The Fool Ch. 11

Authors Note: Thank you once again to everyone who leaves comments and feedback on my writing, it is much appreciated. Thank you very much to Paul who continues to be my second set of eyes, he is a great friend to help me out so much. I hope you enjoy it. ~ellie

*****

The Fool Ch. 11

Flying from her fate.

With just over a month before the exhibition opened, Carrie returned to her life and her work with a renewed sense of purpose after spending the day with her grandmother and father. Sinclair had been curious about the day she spent with her father, and she'd been vague telling him about meeting a grandmother, but she had also told him of her misgivings given that any search on her father's history stated that he was an orphan. By the woman's age, she could have been her great-grandmother, Carrie admitted.

For his safety, she had said little else. Carrie trusted him, but if the information her grandmother had given her, along with the tools to ruin Edith plan was to be believed, Sinclair was better off not knowing the danger she and, by default, he, would be in should the Bonnet's discover what she was doing. If her grandmother proved herself trustworthy, there was no real danger, as the Windsor's would step in rather than see her or her love harmed in any way, and Carrie was banking on that. First, there was the exhibition to complete in order to make the claims of Edith and Jordan inconsequential.

She worked long hours in the final weeks leading up to the exhibition, and her team worked alongside her, determined to prove to the museum faculty that, although they were each untried and tested in their current positions, they could be successful at bringing money, as well as notoriety to the museum. When Carrie had suggested a preview opening for specifically targeted philanthropists as a fundraiser for the museum, the board of directors had approved the idea almost immediately, and her team had all jumped on the idea and came together with ideas for a spectacular interactive night.

As small pieces of the puzzle began to come together, her confidence in CC's plans rose, along with her enthusiasm for opening night. Sinclair often had to come to the museum and take her home to ensure she ate properly and got a good night's sleep. He enjoyed using her so hard that it robbed her all of the extraneous energy that bubbled forth and found her equally as exuberant about their relationship as she was about her work and she would sleep for at least a few hours. It seemed as if his gift of submission to her on Valentine's Day had opened a whole new world to her, and she met him equally now instead of always fighting him for control in the bedroom. She was still aggressive, on occasion, but he had felt the shift in the way she responded to the nights where he asserted his dominant side, and, despite himself, he reciprocated, on occasion, when she pushed to take the top.

"The next two weeks are going to be hectic," she said as they lay regaining their breath after a particularly torrid scene.

"I know. Whatever you need me to do just ask," Sinclair said, his breath still ragged.

"I need you," she paused and tilted her face up to his. "I need you to trust me and love me no matter how the exhibition goes."

"That goes without saying," he peered at her through the darkness surrounding them, trying to make out an expression on her face. "Is something going on that I should know about?" he asked. "Something to do with that space that's been curtained off? Or all of the new friends you have made recently?"

"Maybe, maybe not," she leant up and kissed him. "I'd like you to be as surprised as everyone else at the preview."

"You're not taking unnecessary risks, are you?" he pulled her close, worrying about her role as the fool as the day got closer. As usual, his parents were playing shell games with the Heart of the Heartless, but he knew when the time came they would honour the agreement to allow her to add it to the exhibition.

"Would you stop me or help me if I said I was?" she asked with a playfulness in her voice.

"As if I could stop you doing anything you've set your mind to," he chuckled. "Of course I would help you."

"And that is why I love you," she leant up and kissed him, worming her arms around his neck and holding him tightly as she kissed him deeply again.

"It seems I didn't wear you out quite as much as I did myself," he murmured against her neck.

"We're on the final countdown to opening night, I doubt I will sleep much between now and then," she admitted honestly. "I will, however, lie here and try to think quietly while I watch you sleep," she laughed.

"Or maybe I will wear you out properly, so you do sleep," he rolled her onto her back and pulled her arms above her head.

"You could try," she challenged him with a small giggle that turned into a sigh as his lips and teeth grazed down her neck and over her shoulder. "You're like a boy scout, always prepared," she laughed, feeling his cock begin to harden again against her thigh.

"Dib, dib, dob, dob," he mumbled, pulling one nipple into his mouth. He kissed down her body, feeling her respond immediately with the remnants of their earlier lovemaking. He scraped his teeth and lips over her flesh as his head lowered, with his hands massaging her along the same pathway.

Sinclair knew her so well and could hit every hot point on her body without even trying. When she felt his hands spread her thighs, she willingly complied and cooed softly as she felt the first tentative touch of his lips kiss her most sensitive of spots in a teasing manner. He kissed her thighs and down each leg, knowing that avoiding the apex between her legs would make her even hotter when he finally touched her.

