BHM Cravats and Coat Tails - by Xyantha (~BHM, ~~WG, Romance)

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Xyantha

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She stared up at Raoul as he straddled her, slowly climbing up her body, kissing her hungrily. He was deliciously round. His cheekbones were obscured by a layer of pudge on his cheeks, merging into a soft double chin that deepened when he grinned.

He straddled her, naked, and patted his soft middle. “I’m going to get so fat,” he growled to her, hands caressing his bulk as she fed him ice cream. “I know you love it, you saucy wench. You want it bigger, don’t you?” He grabbed the sides of his belly and under her gaze it grew perceptibly, bulging into a sizeable paunch, eating the ice cream more quickly. “You want to feed me until I explode, don’t you?” He let go of his belly and it sloshed forward, sagging down. He looked into her eyes, smirking as his face rounded, his double chin thickening. He jiggled it, and each wave that rippled through it caused it to sag further and further, jutting out demandingly. “You want this big gut to smother you.” He hefted it and let it fall. The massive globe of quivering fat covered her from stomach to chin, sagging onto the bed.

The weight threatened to cut off her breath, and slowly it began to hurt. She struggled, but was unable to move his massive bulk, which was hurting her ribs. Raoul rocked forward, bracing himself on her shoulders, and licked her.

Jerking back with a squeal, Kitty pushed. Two massive dogs looked at her, panting. One had a paw on each of her shoulders, tongue dangling. The other was sprawled across her middle. When she looked at it, it barked, rolling off her and kicking the sheets. Both dogs began barking excitedly as she began shifting.

Where was she? She inhaled, then groaned. The entire bed smelled of Raoul.

It wasn’t as if she couldn’t remember anything that happened yesterday. It was odd – it felt like she was viewing memories of someone else’s past. Or perhaps the future. It was a struggle, but she remembered seeing brown hurl towards her. There was a blank space where her brain seemed to twist around the memory, avoiding whatever happened. The next thing she really remembered, that felt like it actually happened was…feeding Raoul ice cream? That couldn’t be right, that must have been a dream. She turned between the soft sheets. Musky, heady, pleasant, the smell of him filled her nostrils. She lifted her head, groaning as it began to pound and nausea set in as her stomach lurched.

The lighter brown dog whined at her, big, begging eyes moving from her to the door. “Do you need to relieve yourself?” Both dogs cocked their heads, ears pricking and staring at her. “Relieve yourself?” She repeated, amused. They stood motionless before launching off the bed and spinning around on the floor, play bowing.

Kitty looked around the room. Although she had no proof this was Raoul’s room, she had a strong feeling this little space was his. It was exactly how she pictured it would be. Well put together like its tenant, it was a tidy mess. Books were stacked on a bedside table carefully but not precisely, the spines on several well worn from reading. The closet door was slightly ajar. A cravat hung off a closet knob. The sheets she lay on were high quality but not overly fancy. Large pillows were piled beside the bed, along with a half chewed bone and a mangled doll.

Curiosity overcame her and she slipped out of bed, ignoring her head and stomach. The dogs panted at her, laying down patiently. Instead of cold floor, a lush carpet tickled her toes. Curling them in delight she smiled, sliding a hand down the mahogany bedpost. Making her way to the window she looked out, breathing in the air. It was a beautiful view of the park, with a pond twinkling merrily in the distance. The thin linen night rail she had been dressed in flapped against her gently in the late summer air. A clicking noise made her look over her shoulder. Raoul stood against the door frame, looking at her intensely. The mirror beside the door reflected her own wane image back at her.

The summer sun from the window filtered through the thin fabric, highlighting every curve for him to see. Half turned as she was, the underside of her left breast was clear, and there was a deep shadow between her legs, highlighting their contours. Heat flooded her cheeks, and she moistened, staring at the man in the doorway as if for the first time. He looked haggard but still deathly handsome, hair mussed and cravat messy . The first time she had met him he had seemed a cultured tease, darkly if typically handsome.

Something about him had changed. Her dream intruded, and she felt her nipples tighten. Dark grey eyes still eyed her boldly, but a shadow of hesitation darkened them. His face looked more inviting – less rigid and hard. Not only figuratively, but literally, she realized. His cheeks were softer, with the slightest shadow below his chin, which deepened slightly when he looked down. His broad chest was the same, but instead of sliding into a trim waist, he looked ever so slightly rounder and fuller. The silver button on his waistcoat on the thickest part of his waist winked in the light, catching her eye.

He followed her gaze. “Get dressed. You’re father will be along shortly. Bird, Hedge, come.”

Kitty stared at the vacant space he had been standing, feeling more naked than before. Both dogs looked after him, undecided. “Is your Master always so…so…URG!” she clenched her hands. She held out her hands and both dogs came to her, entire bodies wriggling in delight as her fingers took out their frustration on their most itchy spots.

Once both dogs were pools of liquid happiness on the floor she dressed herself, using the mirror to try and lace herself up. “Ready?” She asked the two. Both got up and padded out the door. Unsure where she was headed, Kitty followed the two, who were very obviously leading her somewhere.

Kitty looked around as she walked, interested. Unlike the bedroom, the rest of the house was beautiful, but austere, without Raoul’s distinctive touch. Every room looked like it had been specifically designed to be beautiful - and uninviting.

The dogs scampered into a doorway. Rounding the corner, she inhaled sharply. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed as she entered what was obviously the breakfast room. The room was painted a golden cream color. Mirrors around the room reflected the morning light without blinding. The large table was set with food. Raoul stared at his empty plate, brooding. He barely glanced at her, not rising. Something in her snapped. This was ridiculous. The man was hot as a summers day and cool as a winters night the next. One moment he looked like he was interested and the next he was ignoring her like a serving wench. “Thank you for your hospitality.” She curtseyed, patted both dogs on the head, and walked back out of the room.

“Wait, Ms Chelsey,” he called. When she did not return, she heard the chair scrape. Booted feet followed her. “Stop running away from me.”

“I’m not running, I am walking at a decorous and proper pace.”

“You know very well what I mean.” He grabbed her arm.

