Chapter 48/49. Thirsty! my novel The Boutique Robillard, my Gone with the Wind's fanfiction

✂️ Gone with the Wind, the nightmare

5 seconds · Clipped by Arlette Dambron · Original video "Gone With The Wind ( honeymoon scene )" by Movie Scenes

https://www.youtube.com/clip/Ugkxmd_lx0ZdtuQDQ8P3lBGKDuyHOecaK8JF

Rhett embraces Scarlett after her nightmare.

Was she already dead?

People were shaking her! They were grabbing her shoulders!

The brambles!

She struggled harder, clawing at her arms to get rid of them. But she could not fight, because the brambles had consolidated into barbed wire that threatened her with hundreds of small sharp points.

Noise around her. Unintelligible words, muffled by the thickness of the carnivorous plants that piled up on her.

The voice was getting closer. Was someone else trapped in these fields?   

"Breathe slowly! Calm down Scarlett! Everything is fine. It was just a dream!"

A dream? No way! She knew she was lost in the middle of this blue tide.

An iron hand firmly immobilized both her arms. She twisted in all directions to free herself from the barbed wire that pinned her to the ground.

A weight compressed her chest. Through the forest of her half-open eyelashes, a gigantic hand was lifting to the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat. Its warmth penetrated the pores of her skin, warming her blood, which had solidified with terror.

Then she felt herself being lifted up. Someone had managed to pull her out of the blue barbed wire prison!

Like a drowning woman threatened with fatal asphyxiation, she let out a rattle and sucked in a few gulps of life-saving air, while the protective hand finally managed to regulate her jerky breathing.

"Rhett!" She shouted his name with the relief of the castaway grabbing the life preserver.

"Yes, my Darling, I am here. It was a bad dream. It is over now. You are safe."

If Rhett was there, it meant that nothing could get to her! Not even this horrible nightmare. She breathed a sigh of relief.    

He sat her on the edge of the bed on his lap. His strong arms embraced her, isolating her from any external danger. Scarlett's wet cheek was pressing against Rhett's hairy chest.

With infinite tenderness, he wiped away with his thumb the tears that were still flowing.

To ease the tension, he chuckled, by looking at his naked chest: "This time, my setting does not allow me to give you the least handkerchief."

Like a kitten nestling against her mother's belly, she rubbed her nose against the scattered hair to enjoy his reassuring warmth and familiar smell.

Rhett passed his fingers in her hair, smoothing them with slowness in the manner of the breeder caressing the mane of the wild horse to tame it. Glued to her head, he placed kisses there interspersed with sweet words: "Rest! I am taking care of you. Nothing can happen to you, my Darling.”

While keeping her curled up against him, with an agile hand he seized the jug of water on the night table and emptied it to fill the glass.

Her thirst was so intense that she wanted to drink greedily. He said, "Slowly! Take small sips or you will choke."

Finally quenched, she wiped her lips against Rhett's breasts.

He let out a groan.

His whiskers stuck to her temple, he asked tenderly, "Is it always the same nightmare that comes back to you? The fog?"

"No. I do not remember very well. I was lost in a field. There were flowers. Everything was blue. It was hot. I could not breathe. I was suffocating." Frustrated that she could not remember what had been so vivid just minutes before, she concluded, "It was terrifying..."

"It is over. You have nothing more to worry about, my Darling."

He tilted her head back and placed a kiss on her eyelids to chase away the bad images that had scared her.

Not thinking of pushing him away, she yawned in contentment at being under the wing of this powerful body.

Through her thin nightdress, she felt his calloused hands moving in her back, waving in circles, from the nape of her neck to the bottom of her loins. He continued to whisper reassuring words to her but their sounds were muffled by his lips stuck in her hair, on her temples, behind her earlobe...

Scarlett was hot, very hot. Yet, on this summer night when everyone was looking for coolness, she paradoxically pressed herself even more against his chest.

Two seconds later, she felt herself falling backwards. In a flash, he laid her down on the immaculate sheet and began to reverently spread the long jet locks on the pillow, like an artist staging his muse before painting her.

Then his gesture slowed down as if he was thinking.

Suddenly, without her understanding how it happened, his body fell against her.

"Rhett!" Her cry of protest echoed against the walls of the room, absorbed by his confused stammering.

