Diary of a Reluctant Ruler

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It was Monday.

I had pleaded with grandma for some time with James. Although begrudgingly, she had admitted that my behaviour the past days had been satisfactory, and granted me an hour.

“Hey,” he said, as I knocked on his door, “I thought you couldn’t see me?”

“Grandma gave me an hour,” I replied, sitting down on the bed next to him, “What are you writing?”

“Nothing,” he said, shoving the paper out of sight underneath a stack of folders.

Whatisit?whatisit?whatisit?

Er, a piece of paper?

I know that! What's on it?!!

“A ‘nothing-in-your-head’ nothing, or a ‘nothing-you-can-share’ nothing?” I asked, smiling softly.

“That would be telling,” James replied, smirking.

He laced the fingers of his left hand with mine, trailing the index finger of the other up my bare arm, tracing circles into my shoulder bone. Fire began to burn in his touch and I sighed, closing my eyes.

*swoons*

Okay, exiting quickly...

“Still think Romeo’s a jerk?” I asked quietly.

“Yes,” James replied, laughter unveiled in his voice, “Still a hopeless romantic?”

“Yes,” I replied, opening my eyes.

“Then move not,” he quoted, “While my prayer’s effect I take.”

I tried not to move, but his body seemed to suddenly gain electrostatic qualities, forcing me to move backwards with him as he began to pull away. He didn’t need a second invitation. The frustrations we’d worked up over the past few days slipped aside for once, and I became oblivious in his touch. It worked its way through my skin and to my heart, leaving fire running along every inch of my body, making my toes curl.

“What are you doing?” James asked.

“Taking my socks off,” I replied.

“Why?” he looked at me confused.

“Because,” I said, blushing.

“Because why?” he asked, accentuating both words with a kiss.

“I really don’t know, but I don’t like having them on when you kiss me like that,” I replied.

“Well, I’m not making a fuss if you want to take your clothes off,” he answered.

“Oh shush,” I replied, hitting him with one sock.

“You shush.”

Kissing was resumed, my bare feet now able to feel the sheets underneath me. I realised, ashamedly, that I didn’t want my socks on because I wanted to feel his skin under mine… it was sexual. I guess it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it didn’t feel exactly right either. I wasn’t married to James…

“You-”

I began, cut off by a kiss.

“Should-”

Another kiss.

“Take-”

A third.

“Something- off - too – so – we’re – not – unequal.”

James laughed against my lips, only deepening the kiss he’d started after my last word.

“Which item of clothing would your majesty suggest?” he asked.

“Socks,” I replied, “Otherwise the surface area would outweigh mine.”

I traced James’ back as he removed his socks. His shoulder blades twisted under my light touch, sinew moving under his shirt and my finger tips. Finished, he turned around.

“Happy?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

I only sighed, anxious to return to kissing him. An hour wasn’t enough. I wanted the whole night. I didn’t need actual sex; I didn’t think I was quite ready for that, I just needed to kiss him. It was enough for now. Absorbed though most of my mind was, at the back of my head a moral debate was raging – how far could I go before this became wrong? Kissing was fine, I’d established that. Kissing other than the mouth was fine, unless it went into key areas. Touching was fine, unless it trespassed on key areas… But how long would I be able to keep this up before I or he needed to trespass?

His mouth closed on mine again, and the fire, which had lulled to dull warmth as he had removed his socks, flared.

“What’s the time?” James asked, as we broke apart.

“Ten to six,” I replied.

“When did your hour start?”

“Five o’clock,” I replied, sulky.

“And dinner’s at six,” he finished.

“Then we have ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes,” he smiled back.