“Let me go!” Temper frayed, exhausted, and hurt, she jerked at her arm. She hit his chest weakly with her other fist. “You are intolerable and have no self control and I hate you!” Two low growls made them both look at the dogs, who were looking at their master with eyes gone flat, ears pinned back.

“You are traitors,” Raoul told the dogs in disgust. The smaller male sneezed and bigger male wagged his tail. He looked at her, dark circles under his eyes. “You have no idea how much self control I have,” he ground out, touching a trailing lock of hair at her neck. “Do you think for a moment that I am not attracted to you? Did you think that I will now lay tortured in my own bed where the smell of you lingers, while I dream of you?” She felt her eyes widen, and he looked into them with grim satisfaction.

“You have no love for me. You don’t even know the first thing about me,” Kitty managed, unwanted tears welling in her eyes. “You are cruel to play with me. I have nothing, nothing you could possibly want. I have no family, no connections, no fortune. I am not beautiful, talented, or interesting. No, it is better if you say nothing,” she forestalled him when he tightened his grip and opened his mouth. “I have no family or friends to speak of other than the Duke’s family who have been very kind to me, and my father, who spends his days drinking to stop thinking about my mother! I do not even have a reputation since meeting you!” Jerking out of his now lax grip she wiped at her eyes. “All I can do is beg you to not importune me anymore. I thank you for your kindness in rescuing me, and thank you to leave me alone!”

Kitty stopped at the door, trying to calm herself. “If my father does come, which I doubt, please tell him I am fine and will be at home shortly.”

*~*~*~*

Raoul looked down at his two dogs, who looked back up at him with expressions of disgust. Hedge sighed heavily, laying his massive head on his thick paws and staring after her. Bird went to the door and stared up at the handle expectantly. And now his dogs were as besotted as he was. Wonderful.

Hungry and irritated, he stalked his own front hall, hands clasped behind his back. She was wrong. He did know about her. She liked horses and dogs, and being outdoors. She loved to read but only outside, and hated society as much as him. She…was practical and sweet. He glared at a statue of an ugly dancing angel. Her family wasn’t a disgrace, despite some questionable issues with her parents.

But what was her political views? Did she want children? Those things, no, he did not know. He would have the rest of his life to find out everything about her. Because she was wrong – she was beautiful, intelligent, vivacious and stubborn. He grinned at the thought of her green eyes flashing up at him, hitting his chest. He walked up the stairs to his room and fell face first on his bed, his dogs going to their beds.

She was also right. He was an untenable ass to her. He couldn’t understand why he kept acting that way. Then again, her behavior hadn’t exactly been the model of consistency either. He inhaled her womanly scent. She didn’t use perfumes, and she had a heady natural aroma he found enticing. He found himself hardening, remembering yesterday when she fed him the ice cream. And her touching him. He did so have self control. His own thoughts sounded sulky even to himself. How could she look at him with such stunning sexual confidence, even when looking at his recent weight gain, then the next day treat him like…like…he didn’t even know!

He sat up and buried his face in his pillow, which smelled like her hair. He wanted to do something special for her, he realized. But what? What would she like? His mind raced. A puppy? No. That was not the kind of gift he was looking for. A necklace? Had she ever even worn a necklace?

“Wait a moment,” Raoul grinned. “I have it.” Both dogs looked back at him.


*~*~*~*

Kitty walked into her house. “Fanny?” she called. The old woman tottered out of their drawing room, clutching a wrapped box carefully. “What do you have there?”

“A gift, it says. From Bird and Hedge? Is that a new store?”

Kitty stared at the box, a lump in her throat. “From Bird and Hedge, you say?”

“Aye, that’s what it says.”

Taking the box she brought it up to her room. It was a very large box. Placing it on her bed she stared at it, undecided. She opened the card.

Two large paw prints covered most of the surface area. I know you said it isn’t practical, but please, I beg you, take this as a token of sincere affection and respect for you.

She covered her face, choking back laughter. It was probably a dead cat, if it was from the dogs. This was madness. She should return this. Fingers wriggling above the bow, she finally pulled at the silk. It slipped off. The white box stared up at her. Opening it carefully, she gasped.

Yards of sapphire blue silk looked back at her. Sliding shaking fingers along the smooth surface she closed her eyes. His voice echoed in her mind, exasperated. Are you going to buy that? She remembered her own response. No. It isn’t practical.

She had never owned anything so fine. Carefully, she lifted the bundle and let the material slide along her face. There was a letter at the bottom of the box, and a smaller box. She lifted the smaller box. A pair of pearl earrings were nestled inside. “I can’t accept this,” she breathed, panic setting in. She opened the letter, hands shaking.

Yes, you can accept this, Kitty. If buying you anything the day we picnicked together showed me, it was that you deserve every single piece. I have been wrong so often with you, all I can do is beg your indulgence. I hope to show you a constancy in my character that seems to have been lacking so far.

Kitty looked up at Fanny, who was staring at the material and pearls with surprised admiration. Could he mean…? “Fanny? You were married. Did you love your husband?”

“I was a very lucky woman. We loved each other very much.”

“How did you know? How did you know he loved you?”

Instead of answering Fanny sat beside her, smoothing her hair. “Why? Is the young man who sent this to you bothering your head?”

“Nottingham is the most insufferable man I have ever met!” Kitty exploded. “One moment he is all affection and gentle words, then the next he is as forward and bold as can be! Then the next, he is cold as ice or angry!”

“Nottingham?” Fanny raised her brows. “Raoul Nottingham? My dear, if that boy is anything like his father he will not stop until he has what he wants. Oh yes, I knew his father, and grandfather. Your grandmother took me with her when they used to dine with them. My dear, if a Nottingham has set some sort of design on you, there is no doubt that he wants you. They are a proud, temperamental bunch, but they are utterly devoted. To their family, to their staff, to their animals and their estate. They may seem impetuous but once they set their mind and heart to something they will not give up.”

Kitty looked at her, eyes blurring. She had been so cruel to him and he only treated her with kindness - rescuing her, taking her for a picnic, rescuing her, sending her gifts. Perhaps he wasn't as inconsistent as she had thought...