Followed by silence.

Compressed by those pounds of muscle, enveloped by his hot breath on her, she was railing against her pounding heart. The unseemly position she was in would have been a thousand miles from being imaginable a few hours earlier.

But the nightmare and the fear, combined with the gratitude of being "saved" from that barbed wire still so menacing in her brain, had just reduced to ashes her firm resolve to repel any physical contact with this overly forward former husband.

Her inhibitions, already amply beaten since the beginning of their journey, vanished like snow in the sun.

Gone at the same time the affectionate kisses and the fatherly embrace of Rhett!  His grip became insistent on her shoulders, arms and sides, massaging them as if he wanted to activate the blood that was burning along her veins.

Of a rocking of hips, he took her legs in vice between his.

A prisoner! A willing prisoner. Who did not want to escape from his hold anymore.

At the end of this long journey, where they had given themselves up in turn to a game of hide-and-seek made of brushing, rejections and aborted caresses, Rhett had finally decided to scuttle his facade of master in dissimulation of his impulses.

With an intensity so violent that it transported Scarlett in the past of that famous night, the frenetic movements of his pelvis were following the rhythm of his passionate kisses on her scattered hair, in her nape of the neck, more and more close to her throat...

But that was not enough. After hesitating, like a mad dog sniffing so many tasty smells that he did not know which one to devour first, he concentrated on her face, of which he knew every sinuosity, the curve of her cheekbones, the tiny wrinkles at the corner of her eyes, or the swelling of the edge of her lips.

Scarlett's body was like a leaf carried away by the gust of wind, with each new brush of whiskers, and shivering with each slide of his half-open lips around hers. They encircled them. With his kisses, he was redrawing their design. He was approaching her scarlet mouth in temptress. Then, when Scarlett was holding too ostensibly her breath, he moved away from them again.

It was so frustrating that she let escape a little moan, which was immediately muffled by Rhett's groan when his lips came down violently on hers.

A strong smell of alcohol invaded her throat. It did not matter! She tasted his kiss in the same way that he savored under his tongue the best vintages. With delight, she found the dizziness to which he had accustomed her, and she answered with enthusiasm to his ardor.

Their intermingled tongues launched into a ballet even more erotic than that of the Habanera. There again, Rhett, in master, imposed her the rhythm. And she followed him with passion. Until she had the impression to faint not to be able to breathe, and that he granted her a little respite by separating their lips of some millimeters.

Then, like a child who has just been given her favorite treat, she let out a small sigh of contentment.

Rhett did not miss it. He grabbed her chin to force her to look at him.

She saw only two black eyes like the darkness of the car. He was looking at her. As he had done so much all these years. In a way she had found strange, not understanding. But this time he seemed to have found what he was looking for because he groaned. Like a wounded beast that understood that his salvation had arrived.

What had he read?

Incomprehensibly, he detached himself from her and lay on his back, his eyes riveted to the ceiling.

Deprived of his warmth, she shivered.

Her senses were fully back now, and she was aware of their near-nudity - he wearing only the bottom of his silk pajamas, she exposed in her translucent batiste nightgown. Their bodies were so close that Scarlett could feel the slightest flex of Rhett's muscles.

While a few seconds earlier they had shared a passionate kiss, neither of them dared to move an eyelash for several long minutes.

An anguish twisted her stomach. What was going through his mind? Had their embrace disappointed him after all these years? Maybe she had lost all her charm for him and he was going to tell her that this time it was really over?

She tried to focus on the squeal of the locomotive wheels on the tracks, but the throbbing of her heart-or was it Rhett's? - was deafening.

So much so that she barely heard him:

"I love you."

His tongue was pasty. Three little words spoken in slow motion as if they were too dangerous to get out of his throat.

She held her breath.

Did she understand him correctly? Had he really said that?

He is drunk. He will not remember his declaration of love in the morning...

The blood was pounding at her temples.

Her temples which were abruptly tightened by the burning hands of Rhett. He wedged her against the pillow to cover her with his chest, his muscular thighs taking her in pincer.

Then, his words collided. Like an obstructed underground stream, buried in the ground and forgotten, and which suddenly forced itself under the pressure of nature to gush out in a powerful and continuous tide, overflowing through the alleys and flooding the grass around it.

