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ambitious_womanThis is actually a story I wrote some time ago, so long ago many might not have read it. Some of you might remember it. The point of the repost? On December 29th 1721 Jeanne Antionette Poisson was born, and this seemed the best way to mark the deal of a very real, very special woman.
Happy Birthday Reinette.
She was warm. Deliciously so.
And while Reinette normally eschewed the habit of allowing taste to define the sensation of touch, the notion was an appropriate one. Her body was cocooned in heat, humming through her limbs until it sat like cinnamon just under her tongue. Feet pointed, then flexed of their own accord, kneading silk, satin and down bedding into something even softer. Reinette buried deeper into her sheets, enjoying the sweet friction where warm met warmer still.
A glance at the fireplace should have brought confusion. The heating of Versailles seemed to required even more attendants then even the king himself, and somehow it the course of the evening? It had gone out. An empty blackness yawned that Reinette simply chose not to think on in that moment.
Because there was the warmth.
Only it came from behind her, not before her.
Reinette found a way to bring herself closer to the warmth, the movement conscious and precise. Even in the hazy dominion of almost-sleep, she was nothing if not in control. Reinette smiled at the muffled sound that followed, a sweet hiss of satisfaction. It was not her own.
The golden arch of an eyebrow lifted kissed the outline of her pillow. Then, a smile.
"Are you really there, or have you managed to claim my dreams as your kingdom as well?"
She did not turn around, even as Reinette felt familiar lips against the back of her neck.
"I am really here," his voice echoed the warmth of everywhere else. "I would hope that is obvious by now." There was a teasing shift of hips that they mutually ignored for the time being. There was comfort here, intermingled with the heat. They had time.
Still she did not turn around.
"I do not understand."
"Must you?"
There was a moment where neither spoke. Of course she must understand. Of course.
"What of your attendants? Your Master of Chambers?" One look at the window and she knew it was well past dawn. "There are expectations. They will ---"
"Hush."
His mouth had moved significantly closer to her ear. The single word seemed, for a moment, unending. But she was also determined.
"They will be waiting. And there are reasons why is four years we have never once awoken in the same bed together. Approximately eight of them, I believe. All male. And all of them waiting in your chambers, to perform the duties they see as their by right. To wake their King. Such a pity I know them personally, or I might even suggest they were handsome and --"
"I said hush."
His hand made its way to her hip. It was sweet, tender and achingly familiar. Her own breath brought the two of them closer as Reinette considered the childish notions of wishes and possibility.
"Now. Are you going to manage to listen to me on this occasion, or will I be required to find a more creative way to gain your attention.
Reinette finally turned, their eyes meeting. He smiled, then spoke.
"Happy Birthday."
Happy Birthday Reinette.
She was warm. Deliciously so.
And while Reinette normally eschewed the habit of allowing taste to define the sensation of touch, the notion was an appropriate one. Her body was cocooned in heat, humming through her limbs until it sat like cinnamon just under her tongue. Feet pointed, then flexed of their own accord, kneading silk, satin and down bedding into something even softer. Reinette buried deeper into her sheets, enjoying the sweet friction where warm met warmer still.
A glance at the fireplace should have brought confusion. The heating of Versailles seemed to required even more attendants then even the king himself, and somehow it the course of the evening? It had gone out. An empty blackness yawned that Reinette simply chose not to think on in that moment.
Because there was the warmth.
Only it came from behind her, not before her.
Reinette found a way to bring herself closer to the warmth, the movement conscious and precise. Even in the hazy dominion of almost-sleep, she was nothing if not in control. Reinette smiled at the muffled sound that followed, a sweet hiss of satisfaction. It was not her own.
The golden arch of an eyebrow lifted kissed the outline of her pillow. Then, a smile.
"Are you really there, or have you managed to claim my dreams as your kingdom as well?"
She did not turn around, even as Reinette felt familiar lips against the back of her neck.
"I am really here," his voice echoed the warmth of everywhere else. "I would hope that is obvious by now." There was a teasing shift of hips that they mutually ignored for the time being. There was comfort here, intermingled with the heat. They had time.
Still she did not turn around.
"I do not understand."
"Must you?"
There was a moment where neither spoke. Of course she must understand. Of course.
"What of your attendants? Your Master of Chambers?" One look at the window and she knew it was well past dawn. "There are expectations. They will ---"
"Hush."
His mouth had moved significantly closer to her ear. The single word seemed, for a moment, unending. But she was also determined.
"They will be waiting. And there are reasons why is four years we have never once awoken in the same bed together. Approximately eight of them, I believe. All male. And all of them waiting in your chambers, to perform the duties they see as their by right. To wake their King. Such a pity I know them personally, or I might even suggest they were handsome and --"
"I said hush."
His hand made its way to her hip. It was sweet, tender and achingly familiar. Her own breath brought the two of them closer as Reinette considered the childish notions of wishes and possibility.
"Now. Are you going to manage to listen to me on this occasion, or will I be required to find a more creative way to gain your attention.
Reinette finally turned, their eyes meeting. He smiled, then spoke.
"Happy Birthday."