“Now. Lets get this made into a beautiful dress for you. Blue is a little cold. I think if we add rose pink trimmings it will brighten it up and bring out the pearls.” Fanny looked at her, her blue aged eyes peering at her more sharply than in many months. “I notice you didn’t ask how you would know if you loved him back.” She smiled.
 

Xyantha

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Washing himself in the tepid water from the morning, he avoided the softer parts of his body. “You will do this, coward,” he muttered, rubbing himself off. When his man arrived with his clothes he almost threw a fit and called it off. His slightly thicker thighs and ass bulged in the tight material, while his belly created a gap, showcasing his white shirt between his coat buttons and pants whenever he forgot and relaxed his middle.

Hopping into his curricle he drove himself to the party he knew Kitty would be at. The Duke was a kind man, and always extended him an invitation, if only out of respect for his long dead father. Luckily there were few people on the streets, because the entire ride past in a blur and he couldn’t have recalled anything if his life depended on it. Throwing his reins at the nearest man blindly, he made his way up the stairs and through the throng. There were hundreds of people packing the rooms, and he made his way from one to the next with an increasing sense of urgency.

“Emily!” her voice rang out nearby. Sliding through the crowd, he caught sight of his woman. His heart hammered in his chest, and he felt a grin tighten his cheeks. Her curvaceous form was sheathed in his blue silk, too tight then was appropriate, given her curves. He frowned at the appreciative glances she was receiving. The curve in her waist was highlighted by pink silk, which was also braided into the plunging neckline of her dress. The crowd moved, allowing him to move closer and drink her in more fully.


She was hanging off the arm of a huge man, smiling up at him affectionately. A young woman came up to her, listened to what she had to say, then grabbed Kitty’s hands, squealing in excitement. His gorge rising, he watched the pair. They seemed to natural together, and despite the man’s massive girth Kitty did not seem repulsed at all, actually letting her arm press into the man, flirting. Who was that blob? He would almost have preferred Westmore. And he had thought…stupid…stupid…

Looking to the side he began to melt back into the crowd. “Nottingham!” Westmore called, appearing at his side.

Kitty’s head jerked up, bright green eyes finding him. Unwilling to see any derision on her face he pretended not to see her, looking at the man. “Westmore,” he bowed back. “I say, there are a few too many people in here.”

“You are telling me! I’m thinking of leaving soon myself. This is just foolishness.”

“Why are there so many people here?” Raoul took the glass of wine Westmore handed him, remembering to stand tall and suck in.

“Daughter of the Duke just announced her betrothal to some whats-his-face.”

“Whats-his-face?”

“Do you really care?”

“Not particularly,” Raoul admitted.

Standing closer, Westmore glanced at Kitty Chelsey. “Speaking of reasons, why are you here?” When Raoul spluttered, coughing on his wine, Westmore rolled his eyes. “Come man, you disappear for years, show back up, start socializing in polite society, then show interest in a woman who will undoubtedly turn into a spinster. Or whore, based on that dress. What game are you playing?”

No, he took it back, he would not prefer Westmore. His vision darkened with rage. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, making him feel light headed. This pompous, stuck up, idiot - “And why would Ms. Chelsey turn into a spinster? She is a beautiful young woman, who is charming and funny. She is intelligent enough to hold a conversation with, and has a body any man would be lucky to touch. I would be very much surprised if she did not find a suitor.” He stepped towards the man, who stepped back smartly.

“I couldn’t agree more, though perhaps the woman herself might be embarrassed if we continue to wax eloquent on that particular subject,” a voice said behind him. The man from across the room who Kitty had been talking to was smiling at him.

“Ah, Nottingham, Telford. Telford, Nottingham.” Westmore toasted them both. “I see I shall have to keep my comments to myself in the presence of two such great admirers of the lady.” He bowed shortly, face sour, and took himself off.

Raoul studied the man silently. Bright blue eyes regarded him steadily and merrily. The man’s lips looked like they were constantly smiling or on the verge of it, causing his chubby cheeks to stand out. He looked, well, fat. Big belly, big double chin, thick arms and legs. The memory of Kitty smiling up at this man flashed through his mind, followed by a mental image of these two making love. The man raised his hands, placating. Raoul swallowed hard, realizing he had locked his jaw and had probably been glaring, fists clenched. “You know Ms Chelsey?

“Like a sister,” The man emphasized, grinning when Raoul’s breath expelled sharply. “I am a married man, and no competition to you.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he bit off.

“If one were to consider me a brother to her, I would be forced to concede that I have some very protective urges in regards to her happiness and well being.” Telford told him, looking serious for the first time. “And as a figurative brother, I am noticing some attachment on her side. I would hate for her to have her heart broken. You know the type.”

Growling, Raoul clenched his fists. “I have no intention of breaking anyone’s heart, if that is what you are implying, sir.”

“Perhaps I misunderstood, but I got the impression you showed her remarkable favoritism at one time. She looks very beautiful in that dress tonight, doesn’t she?”

The man did not seem intimidated at all. Most men shrank back when he was this angry. He could feel his pulse pound in his neck. “Come, let us walk,” he ground out, clasping his hands behind his back. Making their way slowly through the room Raoul struggled to get his temper back. “At one time?”

“She seems to think you have reservations. Am I correct in assuming her gift was from you?”

Raoul wanted to howl in frustration and triumph. “She is gravely mistaken on that count. And yes, it was from me.”

Telford frowned. “It isn’t like Kitty to misinterpret. Oh, I approve, don’t you worry! Are you sure you made your interest clear?”

Raoul offered the other man his hand. “Raoul. I appreciate your support, but Kitty does not seem inclined to commit any sort of regard for me.”

“Geoffrey. What you have to realize is that as romantic as Kitty is, she is also very practical. She is twenty five, with little but her charms and looks to recommend her. Her Mother was well liked and respected, despite being headstrong, which is the only reason that she is really allowed into our circle at all.” He looked up at him earnestly. “She knows she needs to find a husband, and will do so even if it injures her pride or any other emotion she might be feeling for another.”