He repeated in a more confident tone: "I love you, Scarlett." His pupils had completely absorbed his irises. They were piercing her to take possession of her brain. So that the least cell of life merges with his.

Like attracted by a magnet, his mouth crushed on hers.

Gone with the Wind (4/6) Movie CLIP - Leaving for Battle (1939) HD

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yNvuIuWY3Sw

Scarlett was swept away. Like the night on the road to Rough and Ready. Like the day after Frank's death. Like the night of Ashley's birthday...

She passed her fingers behind the neck of this shadow which absorbed her vision. So that he continues. So that he never stops.

Now that the taboo word was out, drunk on his confession, he began to repeat it every time he managed to get his mouth off hers, "I love you so much ... I have always loved you, I shall always love you."

His tongue forced the opening of her lips to meet hers.

A fiery lava flowed from one to the other, igniting every pore so that their skins melted.

She still had not said anything for fear he would interrupt, and drank in every sweet word greedily.

"So long! So long waiting for you!" His voice was choppy. He could hardly catch his breath. His words of love were interspersed with passionate kisses. More and more passionate.

"I craved you like Hell."

Scarlett’s throat was knotted. In this voluptuous tumult, she wondered if she had not started to dream again. Another dream. The one that had been lurking in the corner of her head for years. Rhett's love. Oh! Not for exploiting this declaration to better whip and put him down, as the futile and capricious girl she had been had declared. It was an earthquake that shook her heart, and that made her shiver from neck to toe.

He could not seem to get enough of her. His mouth roamed over her forehead, the lobes of her ears, the birth of her throat, but always returned, as if caught, to the lips he had been deprived of for so long. If he stopped kissing her, he would not be able to breathe anymore.

These distraught kisses were those of a shipwrecked man emerging from the water to take in a breath of air before being sucked into the abyss.

These same abysses where she plunged, where only the kingdom of pleasure commanded.

In a remote corner - very remote - of her brain, pure blue eyes like a summer sky tried to imprint themselves. But the vision was immediately chased away by the dangerous muscle shadow pressed against her.

Her body, in the diapason of his, glowed of desire. Carried away in a vertigo of sensations, it was transformed into incandescent inferno. 

The young woman deprived for so long of physical love – the physical love with Rhett - responded with exhilaration to the dance of their tongues as they intertwined, exploring each other like a familiar landscape that had been deserted for too long. She gargled with every juice of his breath tasting of alcohol and tobacco.

The cabin was in darkness. The shutters were almost completely down. Only the small safety light was on.

Their shadows echoed, giant in the mirror. Rhett's athletic build projected itself, immense and multiplied. A wild beast which was covering his prey. And of whom she had the evidence, through the silk of the pants, to feel the vigor of his raw sexual power.

With one hand, he caressed her hair, massaged it, twisted it, and covered himself with it as he kissed it, to weave the cocoon that would isolate them from the rest of the world.

With the other hand, he began to explore her. It covered her breast, massaged it, twisted the nipple with the experience of an old lover who celebrates a reunion in a familiar land.

My God, I had forgotten how big his hand is! She felt defenseless, at his mercy.

Scarlett slipped both arms behind his back, savoring the contact with his bare skin. She tightened her embrace. To get him even closer.

He whispered; he gasped; he moaned because each word was a pain, the breaking of a secret that had been padlocked for ages. "Finally ... What if I told you that not a single night has passed since I left you where you were not in my brain? You would come to haunt me, unceasingly, even though I wanted to chase you away with all my might. Even to... eventually satisfy myself, I needed..., I needed your face. Only you. Always you."

He was trembling. His arms, so powerful, capable of breaking a colossus, were trembling. "Tell me you crave my caresses. Tell me, Scarlett!"

She had the impulse to answer him. But tell him what? That she had not stopped loving him since he left three years ago? A knot was forming at the bottom of her throat. The fear of being rejected again, in spite of his endearing words.

He left her face to explore her cleavage. His mouth stopped on the ribbon which closed it. He groped to find the buttons of the bustier. Too nervous, he tried to enlarge the collar but still could not reach his treasures. Under his fingers, Scarlett was conscious that her nipples hardened, of second in second.  

