- Adrienne was an avid reader. In fact, the only room in her home that had more books than her room was the library. And she had read all of the books of any interest in both rooms. She had grown bored and had made a special trip into town to find a few more books to entertain her free time when her house was empty.
She moved through Whizzhard Books with a grace and sophistication that often accompanied her wherever she went. Her hips swayed back and forth as she browsed the aisles. One arm was up, long fingers extended to caress the spines of each book she passed, almost in a seductive manner. She exhaled slowly, perfectly at ease surrounded by the smell of pages and ink. Her hand cruised over one title, raised slightly against the leather and written in her native language. Guerre des Roses, meaning War of the Roses. She had no idea what the book was about, but the pure fact that the title was French interested.
Carefully, she worked her fingers around the spine and pulled it from the shelf. Holding it carefully under her arm, she moved to one of the many arm chairs lining the shop and lowered herself into it.
She pulled one leg up under her, crossing the other over at the knee, hidden beneath her skins. A deep exhale and she opened the book in her lap, beginning to read. As usual, she was immediately absorbed, unaware of anything going on around her.
The book shop was the one place that was not a total waste of Cage's time to frequent, as far as his business interests went. He enjoyed the store, and the storeowner would let him be the first to know if any interesting or odd books came to the store. Cage was a frequent visitor, almost as frequent as his visits to the Hog's Head in truth, and the proprietor surely owed Cage a tenth of his earnings for all the books that he bought.
Cage did not, however, expect to see a one Miss Adrienne de Marque in the Whizzard Bookstore that morning.
Cage had settled in one of the large leather chairs, peering into the pages of an old book on werewolves, a fairly small volume with intricate illustrations and critiques within the pages. Cage loved the little eccentrics of the books in this store, more books to add to his collection. However, he looked up as he heard another soul perch in one of the oversized leather chairs.
He looked up, to be greeted with none other than Miss de Marque, and he supressed a chuckled at the fact that she was in the bookstore herself. She didn't seem to be one for such...frivolous things, as many women called them. He coughed slightly.
"Well, Miss de Marque. We meet again, I see," he spoke in an amused tone, his eyes still trained on his books. "Do tell me the subject of what you read. Or is it too naughty for public consumption? You do seem liek the time of woman who would read such things." He smirked, still looking down at his book.
Adrienne started slightly when a very familiar voice spoke to her. She lifted her eyes to gaze over to top of the book, seeing none other than Cage Wakefield poised in a leather chair not too far from her. She arched her brows at him, surprised to see him here. Cage never struck her as a reader, more of a...doer.
She rolled her eyes at him before returning her eyes back to her book. "Well, if you consider the French Wizarding Wars of 1156 inappropriate reading material, then yes, that is exactly what I'm reading." She drawled back, a small smirk on her face. She finished the page she was on and tipped the edge of the next page, closing the book and setting it aside. She then stood, sauntering towards him.
Once she was close enough, she perched herself on the arm of his chair, looking down at him with a small smirk on her features. "Though I didn't ever peg you, of all people, as the reading type." Her eyes scanned him quickly before continuing. "You always seemed the type to want to get under frivolous things instead of in them."
She knew that her words could be taken one of two ways, and that was how she planned it. Now only to see which way he took it.
Regardless of her reading material, Adrienne de Marque was a tartly woman. Her teasing voice and curvaceous body perched on his chair arm pulled out reactions in Cage that were familiar, but all too thrilling as well. She was interesting, and dangerous and he knew it. And by God he did love it.
Cage didn't look up from his book as she spoke to him teasingly, his eyes glancing over words on the page and his voice taking a very disinterested and aloof tone.
"When it comes to all manner of frivolous things," he crooned out casually, "I like to study everything I can about them. Under, over, around and inside them." He finally looked up with a challenging glance at Adrienne as he closed his book, setting down on the table next to his arm and stroking his stubbled chin gently.
She was a beautiful woman, even in the more respectable clothing she wore today, considering the last time he saw her was in the lingerie shop. Cage smirked slightly as he lowered his voice. "I find that books are much like women. Many complicated chapters that tie into one beautiful subject. And it is naturally my job to study those pages. Figure out the subject." He'd never equated sex to reading before, but really anything could be equated to sex if you tried hard enough.
