That there had been a shift in her relationship with Mr Norrell was undeniable. Even Jonathan had remarked how much better they had been getting on.
“I find it strange that I still call him Mr Norrell,” Arabella said to Jonathan one morning over breakfast. Norrell had not made it down, but that was not unusual.
Jonathan winced a little. “Just don’t start calling him Gilbert,” he said in warning. “He hates that.”
Her husband obviously spoke from experience, so she deferred to him on this matter. She wasn’t fond of that name either, to be honest, so she was happy to respect his wishes.
Arabella found herself wanting to spend more time with Norrell, especially when Jonathan was away. Before, she had only herself for company around the house. She had friends that she visited of course, but it wasn’t quite the same as having someone at home, where she could relax.
She was also noticing other things. One morning, before he left for the Commons, she watched as Jonathan said something to Norrell, which made the older man smile broadly. It was the most honest, happy smile she had ever seen him give and she couldn’t help but think it a rather lovely smile.
When she made love with Jonathan she couldn’t help but wonder if he was the same with Norrell. Obviously there would be some difference, but was he as attentive and as exuberant? And what of Norrell, who was so shy and retiring. Surely there was something about him that kept Jonathan’s interest.
When she was alone she thought about it even more, because there was nothing to distract her then.
She almost asked Jonathan, but at the last moment changed her mind, blushing deeply at just the thought of the conversation.
On one night when Jonathan went to the Bedford, Arabella had gone to bed early. She had been going over the plans to redecorate the sitting room and she was left feeling so tired that she had barely been able to keep her eyes open at dinner. Yet when she was in bed she found that she could not fall asleep. In fact, she had been filled with that same curious energy as before, as though she would quite like to do something reckless.
Finding sleep elusive and the bed strangely uncomfortable, she put a dressing gown on over her nightdress and padded downstairs in bare feet. There was a light coming from the library and for a moment she thought that Jonathan was home early. She discovered that it was Norrell, reading through Jonathan’s notes, the ones for his new book.
He jumped up when she came through the door, maybe feeling guilty at having been caught looking at the notes. He had no reason to; she knew Jonathan would be happy for him to read them. She said as much to Norrell and he relaxed his shoulders a little in relief.
“Jonathan is so prolific. I do envy that.” Everyone knew that Norrell had more thoughts on the subject of magic than anyone in the world, but found it impossible to commit them to paper except in copious, long-winded notes.
“It comes from having an untidy mind, I think,” she said as she approached the desk. “It all just sort of, falls out of his head.”
Norrell looked down at the desk and wrinkled his nose. “Not just an untidy mind.”
The desk, the whole room in fact, looked like a paper factory had exploded in it. Arabella laughed fondly, and Norrell smiled one of those genuine smiles that Arabella had taken such a fancy to. Something must have shown in her face, for Norrell’s eyes went a little wide, and he swallowed audibly. It was then that he noticed that she was in her night clothes.
“Mrs Strange,” he began but she cut him off.
“Arabella,” she said, stepping round the desk towards him. He backed up a little, but was blocked by the arm of the chair. “There’s no need to scuttle off,” she said with a kind smile. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”
He still looked warily at her. She cocked her head to one side, and examined his face for a moment.
“Are you happy?” she asked after a moment.
He blinked in surprise. Whatever he expected her to say, that was not it. “Yes,” he said, then frowned at himself, as if he had not expected himself to be so honest.
“Good,” she replied, reaching for his hand.
His skin was smooth and warm and flawless. She squeezed his hand affectionately and then smiled at him. “I am happy too,” she said. “I am glad you came to live with us.”
For a moment she thought that Norrell was going to burst in to tears, he looked so overwhelmed by her words. “It is very kind of you to say so.”
Finally giving in to the impulse she had a few times now, she stepped forward into Norrell’s personal space, and kissed him lightly on the lips. He looked startled, but he didn’t back away.
“Why did you do that?” he asked; his voice sounded as though it was being strained through an accordion.
She smiled. “I just wanted to,” she said with a shrug. “I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to.” She looked up at him through her lashes, coyly, flirtatiously. “Do you not want me to?”