"Your scent..." His words were barely audible as he was panting. "Your scent... I tried to reconstruct it in my memory. Your image and your body have never left me. But your smell... Your perfume... It drove me crazy not being able to breathe it anymore. That absence has made me die slowly. But now it is over. I will not let you out of my life again. Ever."

He began sniffing her like a dog. "The taste of your skin… I could not stand being deprived of it. My veins craved you with the insanity of an opium addict. You are my drug, Scarlett."

She drank in his words. She was floating, lulled into an enchanted world where the only things that mattered were his crazy declarations and his wandering hands on her skin.

She thought that she had reached the peak of sensations. But no! His fingers, his lips and his tongue were roaming elsewhere. He made her moan again and again.

At first, she bit her lips to avoid making a sound that would betray her vulnerability. Then the urge was too strong. A moan escaped. Then another.

Her cooing drove him mad. With the greed of a wild animal hungry for months, he took the two shoulder pads of the delicate blouse and tore it. The rest of the thin gossamer followed.

Breathless, she was a willing witness to his savagery in destroying the remnants of what had been a refined and expensive undergarment.

Entirely naked on the sheets, she shivered of apprehension and excitement mixed. Because he had just stand still on his knees in front of her.

"Turn around."

"No!"

"Turn around." The violence of the order caused her to panic for a moment. Never, during their year of intimacy, Rhett had shown himself so authoritarian. She had never had to follow any command during their lovemaking, Rhett being almost as cautious as her former husbands. This new obligation to obey this powerful stature that could crush her was delicious. She submitted to it and turned on her stomach.

Strangely, a sentence came to her lips: fortunately he does not see how red I am of shame. Then she had to restrain herself not to laugh at her own thought. Because no, from the way she was lying, he could not see her crimson cheeks. Not that ones…He was seeing her in her raw nudity, her curves and her buttocks delivered to his glance. A glance of which she did not have evil to imagine the intensity, because it was piercing her.

For the few seconds that he remained frozen behind her, she was assailed by a feeling that was unknown to her, that of lack of confidence. How long had it been since he had seen her stripped like this, defenseless before his eyes? For ages. It was almost ten years ago. Since then she had made her body suffer by losing weight and drinking. Even if she had put on some weight, did she have enough curves to compete with the parade of young girls he had admired in the same way?

But her doubts vanished when she heard him speak in a strangled tone. As if the words were struggling to get out of his throat:

"Pure perfection! No painter, no sculptor, no artist, could reproduce such a perfect small of the back. Perhaps only the goddesses of Olympus or Botticelli with his Birth of Venus would dare to claim to equal you in splendor. But I would deny them this right.”

Emotional to the point of tears, she swallowed a sob, freed from the fear that had made her doubt herself. 

He put a knee behind her. "Do not move."

It reminded her of other situations during their first year of marriage. He had already been behaving like an immobile statue and she had wondered what he was going to do. Curious. Just curious.

But this night, it was another wait. A wait that was becoming more and more impatient. Her body was only shivers.

Then she felt the heat of his hand that wandered, without landing, a few millimeters from her skin. Almost to touch it. Two burning hands whose proximity inflamed it by following the least curve.

When finally they brushed her body effectively, she began to push small moans. All modesty vanished, she offered herself.

She let herself be positioned as he wanted, but his hands still had not landed on her.

This waiting became intolerable.

Then, like the undertow of the waves on the sand, without her being able to do anything about it, her hips began to undulate to try to accentuate the contact with his prying fingers.

Their jerky breaths intermingled. Finally his heavy body fell on her, and his fleshy mouth browsed through each vertebra of her spine, making her arch painfully to flee and find the contact with his wet lips.

Then his warmth left her once more. Before she could wonder what was happening, he had turned her against the pillow again - like a rag doll, Scarlett thought, as a spectator.

Through the weak glow of the wagon, his eyes as black as coal were like two red-hot pokers that fanned her blood, as they explored every square inch of her body with the indecent possessiveness of the owner inventorying his property. Her veins were boiling, were throbbing in her neck to go down towards her belly, along her thighs...

Scarlett O'Hara was only sensations. Forgotten the modesty! The daughter of Helen was no more. The frigid wife was also dead. The authoritarian young woman who submitted everyone to her command was only a ghost.

She was waiting. Submissive to his desire which was going to fall on her like a tornado.