“You have no idea how much I want her,” Raoul tugged at his cravat, breathing faster as the realization of what the other man said hit home. “In my life, in my house, in my –”

“-bed.” The other man laughed. Many people laughed, but not many people did with the simple pleasure of it. Geoffrey had that loud, infectious laughter that made even Raoul smile. “Come. I am infinitely respectable to a matron, being kindhearted, well known, and fat, I am hardly a temptation for the young women.” And it was true. When the phalanx began to form as it had before, Geoffrey suddenly turned into a charmer. Not of young women, but of older women. He laughed, joked, made himself harmless. The only time he had to withdraw his teeth was when one made a comment about Raoul.

Geoffrey looked at her with a kindly expression on his face and simply said “As a gentleman of integrity I have high standards in those I associate with, which is why I seek out your company regularly, madam.” The women all looked confused, trying to interpret whether that was a compliment, or slight.

Taking that opportunity, they slipped up to Kitty’s side. She had their back to them, serving herself some punch. Raoul froze, all the anger draining out of him. He stared at her back, feeling profoundly protective and vulnerable. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, kiss her, soothe her fears and telling her he loved her until he was hoarse. Because he did love her.

Geoffrey looked into his eyes. Whatever he saw made him nod with satisfaction. The man clasped his hand, standing back a few paces as a deterrent to those looking to approach.

(Continued on page two, post 33, of this thread)
 

agouderia

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It's fascinating how you manage to emulate the pre-Freudian tone of period novels, where characters show their authenticity by speaking their mind and acting on impulse, disregarding that many of these emotions and sensibilities are predominantly reserved to the subconscious, even in an open society.
Living in the post-Freudian - believe it or not - world, it at first irritated me when I started reading authors like the Bronte sisters, who strongly used this literary approach until I understood that this was just a very different, truly period way of developing characters.
So - congratulations on your talent in capturing this and can't wait for the next chapters!
 

Xyantha

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It's fascinating how you manage to emulate the pre-Freudian tone of period novels, where characters show their authenticity by speaking their mind and acting on impulse, disregarding that many of these emotions and sensibilities are predominantly reserved to the subconscious, even in an open society.
Living in the post-Freudian - believe it or not - world, it at first irritated me when I started reading authors like the Bronte sisters, who strongly used this literary approach until I understood that this was just a very different, truly period way of developing characters.
So - congratulations on your talent in capturing this and can't wait for the next chapters!
Thank you - I think :) I hope it's not too unsubtle!!

I'm trying to make it as authentic feeling as I can. I'm trying to avoid that "overlord narrator" feeling of the reader being informed of something that the characters themselves didn't know. It's not like these two can just roll into bed after a date and find each other out over the course of months by living together, or just date without pressure like we can today. It always seemed to me in that period if you were interested in a woman you may have a narrow window in which to pursue her if she was on the market (as it were), and that there was so much subtle language that went on day to day that more clear, bold language would have to be spoken on both sides to differentiate that there was a special interest that would be more than the simple flirting thjat was expected with any eligible man/woman.

My boyfriend commented on it when I made him watch pride and prejudice (bbc version all the way!). He said he knew how Bingley felt when he thought he might have missed out on Jane after they left Netherfield. He said that even today attractive women don't stay single long (not that I agree, there are plenty of pretty and stunning single women who can't find the right guy, that was just his verbage!), and if you don't make your interest clear that you might miss your change or sink through the friend threshhold and be just a dude in her life. When he was interested in me I was with another guy, and he only waited a week before asking me out for a drink, and was not subtle in expressing his initial interest or that he was falling in love with me.


Just as an aside..."Large pillows were piled beside the bed, along with a half chewed bone and a mangled dog" were supposed to be "...mangled doll." A mangled dog beside a bed wouldnt rather distrubing...lol.
 

Xyantha

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Sorry for the delay. I have been trying to get the next chapters put together, than my boyfriend had to go into the hospital to get his appendix removed.

Apparently he is "Severely Overweight" at six feet and 240 lbs. They said it caused complications because their instruments had a hard time getting past his belly chub. I'm pretty sure that 240 lbs is not massive, even by general standards, and I am pretty sure that most of north america is overweight by statistics. Maybe they should get longer instruments. :mad:

I'm just polishing the next section. I should have it posted shortly.
 

geekybibabe

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Sorry for the delay. I have been trying to get the next chapters put together, than my boyfriend had to go into the hospital to get his appendix removed.

Apparently he is "Severely Overweight" at six feet and 240 lbs. They said it caused complications because their instruments had a hard time getting past his belly chub. I'm pretty sure that 240 lbs is not massive, even by general standards, and I am pretty sure that most of north america is overweight by statistics. Maybe they should get longer instruments. :mad:

I'm just polishing the next section. I should have it posted shortly.
I hope he makes a quick recovery from the surgery! As for your boyfriend's weight, obviously they need to be able to accommodate someone his size. It makes me glad I've never needed surgery, as I'm far bigger than your boyfriend!

I look forward to the next installment, whenever it comes!
 

Tad

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The great white north, eh?
At that size he’d have a BMI of 32, which even by the crazy standards of the medical community is just mildly into the ‘obese’ range (the line is at BMI of 30). I don’t know how old he is, but looking at one on line calculator, that would put him in the heaviest 5% at age 18, heaviest 10% at age 35. In other words, they should see men his size every day. (I’m assuming North America here, in many other places there are far fewer obese folks).
 

Xyantha

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Sorry for the delay. I tried to wrap up the story too quickly and it just felt too sudden.
 

Xyantha

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Kitty looked deep into the ruby liquid, willing the waves in the cup to stop. Her hand continued to shake, however. Nottingham was here again. He looked so dashing, his hair mussed and in his form fitting clothes. She knew he saw her look at him, and he ignored her. He had just been toying with her. But that didn’t make sense! It didn’t seem consistent. Why would he have sent her a gift just to ignore her?

A radiating warmth soothed her skin and jangled her nerves. She could feel him standing behind her. This was ridiculous. She had told herself at the beginning of the Season that she would marry, even if she did not love her husband. This was no longer about girlish fancy, but about practicality. If this man was willing to propose to her she would accept, regardless of his seeming ups and downs.

