've planned a dinner for us, tomorrow evening, and a night at the theater. And I've a gift for you, as well." Rosalind beamed as she watched Augustus, glad that her admission had had exactly the reaction she'd been hoping for. "I wouldn't say it's selfish, as I want it just as much as you do, but it is impractical, sadly." She wondered if she could Apparate here from her own bedroom, back in Derbyshire, to surprise him. Her parents would be none the wiser for it. Maybe... maybe it could work. He was telling her of his plans for the next night now though, pulling her from her plotting. "Would those be last night's plans, by any chance, that you just pushed back to tomorrow?" she asked, grinning. He'd been so impatient, not even giving them time to eat before he had pulled her in his arms. "Perhaps," Augustus agreed, unable to keep a small grin off his face. It was the truth, after all; he'd been entirely prepared to take her out on the evening of her actual birthday, but he'd been nearly overcome with his desire for her, and in the end he'd been unable to even attempt pushing it aside and carrying on as though he felt nothing, and endure another evening of chaste kisses and propriety in public. And, given that the Rookwood name meant something, it had been all too easy to move their plans to Sunday evening. He was quite pleased with the result, and glad that he'd changed their plans. "Though I think we've both enjoyed the change in plans, have we not?" "Yes," Rosalind admitted, though she hadn't been at first. She was still slightly annoyed that she would not be pure on her wedding day, but what did it matter, really, when her husband still was her first and only man? No one would ever know but them - and her parents, if she didn't return home soon, she realised. And while she'd known those pleasures earlier than she would have liked to, she was most definitely not lying when she said that she had enjoyed them. She couldn't help but be curious, though, and knowledge was key as they both knew. If she could learn what had brought such a sudden and overwhelming impatience, she would know what to do to entice him again. Fighting her modesty, she asked him. "You were just you," Augustus replied, gaze serious as he watched her. There was nothing that she had done other than to be herself that had so enticed him; from the moment of their engagement they had been chaste and careful and watched, and he had reached his breaking point; there was only so much a man could take, given the situation. "I believe this will become a regular occurrence," he added, meaning not the act of sex itself (as he fully intended on being with her regularly) but the act of him reaching a point where he had to have her - and he took her. He was a man of whims, outside of his carefully structured public persona, and he did not enjoy having to wait for what he truly wanted. Rosalind shivered under his gaze, amazed by the power she was discovering to have over him. She hadn't needed to even flirt with him to win him over and get him to ask for her hand, in the first place, and then fuel his desire to a breaking point. She felt both empowered and bemused, for she was not foolish enough to think that it went only one way. She was his, as well. "I'm glad for it," she murmured, pulling him towards her for another kiss, though her belly chose that very moment to rumble. She had not eaten since her quick lunch at her desk the previous day and she was famished, much as she'd rather forget it. Augustus got the briefest of kisses in before he heard Rosalind's stomach, and he pulled back, looking just the very slightest bit sheepish. "You haven't eaten," he pointed out, knowing she'd at least missed dinner the evening before, and breakfast this morning. "Will you eat here, or are you going back to your parents'?" He didn't want her to leave, but given the circumstances he knew she probably would need to; he had to remember that her situation, for the next two weeks, was very different from his own. "I wish I could stay," she said, but they both knew that she had to return home. If she Apparated straight to her bedroom, she could fool her parents into thinking that she had slept there. It was still early morning; it might not be too late for it to work - yet. She wished that she could forget about it all and stay here with him, but it would forever ruin the relationship between her father and Augustus and she did not want that. "You haven't told me what my gift was, though. Don't think I've forgotten." She was buying time, yes. She didn't want to leave. She could stay a little longer without much risk, couldn't she? "I'll give it to you when we celebrate properly," Augustus said, grinning again. It would look beautiful on her for their evening out, and he intended to give it to her tonight when he met her at her parents' estate for Narcissa's gala. He could give it to her now, but it didn't seem entirely fitting at the moment. "How cruel of you!" she protested, slapping his shoulder playfully. She wondered what she'd tell her parents when they asked what gift he'd given her, then pushed the thought aside. She'd think of something, she always did. Augustus had had every intention of letting Rosalind go back to her parents' estate - he'd even been reaching for his discarded clothes without a second thought. But then she'd lightly slapped his shoulder, and all of his good intentions vanished, and he turned back to her, his hands sliding around her waist and he pushed her back against the bed. His hands slid up her sides as he pinned her to the bed, holding her with his weight, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Well then," he said, once again thinking about how extraordinarily lucky he was, "that wasn't a fair fight, was it?" Rosalind could hold her own in a fight, they both knew it, but she had not expected to need such skills in bed and she yelped - though she would have protested to the use of such a word to describe the noise she produced - when he turned back and pinned her down. "All is fair in love and war, isn't it?" she retorted, enjoying Augustus' reaction. She probably should return to her parents' home, yes, but this was far more entertaining. Augustus laughed quietly, sliding his hands over Rosalind's sides and up to her arms, and he lightly grasped her wrists, pulling her arms up over her head. "Not always," he replied, grinning before he lowered his head to kiss along the smooth lines of her throat. She was deliciously young, her skin soft and warm, and, really, he found her far too enticing. The others may be content in their marriages and their established lives, but this right here was worth the wait. Rosalind, for one, was very glad that he had waited for her. She should feel trapped in this position, should feel powerless, yet she didn't. Instead, she felt desired and desirable, and she closed her eyes as his lips trailed up her throat, concentrating on the feelings he brought her, his skin against hers, his weight on her... "Oh no? Why don't you show me the consequences," she murmured. "I fully intend to," Augustus murmured, entirely too pleased with himself and the situation as his mouth moved down further, tracing along the curve of her collarbone. It was a rather heady sensation, knowing that Rosalind would soon be his wife, and that she was his and his alone. He fully intended to take advantage of that fact, he thought, as he pressed a lingering kiss to the hollow of her throat. Soon enough she would be here with him every evening; no more pretending with her parents, or being forced to endure the polite chasteness that had plagued them for weeks and weeks now. |