Sinclair climbed back up her body, leaning over her and kissing her deeply, letting her taste her climax on his tongue as she purred like a satisfied kitten. His fingers tightened around the back of her neck and he pulled her body closer to his, deepening the kiss, leaving no doubt about his intentions to fuck her again. He wrapped his arms tightly around her; one across her shoulders and the other under the curve of her bottom, then he rolled to his back, taking her with him in one fluid movement. Her eyes widened in surprise at finding herself neatly planted atop him, her thighs splayed on either side of his hips. Rolling her hips, she could feel the hard ridge of him pressed into the soft flesh of her pussy.

Bracing her hands on either side of his head, she pushed herself up. Her tousled hair fell in a curtain across her face to tickle on his chest and a wicked grin spread across her lips as she lifted her hips a fraction of an inch and arched her back, rolling her hips again and pressing down onto his hard cock to tease him. She heard his breath hiss in through his clenched teeth, and she peeked at him through her lashes and wiggled a little more, setting him more firmly into her moist folds.

Grinning at his muffled groan and feeling his hands reach for her hips to still her movements, Carrie smiled and became still momentarily. Having kept her still for several moments, Sinclair relaxed back and gazed up at her, a sinful smile on his face as one hand quickly left her hip and smacked her ass. As she yelped in surprise, he quickly pulled her back down on top of him and kissed her deeply.

His dark eyes were bright with undisguised lust as she began to rotate her hips, pressing down onto him again. Her eyes closed and small white teeth glinted behind warm pink lips as she bent to nibble his neck, paying particular attention to the tender spot just below his ear. She distantly registered his hands gliding lower to cup her bottom. He lifted her slightly away from him so that she could feel his cock glide between the hot wet folds of her pussy. Sinking her teeth into his neck to distract him slightly, she reached back and took his hands, pulling them up over his head, trying to pin him to the bed. She knew she couldn't restrain him if he wanted to be loose, but it excited her to tease him into fighting her for the dominance he desired. Her defiance was only ever a token effort now, but it still excited her non-the-less.

Sinclair raised his eyebrow at her and smirked, and she leant forward to lick over the bite mark she had left on his neck. She heard his soft moan and grinned to herself as she licked her way down his throat to his chest, nibbling here and there. Her tongue flicked out and gently teased his nipple, knowing this would excite him, his hips insistently pushing up into her, and a thrill ran through her when he finally broke free of her grasp, his hands moving to her rotating hips once more.

Enjoying being the tease, she wriggled free of his hands once more and slid down the length of his body, pausing to nip the flat belly with her teeth. She was on her knees between his legs, running her hands up his thighs. Looking up at him, she lowered her head, taking his hardness into her mouth.

His legs tensed and his fingers twined into her hair, she smiled around his cock, running her tongue up the underside of his shaft. She felt his little shiver and slid her mouth back down on him, taking all of him and feeling him press into the back of her throat.

Her left hand curved under his balls and cupped him, stroking with soft, gentle fingers. She felt him pulsing on her lips and she moved down onto him. His fingers twined further into her hair, his hips thrusting up gently into her mouth, making her gag slightly. She distantly heard him moan, and she gave a small whimper in response. She felt herself clench and knew she wanted him inside her again. She lifted her head and looked up to see his lust filled gaze on her.

Sinclair decided that she'd had her way long enough, and, pulling slightly at her hair wrapped around his fingers, he led her back up his body. With the grace of an athlete, he changed their positions, pushing her down onto the bed and rearing up over her.

It was his turn to taste the sweetness of her skin, his tongue running down a similar path to one Carrie had travelled down his body. He loved her breasts, the small pale pink nipples that were short and puckered sweetly between his lips making her breasts rise into pointed mounds of flesh. His hands rested on her breasts as he kissed his way down her body, nipping the soft skin below her navel and rolling over her flat belly.

His hands spread her thighs wide and he nipped at the soft flesh, listening to her sigh in pleasure. He placed extra pressure on her thighs, watching as the lips of her pussy parted, and leant forward to flick his tongue over the centre of her being then. A grin curled his lips again as he felt the shock of pleasure ripple through her, making her thighs tremble and his cock harden impossibly more so.