She turned slowly. A pair of bright, black, polished boots were standing in front of her, encasing thick, muscular calves. Her eyes slid up. Those shapely calves supported thick thighs, and a slightly straining waistcoat. Grey eyes stared at her with the softest expression she had ever seen in them.

“No,” she whispered, heart thundering. The pupils contracted, the muscles around his eyes tightened. “I can’t take this, I can’t, I can’t. Go away.”

“Kitty, I promise you that I will not let anything else come between us. I am a stubborn man. If you will bear with me and be patient I am sure we can work through this.” If his voice was soft and intimate, it was nothing to his gaze, which caressed lazy circles across her hips, teased at her suddenly heavy breasts.

“You have been like fire and water the past few weeks, and that all the promise that I am to receive?” She felt lightheaded, his scent washing over her.

In one swift move he tugged her towards him, clasping her gloved hands tightly.

“Is there any other promise you need?” he ground out in a gravelly voice. Lifting his head he cleared his throat. Something was pressing against his breeches – his manhood, she realized, feeling faint.

Once, when she was small, she had ventured out into her Uncle’s stallion’s pasture. She had been playing tag with the huge beast, and he had accidentally kicked her in the stomach. That was how she felt now, lightheaded and as if the wind had been knocked out of her.

“Stop it,” she managed, pushing him away.

He stepped back willingly, eyes hooded. “Kitty…”

“And using my given name? Have you no shame? ” Kitty spluttered. She cast her gaze about, feeling her cheeks flame. Such intimacy, was he trying to ruin her? These women would think her a light skirt!

He followed her gaze, Ende but seem unperturbed. He stepped closer to her again, touching her fingers with one of his, sliding the firm pad of his thumb along her wrist. “Do you want me to leave you?” She could see in his eyes that he was very aware that that was the last thing she desired. She shook her head minutely. He raised her hands and kissed them reverently, looking her in the eyes.

“Did you like my gift?” His eyes crinkled impishly when she sniffed at him. “Come now, tell the truth!”

“Obviously,” she mumbled, gesturing to herself and flushing. He looked overly pleased, grinning like a schoolboy.

“Although I have to say that the cut is rather…daring.”

His hungry fingers caressed her palm, while he frowned, obvious jealousy marring his features.

All the tension she had been bearing with since meeting him, being rescued from social disaster and the subsequent attention finally snapped.

“Is it my turn for a question?” she asked sweetly and shyly.

“I suppose it is only fair,” he looked sly. He obviously loved playing this type of game.

“What do you want?” She heard her voice snap. “And don’t say something like ‘you’. My Uncle told me every man wants what his codpiece craves, but that doesn’t mean that your head agrees.”

His head jerked back slightly, eyes opening wide. She pursued her advantage relentlessly, careless of the social protocol. Nicities be damned. “What are your intentions? I don’t have time to muck about and get my heart broken.”

He looked at her as if he has never seen her before, utterly riveted and fascinated.

“Do you always talk like a dockside chit?” he finally asked. Shaking his head he raised a hand. “Never mind.”

Chuckling, he slid his thumb along her wrist again. “So you will be heartbroken…meaning you love me?”

She raised her head and chin, looking away, but all he did was laugh throatily, kissing her knuckles.

“Well….what if told you that I am on the verge of taking you right back to my bed where you belong? And this time I would not be a gentleman.”

Kitty felt herself grow faint, her body appreciating the extra pounds he seemed to have picked up the past couple weeks. He hissed through his teeth, shifting as she looked at him. Kitty slid her arm through his, allowing her forearm to rest slightly on his thickened side.

Then, abruptly, the nervous and moody Raoul was back. Which one was the real Raoul, she wondered. One man certainly could not be so confident one moment and emotional the next.

“Kitty…I don’t know how to say this. I never thought I would say this. I mean, I knew I would have to one day, but I had no idea…”

He rocked a little on his heels. “That is to say…I have formed a serious…I have found myself…”

He gritted his teeth. “Ah, to hell with it. I think I am falling in love with you. You are the most beautiful, intelligent and amazing woman I have ever met. I am utterly, foolishly happy whenever I am with you, and terrified my cowardice would allow me to almost lose you. I love you, and I beg that you relieve my suffering and consent to be my wife.”

She stared at him, then at the bulk of Geoffrey, who was looking interested – and entertained - in the background. The man who she had thought she had loved for years grinned at her and made a kissing gesture, causing her to grin. Her grin faded as she looked back at Raoul, who was, she noticed, beginning to look distinctly distressed by her pause.

She had been determined since childhood that the only matrimonial state she would be party to would be one of love. Unfortunately, recent events, mainly the realization that without marriage she would be alone and destitute, had forced her priorities to change. It dawned on her that she was now struggling to identify what was driving her to accept this man. Was it the security and prestige? Or was it love?

She searched deep within herself, expecting to find feeling of love and guilt for Geoffrey. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that at one time at least she had loved him. The only emotion she felt for her oldest friend and one time idol was now a deep affection and appreciation for his figure. She was attracted to his body, but was not in love with him.

She looked back to the burly man in front of her. Her entire being was suffused with warmth. Right below her rib cage ached, and her stomach tightened. She felt her lips curl as her nipples tightened in response to him. His growing distress elicited a deep feeling of protectiveness and love.

Kitty smiled up at the handsome devil, then bit her lip. “I don’t know…”

Raoul seemed to stop breathing. “Maybe I should torture you a little more so you know how I have felt these past few weeks.”

She stepped closer, looking into his beautiful eyes.

“Is that a yes?” Raoul asked her, sounding strangled.

She grinned at him and shrugged.

“Come now, that isn’t fair!” He nearly whined.

“I love you, I think I may have loved you from the first moment we met.” She finally relented.

His big hands closed about hers, and he pulled her into his side, sliding his hand down to rest on her side with the slow delight of something long desired. A near shudder of desire shivered through her.

Biting her lip, she looked up at him. “Is it supposed to be this….anticlimactic?”

“Anticlimactic?” Raoul spluttered, disbelieving. “I just laid my heart bare after weeks of suffering and you call that anticlimactic?”

