| Subject: This I Offer 11/20 |
Author:
Athena4
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: 19:59:36 03/07/02 Thu
In reply to:
Athena4
's message, "This I Offer" on 14:58:36 03/03/02 Sun
Several hours later, Madeline knocked on the door of Ryker’s library. Her eyes were swollen, her face streaked with tears, and her hair, loose for the first time since coming to Ryker’s, was hanging limply down her back and in her face. In short, she looked the part of the grieving wife. A woman who needed comfort; a woman who needed the strong arms of a man to hold her through the night as she cried.
Inside, she was ice.
It had taken hours to achieve, hours to push aside her own feelings regarding Paul’s death, to achieve the calm she knew she would need to play her role properly this evening. But she’d done it, and tonight, she hoped, would be the beginning of the end for this mission.
“Come in, Joseph.” Even muffled by the door, Ryker’s voice sounded tense. The strain was definitely getting to him, especially after the previous day’s losses. Apparently, she wouldn’t be the only one needing a bit of comforting tonight.
“Mr. Ryker?” Madeline kept her voice low, sliding the panelled door closed behind her as she entered.
“Madeline!” Ryker stood and crossed the room quickly to stand before her. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight, my dear. “ Almost gingerly, he brushed a hair from the side of her face, taking her hand in his. This was going to be easier than she’d thought.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she replied, letting tears well up in her eyes. “I- I didn’t want to be alone.”
“Understandable,” Ryker nodded, leading her to the window seat. Pulling the blanket off the couch, he draped it over her shoulders. “Can I get you anything, a cup of tea perhaps?”
“That would be nice,” Madeline said, leaning back against the cushions. “Thank you.”
She watched his reflection in the glass as he poured her tea, and marvelled at the change in his behaviour. Since she’d entered the room, there hadn’t been one leer, or one inappropriate touch. Admittedly, he’d been a little more subtle in his advances in the last week or so, but she’d still expected some sort of lewd behaviour.
She hoped this sudden flash of geniality wouldn’t affect her mission.
“Tell me about Paul,” Ryker said, seating himself opposite her on the window seat. “I never got to know him.”
A lump developed in Madeline’s throat, a perfect match for the one that had been in her stomach since the afternoon. She hadn’t been expecting this. Laying her head against the cool glass of the window, she swallowed, pulling herself together. Ice. she thought to herself. Cool. Detached. She could do this….
Gnawing her lower lip, she allowed the tears to fall again, feeling them slide down her cheek and drip off the end of her chin. “He was wonderful,” she began, mentally pulling up the information she knew was in the file they submitted to Ryker. “When we first met, he was in the army. He looked so good in his uniform. I think they cut military uniforms that way on purpose,” she smiled, wiping a tear from her chin before it dropped. “To attract women. It certainly worked on me.”
Ryker chuckled, leaning back against the other wall to watch her. From the corner of her eye, she thought she caught a familiar look – his leer returning. Good.
“I made him chase me,” she continued. “I could have just let him have me; I was willing, but the chase was more fun. He’s a romantic at heart, you know.” Shifting slightly, and stretching out a leg on a window seat, she closed her eyes, pushing back the image of Paul -- her Paul -- that threatened to overwhelm her storytelling.
She began talking again, spewing out memories one after the other, fighting to keep her own personal memories from invading the profile.
“It rained the day we were married…They say that brings good luck...we never saw any of it though. We were always wanting for money, especially after his discharge. He didn’t do it, you know. No matter what the army says. The man attacked him first. Was he supposed to take it?”
She paused for effect, not really expecting an answer – but Ryker placed a reassuring hand on her calf, urging her to continue.
“My momma never liked him either; she tried to keep us apart. Said he didn’t treat me right. She doesn’t – didn’t – see what I saw. The unconditional love. The tenderness.”
Madeline paused again, the full import of her words hitting her all at once. When she spoke again, it was in a whisper fraught with emotion. “He loved me.”
Seated as she was, she felt Ryker shift on the cushions, sliding towards her along the window seat. As her eyelids fluttered open, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her tight against his chest. Unconsciously, she found herself returning his embrace, burrowing into the warmth of his arms, tears falling steadily down her cheeks. And what scared her most was that the tears were no longer just for show.
Broad hands stroked her back, and she shuddered, leaning further into the embrace that held her. It seemed as if Ryker’s grip was the only thing holding her together, the only thing standing between her and complete loss of control. She actually feared he might let go.
Biting back more tears, she tightened her arms around him, pressing her face against his chest. He was a large man, much more so than Paul, but still she could feel his heart beat, still feel his warmth through his clothing.
She wanted to feel… needed it desperately.
As if in answer to her silent plea, Ryker’s hands roved downwards, sliding into the waistband of her skirt. His fingers slipped down still further, pulling her shirt out and allowing access to bare skin. Madeline shivered unconsciously as his fingers drifted up her spine, the cool touch almost torturous against her warm body.
Releasing her grip, she allowed her hands to drop to her sides, leaning back against his hands, the touch of skin on skin impossible to resist.
She wanted to feel…
Madeline closed her eyes, feeling Ryker’s hands pause on her ribcage, his thumbs stroking the soft skin beneath her breasts. The tingle of callused fingers was absent where he touched her, his hands soft, smooth against her torso. Yet, she moaned as his hands strayed further upwards, coming forward to fondle her breasts through her bra.
Opening her eyes, she met his gaze steadily, bringing her own hands up to touch his arms, guiding them upwards to remove her shirt. With it gone, he made quick work of her bra, tossing it aside as one hand moved back to caress her bared chest. “So beautiful,” he murmured, his hands working in circles over her breasts. “Simply exquisite…”
Without warning, tears seeped into Madeline’s eyes once more, her breath catching in her throat. It all seemed beyond her control. As his touch strayed towards her hips, her body shuddered in response. As he pulled her closer, her back arched, forcing her breasts against his bare chest.
When had his chest become bare?
His hands delved lower and she forced them downwards, aching for his touch, wanting to feel him deep within her.
Her heart heaved in her chest, rebelling against her body. Her mind screamed in agony, begging her to stop her descent.
But she wanted to feel….needed to know that she, at least, was alive.
Ignoring the agony, ignoring the tears, she continued to spiral.
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 