Submissive and more powerful than ever because the male who embodied raw virility was in veneration before her.

Stunned.

Gone with the Wind-Rhett carrying Scarlett up stairs.avi

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M25sE8Ccapc

"That" night, passion between Scarlett and Rhett on the staircases.

He leaned over her, seemed to hesitate as he tasted which piece of choice would get his attacks.

It was her breasts, which had the beginnings of his caresses. When his whiskers tickled her halos, she stopped analyzing. Her brain disconnected itself from her body. With the exception of the hemisphere of the pleasure which panicked so much that the waves which it emitted were disparate.

Especially since his mouth was progressing on her ribs, to stop on her belly ; did not let go it, following the spasms that escaped from her to flee this contact, to get closer...

She was going to fall. She was sure she was going to fall. He was leading her so far into the land of pleasure that she was sure she was going to fall into a precipice governed only by the senses.

She had placed the back of her hand in front of her mouth not to let escape moans, for fear to show her weakness. It was lost. With the first cooing which betrayed her, he stopped and looked at her with a victorious glance.

Then, like a maestro getting ready to play the score of his life, his agile fingers flew along her hips. Her lower abdomen became the precious hips of a violin.

In virtuoso of lovemaking, his right hand played the role of the bow, seeking to increase the tension of her elastic body, whereas his left hand spread out to position itself where he alone knew how to cause in his lover the highest crystalline tonalities.

But assuming the digression of the violinist not to limit himself to his fingers to make her sing of pleasure, he used his tongue to access the sounding post of the Stradivarius called Scarlett, a mysterious little spot that made all her vocal cords vibrate, the carved wooden walls becoming a echo chamber for this siren song. 

Nothing else existed except Rhett and his calloused hands that kneaded her according to their desires, his hair that brushed the most intimate places of her body, triggering other shivers, his invasive tongue that...

"Oh!"

Stupor. Emotion. Enchantment. Embarrassment... Her little squeak of ecstasy shocked herself.

It was too much! It was not right. It was against every rules...

She twisted in all the directions to try to escape this pleasure which was making her ashamed. To this desire which was making her moan like a female alien in the decent world.

Then, with the agility of the feline moving by surprise, he sprang on her and pinned her with all the weight of his body. She swung her head from right to left, fighting against herself, against the Scarlett who wanted to preserve a zest of respectability ; to whom it had been inculcated that the wife had to refuse certain things from her husband because those were reserved to loose women ; that she had to refuse the right to the pleasure, or it would corrupt her and throw her to the flames of the Hell...

Rhett gripped her jaws firmly. Their faces were glued together so tightly that she read his lips just by deciphering the movements of his mouth against hers:

"You are mine, Scarlett! Say it!"

In other circumstances, his bluntness would have shocked her. But his voice was hoarse. Coiled. Engorged with emotion.

Again his mouth crushed on hers. And the unbridled dance of their tongues resumed.

She was panting, looking for some air. Then she plunged herself in this crazy union where saliva and breath mixed.

"Say you are mine!"

He wanted her to submit. He wanted to hear her surrender.

Overcome by the avalanche of emotions, she stammered a muffled "Yes!

"Louder, say it. Admit that you belong to me."

It was so authoritative that she could - would - only comply with the command, "Yes, I am yours, Rhett."

Was this another dream? She thought she heard a wounded beast cry out in pain. Or happiness. Or both at the same time.

A guttural groan came out of his chest which he stifled by plunging his face in her hair. To try to dissimulate his shaking. As a sign of thanks for this unexpected gift, he flooded the top of her head, her eyelids, her cheeks, and her forehead, with kisses as light and lively as the wings of dragonflies. Wanting to prolong this unexpected felicity.

Scarlett clutched the back of his neck. The scent of him drove her crazy. This so particular musk, so virile, so... Rhett. She wanted to rub her face against his chest to smell it like a drug.

 But he decided otherwise. Light caresses were over. She had to let go of his neck because he had already repositioned himself lower.

And then... Taken of a passionate fury, he unleashed himself and explored each pore of her intimacy with his wet mouth. On the lookout, he watched for the slightest twitch, the smallest moan indicating that he had detected a sensitive point, seeking to arouse the most limpid note of pleasure. Immediately he redoubled ardor to accentuate his caresses, using all the weapons of a seducer passed master in the art of the enjoyment.