“Well, you did not get down on one knee…” she laughed at his indignant look.

“No, it’s just all the stress and fear and nervousness are gone – I just feel completely happy. Content, at peace, just…wonderful.”

Raoul kissed her hand. “I think that is because it is right.”

They looked at each other, grinning foolishly.

“Can I ask you a question?” Kitty paused, already regretting bringing this up.

“Of course.”

“Did I ever…feed you ice-cream?”

He was staring at her as if she had grown two heads. “Never mind, I just had odd dreams after my fall.”

“Yes…you did.” He eyed her oddly.

Kitty groaned, humiliated. “I was hoping that was just a dream – I can’t believe you still proposed after that brazen behavior.”

Raoul threw back his head and laughed. “My dear, society only makes us act like this in public – soon, between us, there will be nothing to hide. I am just glad you are crazy enough to fall in love me and that you are fine with my body.”

Kitty twined her arm with his. “Why would I not be pleased with your body?”

Raoul looked at her. She recognized that look – it was when he always stormed off. This time, to her surprise and delight, he did not. Instead, he curled his arm around her back, hand resting on her hip. “Come. Let us tell your father the news. We do not want to steal the night away from your friend, but I need to get you away from these watching eyes.”

They kept their announcement quiet. Even so Kitty was surrounded the next hour by well wishers and gossip mongers come to get an informed report. It was only when she went out of her way to find a quiet corner that she felt that she could breathe. Fanning herself briskly she inhaled deeply, overwhelmed at the attention, the closeness, and most of all the knowledge that she would be bound to Raoul for the rest of her life. She grinned up at the painted ceiling.

“I suppose you think that you have quite the catch. A title, an estate – yes, you have done well for yourself.” Westmore strolled from behind a door. His tone was spiteful, smug, and disturbingly satisfied.

He clasped his hands behind his chest, obviously struggling not to grin. “I thought it best as a friend that I be the one to inform you that Nottingham isn’t all he appears to be. I have it on good authority that dearest Raoul has been told by his aunt that if he does not marry he will suffer all of the indignities of a dependent nephew.”

Kitty swallowed, looking around. The man made her nervous. Suddenly being all alone was not such a relaxing prospect. She took a step back, raising her chin. “I don’t think I take your meaning, sir.”

Westmore placed each hand on the wall beside her head. “Let me be clear then. Nottingham is marrying you because if he does not marry his aunt will stop supporting his paltry little estate and will cut him from the will. He chose you because you are the only chit that will have him, what with his bloated body and soiled reputation.”

Kitty’s eyes stung.

“You are a liar,” she hissed, staring the man in the face.

His cold, watery eyes stared back, spiteful and lusting, but not deceiving.

“You are a LIAR!” she snapped, pushing ineffectually at him.

He leant his face towards hers.

“Back away, sir!” she snapped.

“What is the meaning of this?” Raoul thundered. A large hand grabbed Westmore and spun the smaller man about. For a moment it looked like he meant to smash his balled fist into the other man’s face. Raoul’s brows were drawn into a dark thundercloud, steely eyes threatening. It seemed to take all of his willpower, but he wrapped both his arms around her. Slowly, he stepped to the side and stared at the man until he slunk off.

“Are you alright?” he asked into her hair. She could feel his heart thundering in his broad chest.

As for herself, she felt numb and drained. His breath was warm and tickled the top of her head. She tilted her head up.

“Why did you choose me?” she asked quietly. A pounding headache was beginning in her temples. “Is it because you needed to secure funds and I was the woman who you could take the least time wooing? Who was enough of a whore?

“That is preposterous!”

“Is it? Did or did not your aunt tell you to marry or she would disown you?”

Raoul’s jaw clenched and unclenched, she could tell by the way his muscles worked.

“Yes, she did inform me of that fact,” he finally ground out. Kitty stared at him, heart squeezing painfully until she thought it might burst. Well. At least she knew where he stood now. This was just going to be a business proposition.

(Continued in post 35 of this thread)
 

Xyantha

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“Yes, she did inform me of that fact. But do you think for a second that I would settle?”

He shook her gently when she did not answer and refused to look at him. “Look at me.”

He slid a gentle finger under her chin.

“I love you. I love you,” he repeated, as if the repetition would make her believe.

“Circumstances … are what they are. Perhaps for a woman those circumstances are more expected. You had to marry to secure your fortune – and I had to marry to secure mine. We were both fortunate enough that we found someone to like and respect in that bargain. Why do you doubt so easily?” He looked down at her, eyes open and sincere.

This was where he would storm off, normally. Again, to her surprise, he had stayed. He was holding her so tightly she could barely breathe. One large hand was cradling the nape of her neck, his thumb running over her throat. The other was in the small of her back. It was causing her back to arch, forcing her into the globe of his softened tummy. It was making it difficult to think. “I don’t know. I don’t doubt. I just…question.”

He chuckled, rolling his eyes.

“Arguing semantics, are we?” as he laughed his belly bounced against her slightly.

“Do you trust me? Yes? Then the next time you ask me something, just try to assume that it is not something horrible. Do you think that you are so unworthy as to have landed yourself a decent man?” He grinned at her.

“Yes.” It slipped out. Her candor took them both aback. Raoul’s grin slowly faded, his hand tightening, pulling her closer.

“Well, stop it.” He placed his lips on hers. “Do you feel worthy?”

“No,” she pouted, lips tingling.

“No?” he queried, eyebrow raised. This time his lips danced across hers, sucking. His tongue slowly dipped into her mouth. “And now?”

It took her a moment to respond, because all of the breath seemed to have vacated her lungs.

“Uh, no?” she half asked.

White teeth flashed against his swarthy skin before his mouth descended on hers, ravaging her, demanding her response. When he pulled away he was almost fully supporting her dead weight. “Well?”

Kitty considered for a few moments, lips pursing.

“No, definitely not,” she said seriously, shaking her head and wrapping her arms around about his neck for another round.

Raoul laughed until he had to support himself on his knee.

“You are insufferable!” he scolded affectionately. He trailed a gentle finger down her cheek.

