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pretend; tag; William Parr
Topic Started: Sep 26 2010, 01:34 PM (312 Views)
William Parr
Unregistered

"I would seek an annulment no matter what my view of my reputation," snapped William, unable to rest thanks to the harridan beside him in bed. "You are an unfaithful wife. Even now, you leave your lover to come back to me. And why?" He was still furious at the situation she had talked herself into, bedding with him when he wanted nothing for her; but surely, she wanted something with him, getting an angry man in her bed, knowing what to say and do to make him even angrier.

William moved. He had been facing her, enough to complain to her face, but now he grabbed one of her delicate wrists and leaned over her, anger taking over as he glared down at her. "I wish to God you would tell me what the damned hell you want," he suddenly snarled at her. "You have your happiness with this other man and yet you seek me out when you have wronged me so." His voice was low, his eyes narrowed as he looked down into a face he once admired for its beauty, a face he once enjoyed looking upon during times that were happier--if not happier, certainly not this troubled. "I hope you have been happy with him, Anne, for you shall still be happy with them for you are not my wife. What is it that he gave you that I did not? If you say you love him, you are even more foolish than I thought. Love is all in your imagination. It does not exist."

Glaring down at her as if he would be happy to smother her in this bed, he awaited a response, jaw tight, his grip firm on her wrist in an attempt to hold her where she was so she would no longer avoid the questions he posed her. If he could William would have beat it out of her; but he was not a violent man. He would not even think of succumbing to his rage in that manner. No matter what he thought of her, he would never harm her. She was lucky that way.

(I'M GONNA MAKE THIS AWKWARD. OH YEAH.)
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Anne Bourchier
Unregistered

"What did he give me that you did not?" she murmured. "Why, it was not love I desired. It was attention. I was locked away in that country house without you. I would think it would be extraordinary if I did not find some way to amuse myself."

Anne excelled at hiding her emotion and this time was no different, she'd never known William to touch her in anger and it surprised her very much. She had to admit, privately, that she wasn't averse to it. It sent a bit of a shiver up her spine that he could be so domineering. He'd been a good lover, certainly, but there was no raw passion such as this, angry or otherwise. When they'd coupled, it had been satisfactory, but nothing to marvel at.

"He sought me out, you should know." she continued. "Though he believed that it was I who did that. I might have been the one to make the first move, but he was the one who couldn't take his eyes off of me. It was flattering. So I let him have me. I never thought once to ever leave. I meant to dally with him, nothing more. But it is what it is."

She bit her lip, searching his eyes. This position they were in continued to make her not dislike the idea of seduction now. But she doubted he would go further. He might get angrier, but it would fizzle out in no time.

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William Parr
Unregistered

William could not help but notice, as he looked down at her with utter loathing in his face, that she seemed not to even flinch when he had grapped her. "Ah, you answer one question," he hissed, beyond himself in anger, "but not the other. I could have easily guessed why. You do know, Anne, that had you sought him out behind my back, I would never have cared? But no." He loosened the grip on her wrist, wanting to corner her, to scream in her face, to do all the things his head--and his conscience--told him not to. Somehow rationality won out, but it was a meager win. Taking hold of her again, this time he tried to pull her up towards him as he rose to sit on his knees, his grip a vise on both of her wrists. "He sought you out? A man of God? Then he has no honor at all. Just as you do not. Not surprising what you did."

His face barely an inch from hers, William had the strange desire to kiss her. Not for love or passion, but to show how she had been so wrong with everything she had done. She left him for a nobody. He was somebody, damn it. "Locked away without me for you would not come to court where you were needed as my wife. You know nothing of duty, or honor, or anything but your own God damned selfish desires." He had been attracted to her--who wouldn't?--but the greatest betrayal, William knew, did not just make him angry, it made him hurt. Strange that he knew it, and let it fester with the anger he held dear to his heart, but her leaving him wounded his pride and God knew the man had an ego.

"You think to draw me out, to bring me to your cause, to make me think you were in the right. I never would." William's voice, coming out in dark snarls through gritted teeth, was frightening even to him, as surely was the glint in his eyes. He would happily have smothered her and thought her not so missed, but even in his utter rage, he would never do such a thing: but he would contemplate it. "What the devil do you want of me, Anne?" he growled, feeling lust somewhere bubbling up inside. "I will not take you back, even though you worm your way into my bed."