For a thousandth of a second, Scarlett marveled at his dexterity. He was all over her, marking his territory on the pearly skin.

She could no longer think though. She was floating in a world of voluptuousness. Her lower abdomen had become the realm of butterflies that were threatening to burst. White circles were growing before her eyes. But she did not want to close them. Hypnotized by Rhett's head buried under her. Focused on her pleasure that was coming in waves and that was about to explode...

"Oh!"

Rhett looked up and caught her with her head turned upside down, her eyelids closed, her mouth open in a heart shape, as if to mark her surprise at experiencing such ecstasy.

Never, oh never, would he forget that vision. The vision of Scarlett who had just orgasmed because of him.

Tenderly, he caressed her fingers which continued to clutch in ball the sheets. When he felt that she was beginning to relax, he went back to explore her. Because, how to make up for more than fifteen years of famine?

Why had he not taught her these pleasures? Unconsciously, the two lovers asked themselves the same question. Why had they waited so long to reach fulfillment?

When Rhett's expert fingers were once again in tune with her lips, she told herself that she would never want to come down from the Eden of sensual pleasure again.

 Her skin burned as if she had been placed over a flame. The only way to soothe this fire was with those saliva-soaked lips that cooled it for a while. Because very soon other burns, other fires were fanned.

The satin of his pants flowed over her legs. But instead of forming a barrier with her bare skin, it made their contact even more indecent.

Again the violent wave made her close her eyelids. Everything became luminous. She asked for mercy. That his hands, that his mouth, that they stop for a moment so that she could breathe. But no, on the contrary, his frenzy was even more brutal.

"Thirsty... Thirsty for you! For so many years I have been reading the same poem, the one that praises the virtues of ambrosia, that delicacy that assured immortality to the divinities who feasted on it. I had tasted this nectar thanks to your kisses. And finally, finally..."

This time, instead of gritting her teeth to keep from groaning, she shouted, "Rhett!" After a final gasp, everything stopped. She had arrived at her destination. In a land that was nothing but contentment and fulness. Fulfilled.

He immediately laid on top of her and forced her to look at him. What he read there provoked such strong emotion in him that his eyes blurred. He wanted to pronounce her name, but a rattle replaced the sounds.

Then they remained immobile a few moments to calm their heartbeats.

Their panting gradually calmed down. Scent and sweat intermingled to seal their communion.

Rhett's body was getting heavier and heavier, without him trying to spare her. He was going to choke her. She was going to die smothered. Under him. Without her wanting to change her position.

Their foreheads were now pressed together. Clenching his jaws, he ordered, "Look at me, Scarlett."

So she dared.

Daylight was beginning to filter in.

"The emerald of your eyes has never sparkled so brightly with this prism of color... Do you know that with their hundreds of shades of green, they embody the richest palette a painter could ever dream of?"

He accentuated his hold between her legs. His pelvic thrusts became violent. Hardly returned from her ecstasy, she wanted more. Insatiable. Differently. But this silk which prevented it from...

Then nothing. He had risen. She felt empty.

She heard a crumpling. The mattress collapsed under his weight, his two knees bent. Then again the body so desired fell on her.

Naked.

Finally. With the crudeness of his desire for her. To her ears reached her a litany of words more inflamed the ones than the others, interspersed with languorous "Scarlett".

 "You are mine. All mine. Master and mistress, we are one, My Sweet. My Darling."

Exhilarated by this unhoped-for love that trickled down, finally, she was going to be all his. Like before. Better than before. His wife. His mistress. His female. He was going to fill her completely.

And then she froze. No, not completely. She could not be completely his. Oh, God! If she ever got pregnant... Bonnie! Her other lost baby! No! She could not... With a sudden movement of her hips, she pulled away from him.

He had a groan, as if a member had been torn out of him. She could still feel his sex begging for contact.

Uncertainty and incomprehension replaced the euphoria. "What is wrong, my Darling? Did I hurt you?"

She closed her eyelids, not daring to look at him anymore, moving her head from side to side. She did not want to talk about Bonnie and their lost baby.

With difficulty, she spoke:

"It cannot be. I ca not belong to you like this tonight."

She pursed her lips. To hurt herself. To better anchor herself in reality. To be lucid. To bring an ounce of reason into this madness. At least try.

