Part 3: link


    “See wewe later,” Arthur says, kissing her one last time before he heads to his car Saturday morning.
    She watches him walk down her driveway to his car.
    “Stop staring at my bum,” he hollers back at her, and she laughs, busted.
    She closes the door and leans back against it, thinking of how much she enjoys sleeping all night in his arms and waking up with him still wrapped around her.
    Last night she made the mistake of confessing that she was a bit afraid of avocadoes, so he dared her to try the guacamole dip from the Mexican chakula they had gotten for dinner. To her delight, she did not like the guacamole. But it didn’t stop Arthur from smearing some on her neck just so he could lick it off.
    In turn, she then dared him to let her give him a mud-masque facial. He enjoyed it quite thoroughly, though she’s not sure if he liked the masque au if he just liked her fussing over him.
    He may be less than thrilled when he sees the picture on Facebook, however, she thinks ruefully, heading for the sofa and her chakula magazine. She flips through it, stopping when she sees a page has its corner folded. I didn’t mark this page, she thinks, and looks at the recipe on it. Salted caramel, karmeli shortbread bars. Okay, then.

xXx

    Gwen’s phone pings at 12:05. She’s changed her text notification to sound like an elevator chime. Smiling, she looks at her phone.
    Have wewe had lunch?
    Not yet.
    Five sekunde later her doorbell rings, and Gwen runs to the door.
    “When wewe alisema ‘later,’ I was expecting closer to six au so,” she greets him, but really she is overjoyed to see him standing on her porch, laden down with a vazi bag, a backpack, and a bag from KFC.
    “Should I go, then?” he asks, his face falling.
    “I didn’t say that,” she answers, grabbing his arm and pulling him inside.
    “I like your outfit,” he tells her, handing over the lunch.
    Gwen has showered, but is not dressed, lounging around in a fluffy purple bathrobe. “I didn’t want to get dressed only to get dressed again later,” she says, calling after him as he strides comfortably back to her bedroom to hang up his suit and take off his shoes.
    After they have their fill of fried chicken, Gwen goes to the refrigerator and withdraws a rectangular pan.
    “What have wewe got there?” he asks, standing and coming to stand behind her, peering over her shoulder as she cuts the bars.
    “Salted caramel, karmeli shortbread bars,” she says casually, grinning when he slides his hands around her waist. “You are about as subtle as a rocket launcher.”
    “I actually marked that page because I wanted to copy down the recipe,” he laughs, leaning down into her so he can kiss her neck.
    “Oh? I didn’t realize wewe could cook,” she says, impressed, leaning her head back so he can continue what he is doing.
    “I can,” he murmurs against her neck, his hand pulling at the ukanda of her vazi now.
    “That is really… sexy,” she breathes, dropping her kisu on the counter and turning in his arms, leaning up to kiss him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
    He slides his hands inside her robe, his palms warm against her skin, her skin unbearably soft against his palms.
    “You feel like silk… satin…” he mutters between kisses, his hands sliding, “velvet… baby bunnies…”
    “Baby bunnies?” she pulls away, giggling.
    “Sorry,” he grins, “I was running out of ideas.” He stares down at her a moment, his blue eyes searching the depths of her brown ones for a moment before closing his lips over hers.
    He slowly walks her back to the jikoni meza, jedwali and she reaches behind her, pushing the boxes and plates to one side just before he lifts her and sits her on the table, leaning into her, pulling her vazi fully open while she unbuttons his jeans.
    “Arthur,” she breathes his name while he trails kisses down her neck to her breasts, biting a nipple lightly when she withdraws his swollen shaft from his jeans, stroking him a few times before releasing him to shove down on his jeans and underwear.
    “Eating lunch…” he mutters, “with you… knowing that wewe were… naked… under this robe…”
    “Arthur,” she says, taking his face between her hands, bringing it back up to hers, “shut up.”
    He laughs and she kisses him, reaching for him again, pulling him towards her, guiding him as he plunges mbele into her, sliding easily inside, burying himself deep.
    Arthur groans and throws his head back, losing himself in her, luxuriating in her. His eyes fly open again when he feels her hands slipping beneath his t-shirt, working it up, trying to pull it off of him.
    He lifts his arms and she pulls the shati off, throwing it to the side, where it lands on the floor in a crumpled heap of cotton.
    She smiles as her hands roam his bare chest, feeling his muscles, feeling how his nipples stiffen under her palms the same way hers do under his. He leans down and kisses her again, still moving within her, thrusting with long, languid strokes, his lips busy with hers, his hands busy at her breasts.
    He drives a little faster, a little harder, and she drops one hand back to brace herself on the table, raising the other to cling to his neck.
    “Oh… oh, God…” she starts to cry out now, her head falling back, and his lips attach themselves to her neck.
    “Oh… ah… yes… Arthur… oh yes… oh!” she finally shouts, digging her nails into his shoulder as she climaxes loudly, freely, with an abandon that Arthur finds both endearing and incredibly sexy.
    He grins against her neck, thrusts a few zaidi times, hard, before pushing in deep, groaning deliciously as he releases into her, pulling her close, as close as he can, holding her until the jikoni stops spinning around him.