Norrell looked as though he was about to say something, but he was too mesmerized by her lips that he forgot what he was going to say.
When he did not answer she stepped forward again, and placed her lips more firmly to his. He let out a little squeak, but he did press back, very tentatively, as though he had only ever kissed his maiden aunt before.
She backed away and pursed her lips. “Now, I know you can do better than that,” she challenged, and before she had time to press forward once more, he swept her up and kissed her soundly. And it was good; so good that she forgot to breathe and had to pull away before she suffocated.
She only needed a moment though, before she kissed him again, with as much fervour as before. She buried her hands in his hair, and his hands held her firmly by her trim waist. She wasn’t used to kissing someone so short, but she found it rather refreshing not to have to reach up, or get onto her tiptoes.
Meanwhile, his tongue found its way into her mouth and his arms wound their way around her, crushing her to his body. He kissed so much like Jonathan that she suddenly remembered the kiss she had seen, and as a hot lance of desire sliced through her she moaned into his mouth.
Norrell pulled away from the kiss, and they both stood there, panting hard, lips red a swollen. His hair was a mess and his blue eyes were almost black, the pupils wide, partly from the darkness, partly from desire. She knew that look, even if she wasn’t used to seeing it on this particular face.
“I thought this would feel wrong,” Norrell said finally.
“You have thought about this?” Arabella asked, her fingers twisting through the brown and grey curls on his head. “So have I,” she said when he nodded in reply. “I don’t think it’s wrong. I’m practically your wife as well.”
Norrell looked at her as though she was something rare and precious, and she found that she rather liked that look. She felt alive and wonderful from his kisses and she wanted more. Arabella kissed him again. It started out slow, but as they fanned the flames between them it grew in passion, until she was pushing him firmly against the arm of the chair, and he was struggling to pull her closer to him. She could feel his erection stirring against her thigh and the excitement of it all made her so wet that if she didn’t do something right now she thought she might explode.
“Come to bed with me,” she breathed against his mouth.
He gasped, but he took her hand and let himself be led to the bedroom.
Fill: Everything You Always Wanted (7/10)
That there had been a shift in her relationship with Mr Norrell was undeniable. Even Jonathan had remarked how much better they had been getting on.
“I find it strange that I still call him Mr Norrell,” Arabella said to Jonathan one morning over breakfast. Norrell had not made it down, but that was not unusual.
Jonathan winced a little. “Just don’t start calling him Gilbert,” he said in warning. “He hates that.”
Her husband obviously spoke from experience, so she deferred to him on this matter. She wasn’t fond of that name either, to be honest, so she was happy to respect his wishes.
Arabella found herself wanting to spend more time with Norrell, especially when Jonathan was away. Before, she had only herself for company around the house. She had friends that she visited of course, but it wasn’t quite the same as having someone at home, where she could relax.
She was also noticing other things. One morning, before he left for the Commons, she watched as Jonathan said something to Norrell, which made the older man smile broadly. It was the most honest, happy smile she had ever seen him give and she couldn’t help but think it a rather lovely smile.
When she made love with Jonathan she couldn’t help but wonder if he was the same with Norrell. Obviously there would be some difference, but was he as attentive and as exuberant? And what of Norrell, who was so shy and retiring. Surely there was something about him that kept Jonathan’s interest.
When she was alone she thought about it even more, because there was nothing to distract her then.
She almost asked Jonathan, but at the last moment changed her mind, blushing deeply at just the thought of the conversation.
On one night when Jonathan went to the Bedford, Arabella had gone to bed early. She had been going over the plans to redecorate the sitting room and she was left feeling so tired that she had barely been able to keep her eyes open at dinner. Yet when she was in bed she found that she could not fall asleep. In fact, she had been filled with that same curious energy as before, as though she would quite like to do something reckless.
Finding sleep elusive and the bed strangely uncomfortable, she put a dressing gown on over her nightdress and padded downstairs in bare feet. There was a light coming from the library and for a moment she thought that Jonathan was home early. She discovered that it was Norrell, reading through Jonathan’s notes, the ones for his new book.