"Rhett... What we have done, what you have made me feel is wonderful. You have made me happy. So happy..." She stroked his cheek.

But this was not enough to dispel from her lover's eyes the suspicion that a cloud was brewing.

"You know my principles. Principles that I have largely exploded thanks to you tonight. I had always been true to one rule, that of not belonging to a man without being married."

He searched her water-green irises, looking for a meaning to this crazy argument. "But this is madness! The situation is quite different. Until recently we were still united. Your sacrosanct rule cannot apply. We were married! And I love you..." He had to interrupt himself because a sob had obstructed the end of his declaration of love. He swallowed his saliva to defend his cause: "I want to ma... "

She put her fingers over his mouth so that he would not continue.

He shook his head for denying what he had just heard: "Your explanations are ridiculous. Tell me the truth. Why?"

She dodged again, "Duncan. I promised Duncan I would marry him..."

With one hand, he squeezed both her cheeks. His violence took over. The rage felt at the mention of this hatred name almost made him explode: "He is nothing. You can not marry him. Not after what just happened."

She cleared her throat. "If I gave myself to you entirely now, it would be betraying him. Stabbing him in the back when he does not deserve it. I need to talk to him to make sense of it. I can only be yours when I am free of my commitment. Be patient. I shall see him again soon, and I shall tell him. I shall break our engagement. Then..."  

Hope was reborn: "Promise me. Promise me that you will tell him it is over. I beg you!"

But the more he continued, the more her uncertainty grew. Disconcerted by this Rhett so in love, so passionate, so tender, so attentive to her pleasure. And if this happiness stopped? 

She could not answer him. A knot had formed in the back of her throat.

So instead of uttering the word that would seal her commitment, she simply concluded, "I shall tell him when I see him in ten days."

He did not repress a small bitter laugh: "What irony! Your uncompromising principles of physical fidelity have kept me from being officially cuckolded by your knight in shining armor. And now... now... that weapon is turning against me because you do not want to be physically unfaithful to your... fiancé, or whatever you call him."

Because he was in pain, he pointed out wickedly, "Don't you think that with what we just did your principles are pretty much shot?"

She gritted her teeth. Of course he was right. Her excuse was no longer valid.

He who read in her as in an open book felt her indecision. He tried once again to make her flinch by sticking their two bodies so that she becomes aware of the intensity of his desire. And for better proving it to her, he concentrated the pressure between her legs, accentuating his movement of back and forth by using his arm like a lever.

Finding it increasingly difficult to resist his attacks, she broke down and revealed her true fear to him:

"We can not. Do you realize the consequences if we ever, if ever... My God!"

Eventually he understood. "Another child.... There would be nothing more wonderful on earth than the fruit of our union. Another chance..." His voice choked. The ghost of a little girl had invaded the space.

"Rhett, have you lost your mind?" Raw reality splashed over them. "Can you imagine? Carrying your child without being married? The infamy? No! "

"Scarlett! I am going to be careful. Do not worry. There will not be any consequences. I am us..." He bit his lips as what he had been about to reveal was not appropriate.

"No, I am too scared. It would be too awful. No! "

"Scarlett, I want to marry you. I will marry you. We will be husband and wife again in the eyes of the world."

She did not react to this last sentence, so much she was plunged in the fright of the scandal which announced itself.

He groans in frustration, "Admit that you want me. Everything else does not matter. It is just the two of us."

His right hand held her head. This way, she could not run away.

Laconic, she delivered the final blow: "If I bore a child before I was married, the city - I mean, - all of Georgia - would crucify me."

The argument was relentless. Even if he married her as soon as they returned to Atlanta, the Old Guard would be counting down the days until their child was born. And the stigma would fall on the young woman again.

Rhett knew himself well enough to know that there would be no chance of that happening. But it was not wise to insist on it. He had to wait. Wait for her to fulfill her promise. And then they would finally be together - fully.

But in the meantime...

He sighed and clenched his teeth, so much the impossibility to satisfy his desire for her was a physical suffering. Feeling her legs trapped between his, her burning skin, her soft skin, her tempting skin under him…her hips so welcoming…

His features were displaying his raw desire. She had never seen him so seductive. So irresistible. It was a mixture of wild pleasure with each new friction, tenderness and pain because he could not possess her.