xXx
    
    “Bond. James Bond,” Arthur says, arching an eyebrow at her as he emerges in his suit.
    Gwen laughs and fastens a sliver mkufu around her neck, a small locket dangling from it. “Would that make me Miss Moneypenny, then?”
    “Hardly. Bond and Moneypenny never got up to anything beyond flirting,” he says, pulling her into his arms, “and we’ve gone well past that.” Arthur leans down and kisses her, sucking lightly at her upper lip until she moans softly.
    “I’d reckon wewe were zaidi Pu—”
    She clamps her hand over his mouth, cutting him off. “Do not even go there, Pendragon,” she warns, smirking at him.
    Arthur kisses her fingers, laughing. “You look unbelievably beautiful, Guinevere,” he says, changing the subject. He leans back and holds her at arms’ length, looking her over, his eyes roaming over the cobalt blue dress she is wearing, noting how it clings in just the right places, flowing over her body like water, her soft cleavage taunting him from the neckline. He reaches up and takes one of her soft curls in his fingers, rubbing the tresses between his fingertips.
    “You’re looking quite handsome yourself,” she says, flushing slightly under the scrutiny of his desire-filled eyes. “I like the tie.” She traces her finger down a somewhat surprising chokaa green necktie. Forget the dinner, let’s just stay here, she finds herself thinking.
    He pulls her close again for another kiss, since she doesn’t have any lipstick au gloss on yet. “Have to take advantage before wewe get all made up,” he murmurs against her lips.
    “Why do wewe think I haven’t put any lipstick on yet?” she answers, nibbling his lower lip a bit before pulling away again. “But now I should go finish getting ready au we’ll be late. Especially if wewe keep distracting me,” she says, the last bit over her shoulder at him.

xXx

    At the banquet, they finally make their way to a table. Gwen was immediately accosted kwa Vivian from sales, who can’t believe that Gwen brought “the hottest guy in the building” as her date, and Gwen took great delight in informing the little twit that Arthur is actually her boyfriend.
    She was also quite surprised to learn that not only did Arthur know her boss, Gaius, but he’s known him his whole life because Gaius and Uther have been Marafiki for over thirty years.
    Merlin, another designer and Gwen’s closest friend at work, joins them at the table, and after ten seconds, he and Arthur are getting along famously, joking and laughing together as if they’d known each other forever.
    They don’t even notice Gwen has slipped away until she returns with Freya, chatting companionably.
    “Oh, we’ve got a whole meza, jedwali here, why don’t wewe sit with us?” Gwen is saying.
    “Thank you,” Freya says. She smiles shyly at Merlin. “Hi, Merlin.”
    “Hello, Freya,” Merlin majibu quietly, his ears turning pink.
    Gwen quickly introduces Freya and Arthur, getting to call him her boyfriend again, trying unsuccessfully not to grin as she does so. Then she orchestrates the seating to get Freya and Merlin to sit inayofuata to one another.
    People are filtering in, and there are two seats left at their table. A very handsome, dark-haired young man wanders over, places his hand on a chair and asks, “Is this taken yet?”
    “No, have a seat, Lance,” Merlin says casually.
    Lance sits, “Hi, Gwen, Freya,” he says, smiling, flashing his perfect white teeth.
    Something about him gives Arthur the urge to reach over and place his hand over Gwen’s on the table, stroking the back of her hand softly with his thumb.
    “Hey, Lance,” Gwen greets him. “Lance, this is Arthur Pendragon. My boyfriend. Arthur, Lance du Lac. He’s the Senior Sales Manager.”
    “Nice to meet you, Lance,” Arthur says tightly, but politely. “I’d shake, but I can’t reach from here,” he says lightly, smiling a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
    Lance nods, and Arthur enjoys the thinly-veiled look of disappointment that crossed his face when Gwen alisema the word boyfriend.
    “You work on 24?” Lance asks.
    Arthur nods. “Met Guinevere in the lift last week Friday during the thunderstorm,” he explains, somehow wanting to twist the knife. “We were stuck for about half an hour,” he chuckles.
    Gwen kicks him under the table.

