Hunger Satisfied

His hands were gentle as he cupped her hips, pulling her closer into him as she wound her hands round his neck caressing the soft skin where his hair met his neck. His lips were soft as their mouths met in a fierce storm that felt like it lasted forever, though Lavinia knew it was only a few seconds. He brought his arms up to encircle her in a tight embrace. She responded by holding on to his shoulders before running hers hands up and down his chest, causing his breath to become ragged against her lips.

Lavinia had never felt like this before. To feel hungry for someone to touch her like this, and to feel satisfied someone had, all at the same time. Sensual thrills ran down her spine that made her shiver in his embrace, at this a light chuckle escaped his mouth. 

"George." She breathed his name, as his lips were like feathers; making a pathway along her cheekbone, down her neck and across her collar bone.

Slowly, Lavinia reached up to pull the metal clasps from her hair, allowing it to fall in soft locks around her shoulders. As she did so, George brought his head up to once again press his lips against hers, running his hands through the locks she had just let free. She felt at home as she breathed in his usual scent of fresh linen.

Gently, he lifted her up in his arms and carried her over to the four-poster bed, laying her down carefully on the soft pillows and coverlet. He let her go momentarily to shrug off his black jacket and drop it to the floor before pressing his mouth softly against hers; his hands began to gently pull on the lacings to her dress, as she popped the buttons holding his shirt closed.

Slowly, Lavinia's eyelids fluttered open as soft fingers caressed her bare back. Rays of sunlight shone in through the parting in the heavy curtains to half-light the thick, embossed emerald wallpaper of the aptly named green room of Rosely House.

Stretching out her hand, she felt the lean muscular chest of George Gilham that Lavinia had wanted to touch since the first time they had met. Lifting her head from its resting place on his chest, she looked into George's sea green eyes gazing lovingly down at her.

"Morning." He said, in his deep masculine voice.

"Morning." Lavinia whispered, then placed her lips against his in a soft embrace.

"We should get dressed." He replied, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, before he slipped out of the bed and pulled on his trousers and shirt. "You're mine now Lavinia."

"What do you mean, George?" Lavinia asked, her confusion heavy in her voice. "Of course, I'm yours."

"No one else will ever have you." George said, his voice now having taken on a chillingly cold tone.

"George, I ..." she murmured, as her eyes flew to the long thin blade that had now appeared in his right hand. She began to slowly edge further across the bed, all the while keeping the white sheet clutched tightly around her.

"Lavinia." George whispered, as he took one step closer to her, lifting the knife a little higher; a ray of sunlight glinted off the blade showing an intricate design of leaves and the initials GG.

"George, no." Lavinia screamed, as the knife flashed once and her eyes flew wide, then everything went dark. 

Lavinia sat bolt upright in her bed, her eyes darted around the room and found that it was indeed empty; confirming that it had just been a bad dream. She put a hand to her chest to try and calm her ragged breathing; she felt hot and clammy all over, her nightgown clung to her body. Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, her breath caught in her throat.

There laying atop her copy of Jane Eyre was a long thin blade with a design of leaves and the engraved initials GG.