“Believe me when I tell you that I love you.” He hugged her so tightly her only reply was “hee-EEEEEEP!” as air rushed from her lungs.

- - - - -

Kitty lay on the bed between Bird and Hedge, trying to stay awake to stare at her gorgeous husband silhouetted in the light coming from the open window. The past two months had been a blur. The small intimacies allowed to an engaged couple had only fueled her fervent desire for him. There had been many breakthroughs in their trust for one another, but there were still setbacks. They were both strong willed and enjoyed having a good row. Even with the occasional flash of irritation, she had felt only increasing respect for him as she learned more of his personality. He really was the most dedicated man she had ever met. To his dogs, servants – everyone.

After the wedding ceremony they had driven straight from the church to his – now their – estate, with her wedding gift trotting behind. The drive itself had taken the entire day and into the next, and was utterly exhausting. Kitty spent most of the drive touching her new husband in small, intimate ways, enjoying the privilege. A few times she was sure – with giddy anticipation – her husband might take her womanhood right in the carriage, from the way he was touching and kissing her.

Her husband’s dedication was apparent in his tenants, who all hailed him with good cheer as he passed. In each little miniature village he would stop, greet each by name, and listen intently to their needs and concerns. In each, as soon as they learned he was just married they let out a raucous laugh and hurried him on his ways with such lewd comments that made Kitty’s ears burn.

The entire thing was surreal – the wedding itself had been unimportant, it was the knowledge she was bound to this man that had made her anxious. And she had been wrong when she said he didn’t know her. He constantly surprised her with the little things. Just the morning of the wedding, instead of driving off in a carriage after the ceremony, they had exited the church to two matching, pure black stallions. “Your wedding gift,” he had said simply, carefully setting her on one of the large animal’s backs.

Tonight, they had dined together in the privacy of their personal dining room after the wedding. It felt heady to be so intimate. Unable to eat herself because of the flickering want and gnawing nervousness in her stomach, she instead fed him both of their dinners. The thought of finally coming into her womanhood was filling her with butterflies, and focusing on her husband – the thought made her squeal in delight in her own mind - calmed her.

Raoul leaned back and stared at her under well-fed and mildly resentful lashes. His belly, now round enough to be called one, begged for her hands to touch it.

“You are going to make me the size of a house,” he groused. “I can’t keep up with this onslaught of food whenever I am around you.”

“You are not going to be the size of a house!” Kitty laughed, exasperated.

“Oh, I am. My stomach is going to be so big I will need a servant and wheelbarrow to cart it about.”

His lips twitched as she laughed.

“Do be serious – I am not a young man anymore, and I do not want our new love to blind you to the changes in my body.”

Kitty knelt beside him, slowly placing her hands on his middle. “But I do love your body.”

“You are a good woman.” His voice was unsure.

“No, I am not a good woman.”

He raised a brow, looking down at her from his chair. From this angle his adorable new little double chin peeked over his cravat at her. Biting her lip, she undid the knot carefully, caressing his neck, and then collar bone as she undid the small button on the neck of his shirt.

“I am a very bad woman.” She slowly undid the buttons on his waistcoat. The button clinging to his straining middle was the hardest to undo. She struggled for a moment before poking him in the stomach, giving him a mock dirty look.

“Stop sticking it out!” Her finger sunk in before meeting warm resistance. She slid her fingers under the waistcoat to give herself some more room to play with.

“I am not,” he stated flatly. He inhaled, trapping her fingers between the button and his giving flesh.

She inadvertently moaned, swaying forward and resting her chest on his knees as her knees weakened. A small part of her mind realized how odd it was, for her to be so unsure socially while he was so accomplished, but anything sexual between them was so easy for her and seemingly so difficult for him.

Raoul jerked back slightly at her moan.

“Sorry,” he muttered , sucking in and quickly undoing the offending button.

Ignoring his obvious insecurity, Kitty slipped onto his lap, looking at his handsome face. Leaning forward, she kissed his warm lips awkwardly. He responded, chucking slightly, causing his middle to jerk a little. Thoroughly enjoying the feeling, she scooted closer and began trailing kisses around his mouth and along his jaw line. Finding the softened flesh of his chin she nibbled slightly.

He pulled his head back, causing the little roll to stick out more. He gave her an odd look. “I have a sneaking suspicion that I married a crazy woman.”

“Crazy for you,” she teased back. The wine she had drunk on an empty stomach was causing her to flush and feel giddy. She felt his hand slide up her skirt and onto her thigh. His hand was large and slightly rough on her delicate skin, a burning brand. Feeling naughty, she tugged his shirt from his breeches and slid her cool hands up his chest. A little bit of coarse hair tickled her palms as she slid the fabric higher.

“Mmm.”

His stomach was much paler than his hands and face. It was softly rounded, arching away from his softening pectorals and pushing out until its thickest point, just around his belly button. A few hairs surrounded the dark and inviting hole. Sticking her tongue between her teeth she slid her index finger into the hole up to her first knuckle. She shivered in delight and swept her other hand along his stomach in fascinated delight. His skin was incredibly soft, and covered in silvery marks, which were slightly puckered. She traced her finger along one. “What are these?”

Raoul looked very uncomfortable. His head was twisted to one side, and he was obviously sucking in his stomach. He looked down at his own stomach.

“Marks from when I used to be fatter.” He said, voice tinged with bitterness.

“You used to be fatter?” She blurted. The thought of him bigger made her knees go week. Her dream of feeding him until he grew round flashed into her mind.

“Hard as that is to imagine, yes.” He pulled her hands to his chest, but they inevitably found their way back to his rounded middle.

“You really are crazy,” he accused her.

Kitty sipped his wine, giggling.

“And drunk. Maybe that is why you have gone crazy. Is there ‘crazy’ in that wine?” Raoul teased, tickling her. She giggled and kicked, but he swept her off her feet and carried her upstairs. She only had a moment of warning in the form of a naughty schoolboy expression before he dropped her. Her screech was muffled by her impacting his bed. She was up again in an instant, reaching for him determinedly.

“I’m going to kill you!” she laughed, ripping off his coat.