"I continue to wonder what your subject is, my dear," he continued, picking up another book he'd been interested and sounding aloof all over again. And she could take that how she wanted.
Adrienne smirked, biting down gently on her bottom lip and allowing her brows to roll up into an arch. "Is that so?" She asked curiously, hardly affected by his bawdy talk. She had gotten used to it, especially around him. To be honest, it took a lot to make her really blush anymore.
When he went about comparing women and books, her expression turned from one of flirtation to surprise. While the comparison was very good, she did accept that you could compare any two things if you tried hard enough. "Bravo." she replied, her smirk returning once more. "Were you up all night coming up with that one or did you just come up with that?" She teased. While she would give him credit for the wonderful metaphor, she would hardly allow him to get away with just the applause.
She then shifted slightly as he picked up another book, her smirk widening slightly. "The uninterested virgin." She purred in reply, picking up the book he had been reading and beginning to read it instead.
"As surprising as it may be to you, my dear," Cage replied airily, "I happen to have a way with words. Mind yourself. I have spent more time on this earth than you my dear. I have more wisdom than you would give me credit for." The amusement was clear in his voice as he continued to pore over the novel in his hands absently. It was interesting enough, and he would end up buying both of the volumes he'd picked up, but he was much more interested in the tartly woman as his elbow now.
"Uninterested?" he mused. "I believe 'The In Denial Virgin' is much more appropriate. Or Stubborn Innocent." Cage laughed softly, grateful for the tiny aclove they were in. Most people didn't take to spending much time in the book store, and hence they were unlikely to be disturbed, not that it would bother Cage anyway. He was very little shame anymore.
"One wonders if you have even been truly kissed. Not some fumbling, forbidden kiss in a hallway at Hogwarts, or a chaste kiss under the mistletoe. But an honest to God kiss." Cage looked back at her, a brow raised a bored smirk on his face. "And I would wager that you haven't."
Adrienne rolled her eyed and brought her arms up to cross them over her chest, just under her bust. "Oh yes, I forgot how old you are, Mr. Wakefield." She teased in reply, leaning in a little closer to observe him with sharp eyes. Of course, Cage was not that old, heavens, he was many years younger than Mr. Elkins, but that would hardly stop her from teasing him. "You're already starting to get crow's feet around your eyes."
She considered a new title for a moment, a smirk still on her face. "How about 'The Proper Tart'?" She asked, delighted that their little alcove was shut off from the rest of the shop, giving her ample opportunity to lean in even closer, but still not enough for it to be too much. She played the game she had played so many times before, but it was fun to play it with someone who knew how to play it back.
"A real kiss? You mean one of those that leaves your heart racing and takes your breath away? No, I never have." She stood from her position the arm of his chair to go to the door that would close off their little sanctuary. She bent at the waist, her back to him, and pulled the stopper out from the door. She slowly closed the door before turning back towards him. She sauntered back across the room towards him, moving to take up her position back on the arm of the sofa.
She slid down into his lap, her back against one arm and her legs hooked over the other, looking up at him. "Would you wish to remedy that for me, Mr. Wakefield?" She asked, her brows arched suggestively.
Cage was about to retort to her comment on being a proper tart before he noticed her slither over to the door and let it close. He watched as she challenged him visibly, sliding into his lap as though it was natural to do so. His brow rose high and he looked down at her, pursing his lips slightly. On he wanted to kiss the smirk right off her face, but he'd have his fun first.
Cage leaned up and picked Adrienne up with ease, standing and setting her down on her feet in front of him.
"It is hardly appropriate for you to make such a request madame," Cage chastised. He took a very stern look on his face, but his dark eyes twinkled with mirth even as he teasingly berated her.
"After all, it's even less appropriate to do so in the lap of a man with a reputation such as mine. In a closed off room. HAve you no propriety at all? Or do you tease men into thinking you are an innocent to have your own fun madame?" He was baiting her again, the challenge set in his eyes. But if she would rise to it was the question.