xXx

    Dinner is standard fare; they got to choose ahead of time from a limited menu. Arthur opted for the beef tips, Gwen chose salmon.
    Casual conversation, of course. Arthur learns that Freya is actually a client, not a coworker, and Gwen whispers that Merlin has been pining for her for months now.
    Arthur finds that he enjoys Gwen whispering in his ear very much.
    His suspicions about Lance’s feelings for Gwen become confirmed quickly just kwa watching Lance. He watches Gwen as much as possible. She appears to ignore his attention, but once she’s finished and passed her leftovers over to Arthur, her sees her glance at Merlin, who gives her a sympathetic smile.
    Then she winds her leg around Arthur’s under the meza, jedwali and he feels better immediately. It’s like she’s telling Arthur I know he likes me and I could not be less interested. So he leans over and kisses her cheek.
    Dessert arrives. It’s tiramisu.
    Arthur looks down at his plate, and then at Gwen, who returns his secret smile with her own.
    “Open,” Arthur orders, and Gwen obliges, opening her mouth, waiting. And waiting.
    “Arthur,” she huffs, frustrated, blindfolded, sitting cross-legged on the floor of her living room. She knows he’s still seated right in front of her, but he’s taking his time.
    “Guinevere,” he mocks her tone, and then repeats lower, huskier, “open your mouth.”
    Her blood heats, his voice a seduction in itself as she opens her mouth again. Arthur feeds her a bite of the coffee-infused cheesecake from his fingers. She takes the bite and grabs his hand, licking the excess, sucking his fingers lightly.
    She hears him groan and releases his hand.
    “More?” he asks.
    “Yes.”
    “Open.”
    She does. A moment later, she feels another bite of tiramisu being deposited in her mouth, this time from his tongue. She squeaks in surprise, then clamps her lips over his, sucking his lower lip in with the dessert.
    “Mmm,” she sighs.
    “Monday’s was better,” Arthur mutters, whispering in Gwen’s ear now.
    “I agree,” she says, feeding the bite currently on her fork to him.
    “Thank you,” he says, chuckling as he straightens up.
    “Okay, wewe two seriously need to get a room,” Merlin states, his lips curling in a half smile.
    “Not the first time we’ve been told that,” Gwen shoots back at him, laughing.
    “Nor is it likely to be the last,” Arthur adds. He laughs when Merlin rolls his eyes.
    Freya is glancing furtively at Merlin, and Arthur cannot help but hope that his new friend gets up some courage to ask the pretty brunette out.
    “Excuse me,” Lance gets up and strolls to the bar to refresh his drink.
    “You’re doing this on purpose,” Gwen says to Arthur, raising an eyebrow at him.
    “I am innocent,” Arthur protests, eyes wide. “It’s him that’s got a serious case of the unrequited hots.”
    “Well, just don’t get into a pissing contest while we’re eating,” she says, trying not to smile. “Though I am somewhat enjoying your jealousy,” she adds, quieter.
    Merlin hears her, though, and laughs. “He’s not wrong, wewe know. Lance has been trying to ask her out for a while.”
    “Oh, really?” Arthur asks. “And why have wewe refused him? He’s handsome. Seems to be polite and intelligent.”
    “Well, first of all, we work together. And second, he’s not my type at all.”
    “And what is your type?” Arthur asks, leaning his chin on his palm, elbow on the table.
    “Blonde guys who distract nervous women in stuck elevators kwa playing silly games with them.”
    “That’s what I thought,” he says, smugly.
    “Silly games?” Merlin asks. “Do tell.”
    “No,” Gwen says, putting her hand over Arthur’s mouth again, as he is just about to divulge.
    “Come on, Gwen, did wewe play spin the bottle au something?”
    “Wouldn’t be much of a game with only two people, Merlin,” Freya says. “Or perhaps a very clever, very simple way of getting to kiss someone,” she adds softly.
    Merlin swallows hard and takes a long drink of his water.
    Arthur gives him a look across the meza, jedwali that says, Come on, man, it’s a sure thing.
    “You never should have brought it up if wewe didn’t intend to tell me,” Merlin finally says. “And now I’m too curious. And wewe know I won’t let it go.”
    “Okay, I’ll tell what game we played, but that’s. It.”
    “Fair enough. And now I’m even zaidi intrigued.”
    “Truth au Dare,” Gwen says, just as Lance sits.
    “You’re playing Truth au Dare now?” he asks, looking around the table. “What, are we all fourteen years old?”
    “No, Gwen’s just admitted that she and Arthur passed the time in the stuck – and presumably dark – elevator kwa playing Truth au Dare,” Merlin explains, knowing Arthur is thoroughly enjoying watching the color drain from Lance’s face. “But she won’t elaborate further.”
    “Oh,” is Lance’s reply.