He had been nothing but generous, forgetting the satisfaction of his own desire to be devoted only to hers. In the dim light of the room, for the first time, Scarlett was able to read her lover's face. On his wrinkles dug by the emotion, there was desire. But also love, passion, adoration. And pain.

She understood how much her decision not to give herself entirely to him was a physical torture she was inflicting on him. His body trembled as he had to control the desire for her.

She caressed his neck. This tender attention made his tenderness overflow like a glass too full.

He gently caressed her face, then his fingers began to trace the hem of her lips with the precision of a blind man deciphering in Braille the mystery revealed.

The thumb stopped on the pulp of the lips. To distract his attention from the blood that was flowing in the hollow of his loins and not to show his frustration too crudely, he formed a small circle with his thumb under her lower lip. With each passage, his finger accentuated the pressure and made it roll until it folded.

His black eyes were hypnotized by the sparkling amethysts.

Scarlett held her breath. Rhett's gasps were increasing as his little game was going on. He had found a diversion to his always so virulent desire. With constancy, with graduation, he rubbed the pulp of his finger against her teeth, marveling at their perfect enamel. 

She did not take her eyes off him. She was observing. Cheeks on fire.

She half-opened her lips because she wanted to feel the callosity of his skin. Bold, she passed her tongue on it.

Immediately he shortly closed his eyes and let out a groan.

Their eyes locked again.

How was it possible that the mighty Rhett, the indestructible, looked so fragile, at the mercy of what she was about to do?

For the first time in her life as a woman, she thought about the pleasure of the other, and she was the one who took the initiative.

Despite having had three husbands, including Rhett, Scarlett had no experience in erotic play. But she instinctively found a way to soothe his frustration.

She captured his thumb with her tongue.

She read the surprise in his eyes, then a wild hope, the accomplishment of his sexual fantasy.

They did not need to exchange words. They understood each other. For the first time in their intimate lives, they were accomplices.

The technique of the brilliant lover and the generous freshness of the former rebellious wife unified in perfect symbiosis.

His body was getting heavier and heavier on her.

The rhythm rushed. Soon her luscious lips got the better of him. Desperate words rushed out, as if he was in a race.

He took her hand to bring it where he wanted it.

She let him guide her.

No sooner had she touched him than he let out a long wail mumbling her name.

Until everything stopped.

He pushed such a moan of pleasure that Scarlett, in her emotion, thought that it would remain forever engraved in her memory.

With both hands, he framed her face and began to cover her with kisses all over, on her forehead, on her nose, on her cheeks. Furtive kisses, kisses of thanks, exhausted kisses, interspersed with "I love you Scarlett." To multiply them to infinity.

Both fulfilled, they were only tender towards each other.

He had put his head against her chest. She could hardly recognize his muffled voice intimidated to express a new happiness.

"We will never leave each other again. We will be a family again, with Wade and Ella. Together."

He grabbed a long black lock of hair, marveling at the contrast with her pearly skin, then wrapped it around his neck.

She began to caress his head buried in the hollow of her breasts, as to reassure him, like a maternal gesture.

This had the desired effect. His breathing calmed down little by little. He murmured a few more words, incomprehensible sweet words, then he dozed off.

A tenderness of which she would never have imagined to be able to feel for the one who had made him so much evil, made her prolong her caresses in his thick hair. This movement of coming and going soothed her.

Everything was going to be fine.

Slowly, she too tasted this moment of serenity and fell asleep.

ooooOOoooo

Author : Arlette Dambron.

#gonewiththewind, #fanfiction, #lovescene, #RhettScarlett, #eroticscene, #novel, #frenchwriter

Chapter 50. Thirsty! 2nd Part. My novel The Boutique Robillard, my end fanfiction of Gone with the Wind - Mémoire de nos Anciens

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Reviews of Readers of my GWTW fanfiction The Robillard Boutique - Mémoire de nos Anciens

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Screenplay of my novel, "The Robillard Boutique", my "Gone with the Wind" fanfiction - Mémoire de nos Anciens

What will happen next? For eighty-five years, readers of Gone With the Wind, the masterpiece about the Civil War, by Margaret Mitchell, have dreamed of another END ! In the original story, Rhett ...

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