Adrienne's eyes widened slightly as she was picked up and set back on her feet. She looked down at him curiously before taking up the appearance of a whipped puppy as he teasingly chastised her. She allowed her eyes to widen slightly and her bottom lip to pout out slightly.
She looked down at her feet, keeping up the same appearance, clasping her hands on the front of her skirt and remaining quiet. "My brothers borrowed my propriety and never gave it back." She replied softly, teasing as well, but playing her part as she was supposed to.
She then moved back to her chair, putting up the space between them once more and picking up the book she had been reading. "Well, you were the one who mentioned it as if it was wrong. What am I to think, Mr. Wakefield?" She opened her book and pretended to read once more, her eyes scanning the pages slowly.
Now all there was to do was wait and see how he responded to her play. She had moved out her bishop, playing the pity party, and it was time to see if he moved his bishop to match hers in this game of mental chess.
Cage let her settle and wander back to her seat, playing her cards as she wished, but he was biding his time. He wanted to more than kiss that smirk off her face now. Lust was what he felt for Miss de Marque, and it was slightly wronger than usual, as she was an innocent, but what was a little fun and game when they both seemed to enjoy it so much?
"Miss de Marque, when I want to kiss a woman, I do so on my own terms. And in this case, you continue to bait me and play your own cards against mine. Innocent you may be, but naive you most certainly are not." Cage laughed and stepped closer to her, bracing his arms on the arms of her chair now and leaning in close, the space between them very little indeed. He looked over her face, a gentle smirk upon his own, a challenge in his eyes.
"I do wonder what your pages contain my dear," he crooned out, reaching forward with a hand and stroking her chin, lifting her head up slightly, as though he might kiss her. But he did not yet. He wanted to set her off balance, to make her guard crumble for a moment. An uninhibited response only came from such a woman, who was made to think that her guard was useless against a man such as Cage.
And it was.
His voice was softer when he spoke again, his face so close to hers he could feel her breath. "You're hardly playing a game you know anything about, Miss de Marque." And then he leaned forward and kissed her, a passionate clash and smooth, but hard movement between their lips. He held her chin in a firm, but gentle fashion, daring to run his tongue along her lips and urge her to part her mouth to deepen the kiss. Once he pulled back, he looked down at her, a mysterious expression on his face. Even he wasn't sure what he was thinking.
Just as she knew he would, Cage stood and moved towards her. She could hear the soft swish of his jacket against the chair as he moved to his feet, coming closer to her and placing his hands on the arms of her chair, effectively caging her in. She lifted her eyes to look up at him, closing her book and setting it aside for the moment.
She lifted her chin slightly as his fingers stroked it softly. He leaned in and she lifted her face a little more, her eyes going half lidded and her lips parting slightly, ready for him to kiss her. But he didn't...not yet. She waited, her heart rate increasing until she could nearly feel it in her throat.
He leaned in even closer if that was possible, close enough that she could now feel her own breath reflecting off his skin and back at her. But finally he did kiss her, a passionate but gentle action that caused her to moan softly into his lips when he did. Her hands grasped his wrists where they sat on the chair, opening her mouth to deepen the kiss when her tongue coaxed it open.
She leaned in towards him when he moved to pull away, only stopping when he was too far away for her to continue following his mouth. She swallowed hard and opened her eyes, not realizing until then that she had closed them. The look on his face was much like her own. Even she was unsure what she was thinking at the moment.
Every thought screamed in unison in her head, all begging for different things. She exhaled hard and continued to simple gaze at him, not trusting her own mouth to say anything.
The innocent expression of Miss de Marque as he pulled back tugged at Cage, and he felt his consience (what little of one he had) bubble to the top. But then, he damned his conscience and took Adrienne by her hands, pulling her up against him again.
It was wrong, to want her curves pressed so delicately to his. And it was equally wrong, even by his standards, to think and want such things from an innocent young lady. But something about Adrienne struck every thought he'd ever had stupid, and he found himself reaching for her, securing her against him, and kissing her again.