xXx

    Speeches are made after dessert. Gwen finds them mind-numbing, and can only imagine how exciting this must be for Arthur.
    “I’m going comatose with boredom,” she whispers in his ear, scooting her chair closer, “how are wewe holding up?”
    “Trying to keep my drool from staining my tie,” he whispers back. Then he nips her ear lightly.
    Gwen squeezes his arm, then leans over again. “Dare,” she whispers, brushing her lips against his ear as she does so.
    Arthur turns and raises an eyebrow at her. Nothing too naughty. These are her coworkers. He leans over and whispers, “Take your knickers off. Here. At the table.”
    Gwen almost bursts out laughing, but quickly turns it into a cough. “Excuse me,” she says, apologizing.
    Arthur blinks at her. I’m waiting. She raises both her eyebrows at him in response. You think you’re clever, don’t you?
    She thinks. There is no meza, jedwali behind me. That’s fortunate. She reaches for her glass, just water now, and as she pulls it to her, she “accidentally” knocks her napkin to the floor.
    As she bends to pick it up, she quickly grabs the edge of her panties through her dress and hitches them down so that they are mostly off her backside. She surfaces again and sets her napkin on the table.
    “Smooth,” Arthur whispers, impressed. “Have wewe done this before?” he asks, amused.
    She shoves his shoulder and rolls her eyes. Then she readjusts her skirt, moving her panties down further. “Almost to my knees,” she whispers triumphantly.
    “Gwen, are wewe all right?” Merlin asks quietly, seeing her shifting around in her seat.
    “My bum is falling asleep,” she tells him.
    “My brain is falling asleep,” he answers.
    Easy part now, Gwen thinks, scooting her chair further under the table, thanking the Lord for tablecloths once again. She reaches to her lap, and scoots her panties to her knees. She wiggles her knees slightly and they slide down her calves to the floor, where she delicately steps out of them.
    Gwen smirks at Arthur as she slips her foot out of her shoe and picks up the undergarment with her toes, swings her foot up across her opposite knee, and she nabs it with her hand. Then, gripping them in her palm, she moves her hand into Arthur’s lap, pressing the knickers deliberately into his groin.
    He takes them and puts them in his trouser, suruali pocket. “Thank wewe very much,” he says, leaning over and kissing her cheek again.
    Why do I have the feeling that I’m not going to get those back? she thinks. Like, ever.

Part 5: link