Driven quite beyond himself in such a state, wound up tight, there was no rhyme or reason as to why he leaned in and kissed her, his fingers digging into the skin of her arms. William pulled away, his breathing hard. "Is that what you wanted? Consider it a parting gift. Go back to him and burn in hell for all I care." A wry smirk curved his lips. "Knowing what a whore you are I am sure you want more than that."
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Anne Bourchier
Unregistered

The kiss, no matter how it was meant, brought everything flooding back to her. She knew that wasn't his intention; he was clearly meaning to prove a point to her, but he wasn't going to do it. Her mind was clouded with remembrance and lust. She didn't want to surge forward with it and kiss him herself because, despite how she held herself, it had stung that he'd called her a whore. Though deep down, she knew she deserved it if she thought back to her time with John.

They had coupled in the house of God and she knew, without a doubt, she would burn for it, married or not. She could understand why William felt the way he did, but it wouldn't stop her. She had to secure her daughter's future, even if she had no intention of returning to her and John. She merely wanted to do this so that, when she was gone, Mary would know that she did love her in her own way. Abandonment was cruel, but it was for the best.

"You," she breathed, trying to rein in her desire, "presume too much, husband. It is not wise to do so."

Despite all she was doing to keep herself from showing how much she wanted him, she knew her breathing, the way she was looking at him and the way her lips were parted gave her away. But hopefully he was too blinded by his anger to realize it. There was no way in the world that he was feeling the way she was.
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William Parr
Unregistered

With a chuckle that had more than its fair share of bitterness, William asked, "I presume?" as if it were the funniest thing in the world. He was no fool; he had enough experience with women, and with Anne although he had not bedded her in years, to know exactly why she was looking at him like that. "You forget, Anne, how I know you. So well. I have spent ten years with you, all of them wasted. I know well enough to not presume--ever."

Not knowing exactly what he was doing or why, William's actions seemed guided by one thing: not his anger, but the unstoppable sin of lust. He had no love for her, truly never having felt that particular emotion, but oh, had he thought about her when they were younger, when they lived as man and wife and shared a bed. "I know I am not presuming," he growled, pushing her down onto the bed, his weight on top of her, his heart beating hard and fast.

"Is this what you want, Anne?" William was, in his own strange way, asking for permission, for he never would force himself, not even on her. His voice was still that steady growl as he pressed himself against her, just daring her to say yes, wanting to wind her up to answer his questions, wanting her at his mercy, for once to be the victor with her. Oh, he wanted her, but it wasn't the same. Not when he wanted Ursula, when he wanted to caress her, hold her in his arms. He wanted Anne simply for pleasure and nothing more. No coherent thinking was being done. He was only driven by base desire, his anger inflaming it.
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Anne Bourchier
Unregistered

For nearly everything, Anne had a remark or a retort, but now she couldn't find her voice. She would have liked to answer him, to let him have some satisfaction to hear it and get some satisfaction of her own if he did what she thought he was going to do.

She wasn't going to read into it at all; she knew how much he hated her now. Desperately she wished to change it, but wasn't certain how to proceed. Perhaps this was the first time or perhaps it would lead further to her ruin. She wasn't a seer, she didn't know how it would end.

"Is this what you want, William?" she was now able to counter, deciding not to give him the yes he appeared to desire. "I am your wife. You may do what you will."

Though with her own particular way, her voice was edged with something else. Something that could only be called lust. She did love this man whether or not she behaved like it, but there was no love in this right now. This was ... she wasn't sure what to call it, but it was something her husband would regret in the morning.

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William Parr
Unregistered

(Fade to black, kthxbai.)

While he was, like every other man at court, used to sharing his bed with various women, William had never been angry about it as he had been with Anne. There was no love lost between them and there was no love shown, either. He was certainly not gentle or kind with her, still eaten up by the infuriating thoughts that filled his head whenever she came to his mind. All for fleeting seconds of pleasure that surely would have repercussions once he realized what exactly he did.

The moment he realized it was when he lay panting beside her, staring up at the tester of the bed. You idiot. You idiot! William berated himself in his head, suddenly feeling quite cold and frozen, the look he wore earlier of utter hatred gone for something like shock. The lust now abated, he was angry now with himself, horrified at what he had done: not just because they slept together, but to him it was like he had almost forced her, though he knew she had wanted it too. It didn't much matter what either of them wanted then. Logic did not come into play until after.

"Damn it..." he mumbled as he exhaled a breath, his chest rising and falling slowly. "God damn it." Swallowing, William cast a sideways glance Anne's way, wondering what was on her mind after such an unexpected, unwanted reunion of their bodies. "How could I be--" So stupid his thoughts finished as he turned from her to stare at the intricately carved tester that held up the curtains around the bed, unable to say or even think, so taken aback by the change of direction this went. He couldn't even blame her. It was him. And his decision, made in the heat of a moment filled with loathing and ardor, would--he knew--not break his resolve, but break this whole matter into a million pieces.
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