He deepened his kiss hastily, but not in an angry or hard manner. He coaxed her mouth open again, but kissed her with less restraint, less composure this time. He tasted her, as his hands secured her beautiful curves up against his body, and he could hardly help himself as he found his hands wandering to her subtle curves.
He stopped himself as he pulled away, but his hands were still incriminating, tucked away in the curves of this balsted woman. And he wasn't much sure what to think of his own actions.
"Miss de Marque," he spoke softly, though he wasn't sure what else to say. He gazed at her dark eyes, eyes that mirrored his own dark color, and he sighed, waiting for what she would do. She should have run away from him, but by God, he didn't want her to.
Adrienne gasped as she was pulled back to him quickly. She disentangled her hands from his and wrapped her arms tighter around him. She kissed him back just as heatedly, pressing her full, curvy figure against him.
His hands on her served to heat him up more and more as time passed, causing her to gasp and her skin to shiver under his touches. Soon, her dress became stifling, enough that she could feel herself beginning to perspire under her dress.
She was wrapped up in his arms, so close that she was sure he would be able to feel her heart racing even between all the layers of clothing and skin that covered it. She wanted to pull away, but at the same time, she could not get enough of his touch and of his taste.
When he pulled back from her mouth, she was left gazing up at him desperately. "Mr. Wakefield...I fear I shall faint." She whispered softly, still breathing hard.
The warmth between them was sinful as it was enjoyable, though Cage made no move to release her. He had never been so adverse to sin, though he did have his own morals, however deeply buried that they were. He looked down at her as she admitted to her faint feeling in her head, and Cage's own mirrored that, though he would hardly admit to it. He chalked it up to lust and nothing more, and he hardly wanted to marry her, so he should have released himself from the innocent maiden in that instant.
However, he just could not.
"Should you faint, I would catch you," he crooned out softly. Cage reached to trace her soft face and he looked at her, shaking his head as he forced himself to disentangle them. He released her and paced, his hands behind his back, and then he looked at her for a long moment, admiring her face more than her body in that instant.
"You will make a fine wife to someone someday," Cage spoke, his mind trying to to damage control. He already felt too much for Miss de Marque, and hardly in a chaste way as friends. He cared for her, more deeply than he had any other, but his care for her and his lust for her were hardly connected. And they complicated each other.
Adrienne allowed him to simply hold her for a long moment, still breathing hard and looking up at him with wide, dark eyes. After a moment he let go of her and she allowed it, stepping back to take a deep breath and try to calm herself down. She smoothed her hair carefully with her hands, trying to look composed once more.
She watched him pace before flopping back down into the chair behind her. She was still hot under all the layers that composed the dress she wore, and she picked up a small book from the table beside her to fan herself and try to relieve some of the heat.
Eyes gazed upon him carefully, watching him. "Is this your way of telling me that can never happen again?" She asked curiously, slightly worried that she had hit the nail on the head. She knew this could never happen again...on purpose...In the heat of the moment was a totally different matter.
Cage himself felt disheveled and restless on the inside, and he paced for a moment longer before pausing to look at her as she sat in the chair. She was so innocent, so realistically off limits for him that he couldn't help but feel drawn to her. And he sighed at her words, smiling crookedly. Cage couldn't help but to saunter over and brace his arms on the chair that she sat in.
He peered at her lovely face, a face of perfection and upper class aristocracy, and he smirked slightly. "That's my way of telling you it shouldn't ever happen again." Cage leaned in impulsively and kissed her anyway, cradling her face for a moment before pulling back with a sigh of breath, looking down at her. She was just such a kissable thing, and it was surely a sin to be so tempting. Instead of reamaining close to her he leaned back and reached for his jacket, tugging it on.
"I have no doubt that we shall...meet again soon Miss de Marque," Cage offered quietly. He laid his hand on her face, rubbing his thumb across the cheekbone there for a long moment. She was beautiful perfection. Though he was sure he'd kick himself later for being so enamored.
"Adieu," he spoke before pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek and grasping the bowler that hung behind her off the back of the chair. He smoothly put it upon his head as he left the room, leaving his mind in a whirlwind. A tormenting, masochistic, sinful whirlwind.
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