“Well that would be a waste of a perfectly good wedding! I thought carrying you upstairs was romantic – now that we are married is the romance supposed to end?” Raoul’s dexterous fingers flew along her buttons as he kissed her neck and breasts.

It was hard to feel self conscious when he was looking at her like she was a dream come true.

“Do you like?” she asked, surprised her voice was as unsure as a child’s. He only groaned in response, kissing her nipples and stomach. She tugged off his shirt, and he raised his arms over his head to assist. His arms were incredibly thick and muscular. His chest was obviously muscular, but had an irresistible layer of softness on his chest that she just had to touch. She let her palms wander across, then under his arms and onto his back.

“What are you doing?” Raoul mumbled against her lips. His eyes her locked with hers, his body gone stiff.

“Wha-?” Kitty pulled back slightly and released her ecstatic grip on his back fat, flushing.

Raoul squinted at her, twisting an arm behind him to feel the roll.

“I had no idea those had come back,” he muttered self consciously. “I’ll have to fix that. You don’t mind, do you? I mean for now?”

His face looked so vulnerable Kitty held it between her hands.

“Whatever are you talking of?” She closed her lips over his, sucking on his lower lip like he had done to her in the past. It always distracted her, hopefully it would do the same for him. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was doing or if she was any good at this, but something seemed to be pushing her forward. The thought of him between her thighs was utterly delicious.

“I’ve gotten rather soft the last few months. I just want you to know that I won’t let it continue,” he mumbled, lower lip trapped between her lips. “I don’t want it to be a problem –”

“Oh, do shut up,” Kitty cried. “Always with the weight! Too fat, too soft – have you ever considered that I might enjoy your body?”

She pushed away from him, standing on the bed and glaring at him with her hands on her hips. “You told me after you proposed that I wasn’t to call myself anything negative – well the same goes for you! This is supposed to be my wedding night for Gods sake!”

Raoul chuckled and buried his face in her soft stomach. His warm tongue in her navel caused her to groan and sway. He laid her on the bed and worked her up and down until she was giddy. It took every ounce of her self control not to grab onto the gorgeous fat that was oh so inviting under his skin. She carefully slid her hands along his sides with only her palms. Whenever she got near any of his softer areas he would make a face, pull her hands, away, or flinch and mutter.

The only area she seemed to be able to rub within reach was his arms and the middle of his back. Her arousal faded with concentration, focusing on kneading his muscles. Despite her own enjoyment fading, whatever she was doing seemed to please him. When he slowly started to slide his member inside her she shivered and moved experimentally. The friction hurt, and there was only time to realize it was warm and firm inside her before discomfort before it turned into pain.

“Ow ow ow ow ow,” she cried, pushing at the heavy man on top of her frantically.

He looked at her, kissing her gently. “Shh…It will stop hurting soon…”

Kitty stared at him and squirmed away, tears leaking down her face as her muscles tensed, causing more pain.

“Why does it hurt?” she demanded, hands trying to lift him off ineffectually.

“Didn’t your Mother…?” He braced himself on one arm, still inside her. “Kitty, it will hurt only this once. The next few times will hurt less, and eventually you will feel only pleasure.”

“I don’t want to do this ever again!” She cried empathetically.

*~*~*~*

Raoul realized she was starting to panic and cast about for a way to distract her. Self consciousness warred with his desire to please her. He had more than a sneaking suspicion of what would turn her on. Taking her hand, he guided it to his stomach, beside his navel where the deepest fat lay. Fingers over her own, he made her squeeze a handful. Her response was immediate and unmistakable. Her gorgeous green eyes rolled backwards in her head and her hips moved into his. Swallowing hard, fascinated, he raised himself up slightly. Placing one hand on his own stomach, he moved it back and forth, the roll jiggling against her lightly. Sharp nails fastened onto the flesh of his back, both arousing and hurting. Her hips ground into him and she groaned so loudly he was sure the servants could hear. Thank god.

He did not have the fascination with virgins some men had. There was nothing wonderful about causing a beautiful woman pain. Even when he was younger he chose widowed matrons and other experienced women. There was a marked difference between Kitty and other women, and it was not only that he adored her. She knew what she liked. Her hands groped and squeezed his flesh almost painfully until she had cried out for relief and received it several times in a row. Finally, he rolled off her, carefully cleaning her and himself with a damp cloth. She kissed him slowly, hands resting on his middle.

“I think there really was crazy in that wine,” he muttered under his breath. He hunted for his shirt self consciously.

She giggled and luxuriated in the soft sheets, heavy lidded eyes examining each inch of his exposed glistening skin.

“I love you, Kitty.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “You are everything I could want or need.”

She mumbled at him in response. She was still exhausted from their journey. He tucked her in carefully, finding it difficult to stop looking at her beautiful face, dark lashes fanning across her cheeks, lips parted slightly. When he finally did, two black noses and two sets of dark brown eyes examined him over the edge of the bed. He had never let the dogs on his bed before, but his wife seemed to want them with her always.

“You may,” he told the two, and they jumped up, settling on either side of her as if they had done so since they were puppies.

He paced to his bedroom window, staring out across his well maintained grounds. The most difficult part of his entire relationship with Kitty was still ahead. Meeting his Aunt, who held the entirety of his future fortune in her wizened hands.

‘Marry or you will receive nothing,’ she had told him, and marry he had. Now he only had to worry that she found his choice acceptable, and that Kitty did not think that his main reason for marrying her. She still seemed to doubt it occasionally. The latter was far more emotionally upsetting, but the former gnawed at his responsible side. How would be care for his tenants without his Aunt’s fortune? The three year drought a few years back had nearly decimated his crops and animals, and it would take years to recover, perhaps never, without her assistance. The sign of prosperity slowly bulging farther at his waist was something he wanted for all of his tenants as well – he could not let them starve.

Thinking about that was far easier than trying to comprehend the odd delight his wife seemed to have for his body.

(continued in post 43 of this thread)
 
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I'm so glad you're still working on this! The characters are perfectly detailed and your period touches are fantastic. I await your next installment with bated breath! :bow:
 

Undine

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Bumping this and...

...begging for more? Pretty, pretty please?
 

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