He jumped up when she came through the door, maybe feeling guilty at having been caught looking at the notes. He had no reason to; she knew Jonathan would be happy for him to read them. She said as much to Norrell and he relaxed his shoulders a little in relief.
“Jonathan is so prolific. I do envy that.” Everyone knew that Norrell had more thoughts on the subject of magic than anyone in the world, but found it impossible to commit them to paper except in copious, long-winded notes.
“It comes from having an untidy mind, I think,” she said as she approached the desk. “It all just sort of, falls out of his head.”
Norrell looked down at the desk and wrinkled his nose. “Not just an untidy mind.”
The desk, the whole room in fact, looked like a paper factory had exploded in it. Arabella laughed fondly, and Norrell smiled one of those genuine smiles that Arabella had taken such a fancy to. Something must have shown in her face, for Norrell’s eyes went a little wide, and he swallowed audibly. It was then that he noticed that she was in her night clothes.
“Mrs Strange,” he began but she cut him off.
“Arabella,” she said, stepping round the desk towards him. He backed up a little, but was blocked by the arm of the chair. “There’s no need to scuttle off,” she said with a kind smile. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”
He still looked warily at her. She cocked her head to one side, and examined his face for a moment.
“Are you happy?” she asked after a moment.
He blinked in surprise. Whatever he expected her to say, that was not it. “Yes,” he said, then frowned at himself, as if he had not expected himself to be so honest.
“Good,” she replied, reaching for his hand.
His skin was smooth and warm and flawless. She squeezed his hand affectionately and then smiled at him. “I am happy too,” she said. “I am glad you came to live with us.”
For a moment she thought that Norrell was going to burst in to tears, he looked so overwhelmed by her words. “It is very kind of you to say so.”
Finally giving in to the impulse she had a few times now, she stepped forward into Norrell’s personal space, and kissed him lightly on the lips. He looked startled, but he didn’t back away.
“Why did you do that?” he asked; his voice sounded as though it was being strained through an accordion.
She smiled. “I just wanted to,” she said with a shrug. “I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to.” She looked up at him through her lashes, coyly, flirtatiously. “Do you not want me to?”
Norrell looked as though he was about to say something, but he was too mesmerized by her lips that he forgot what he was going to say.
When he did not answer she stepped forward again, and placed her lips more firmly to his. He let out a little squeak, but he did press back, very tentatively, as though he had only ever kissed his maiden aunt before.
She backed away and pursed her lips. “Now, I know you can do better than that,” she challenged, and before she had time to press forward once more, he swept her up and kissed her soundly. And it was good; so good that she forgot to breathe and had to pull away before she suffocated.
She only needed a moment though, before she kissed him again, with as much fervour as before. She buried her hands in his hair, and his hands held her firmly by her trim waist. She wasn’t used to kissing someone so short, but she found it rather refreshing not to have to reach up, or get onto her tiptoes.
Meanwhile, his tongue found its way into her mouth and his arms wound their way around her, crushing her to his body. He kissed so much like Jonathan that she suddenly remembered the kiss she had seen, and as a hot lance of desire sliced through her she moaned into his mouth.
Norrell pulled away from the kiss, and they both stood there, panting hard, lips red a swollen. His hair was a mess and his blue eyes were almost black, the pupils wide, partly from the darkness, partly from desire. She knew that look, even if she wasn’t used to seeing it on this particular face.
“I thought this would feel wrong,” Norrell said finally.
“You have thought about this?” Arabella asked, her fingers twisting through the brown and grey curls on his head. “So have I,” she said when he nodded in reply. “I don’t think it’s wrong. I’m practically your wife as well.”
Norrell looked at her as though she was something rare and precious, and she found that she rather liked that look. She felt alive and wonderful from his kisses and she wanted more. Arabella kissed him again. It started out slow, but as they fanned the flames between them it grew in passion, until she was pushing him firmly against the arm of the chair, and he was struggling to pull her closer to him. She could feel his erection stirring against her thigh and the excitement of it all made her so wet that if she didn’t do something right now she thought she might explode.
“Come to bed with me,” she breathed against his mouth.
He gasped, but he took her hand and let himself be led to the bedroom.