His lips closed over the tiny bud and he began to whip it gently with his tongue. Her fingers threaded into his hair, pulling his mouth closer to her as her hips came off the bed to meet him. Her lips parted with soft whimpering gasps. He ran his hand up her thigh and slowly entered her, first one, then two fingers, marvelling at how hot and wet she was. She moaned, thrusting her hips upward once again onto the fingers and into his mouth. His tongue began to work at her faster, and he could feel her wetness begin to coat his hand. Her muscles tightened around his fingers, and he knew she was close to the edge of that abyss of pleasure that would wrack her body and leave her weak and trembling in his arms.

Pulling free of her grappling hands, Sinclair rose above Carrie again, guiding his throbbing cock into her. He slid in only a frustrating fraction at a time, and the excruciating slowness of his movements nearly sent them both over the edge.

Finally, embedded in her to the hilt, he felt her muscles grip him, and a groan of pleasure rumbled from his throat as he began to fuck her. He guided her legs up the length of his body from where they had wrapped around his hips, essentially doubling her in half and watching her breath shorten even more as she cried out her need.

Carrie dragged her fingernails down Sinclair's back, enjoying the added grunts of pleasure he issued. He stiffened, moaning, and, unable to hold back the tide, began thrusting harder into her, wanting her to come with him. He looked at the glazed eyes and wide panting mouth of the incredible girl who had captured his heart so completely and groaned loudly as he came. She matched him, and he felt the muscles around his cock pulse with her climax, milking the cum from him to mix with her own.

Sinclair collapsed beside her, allowing Carrie to unfurl her legs, and they both lay breathing raggedly for long minutes. He pulled her close, the wave of exhaustion he felt moving over him and hoping she now felt the same way.

"You win, I'll sleep for a few a few hours, at least," she breathed heavily into his neck. Satisfied with her words, Sinclair let sleep take him.

*****

Carrie smiled at the woman she'd gotten to know over the last three weeks as she entered the exhibition rooms where the Mansvelt collection was getting its last minute fine tuning. She spread her arms as if to indicate the chaos of people hurrying around the space and calling out to each other and laughed happily.

"Marina, it's bedlam here, but it's so good to see you," Carrie embraced the woman, kissing her cheek. "Tell me the good news."

"The good news is that my voice has been well rested and my troupe and I are more than ready to entertain your guests tomorrow night," Marina laughed with her. "Now your turn, tell me the good news."

"It's still a shell game," Carrie said quietly. "I'm not sure what they will do, yet."

While the Windsor's original rules for the privateers they recruited held the addendum about the collection of artefacts, it had been Robyn's plan and training that had put her on this path, and it was she who deserved the credit for pulling it off. The only credit Carrie wanted was for stealing Sinclair's heart, not the coveted jewels his family protected so well.

She had needed to believe CC's assertion that it was possible to do this and still have a normal life after it was all said and done with the man she loved. She knew that she could be putting her faith in the wrong people, but for the chance of a happily ever after she would dance with the devil himself if she needed to, and pray that if things went pear-shaped Sinclair would forgive her.

"Hey, where did you go?" Marina linked arms with Carrie and walked slightly away from the chaos of the team who hurried around the space. "Now is not the time to be zoning out, my friend."

"Sorry. You're right. There is just so much to remember and do," Carrie apologised. "I'm keeping a lot of balls in the air right now, and juggling was never my forte," she admitted. Edith and Jordan had become more aggressive in their demands on her as the exhibition drew closer because she had less time to meet with them and update them on the plans of the Fool. She often made the flimsiest of excuses to avoid one of the meetings they frequently planned with her. William had stayed in London, and she suddenly had new friends, like Marina, who had come on board as entertainment for the preview night of the exhibition, as well as to keep an eye on her for CC. Sinclair and his family had been very generous in their permissions and willingness to share their treasures for the exhibition. She smiled, thinking of Sinclair, and jolted as Marina poked her again.

"Being sorry is one thing, keeping your head in the game is another matter entirely," Marina admonished. "The opening is twenty-four hours away, and you will need to have your wits about you."

"I know, but you need to trust me, not put more pressure on me," Carrie said, taking a deep breath. For better or worse it would be over after tomorrow night, and she had to let the cards fall where they may, because she couldn't continue to live like this. She was lying to everyone, even the man she loved.

"Carrie, can you come and check the hologram again? I've tweaked it a little more," Brandie called out from a few meters away, giving Carrie the chance to excuse herself from the uncomfortable presence of Marina, who seemed to be there every time she turned around at the museum.

She worked tirelessly during the day, not stopping for more than a quick cup of coffee before moving onto the next task. It was well after the museum's closing time when Sinclair arrived, making all movement stop as each of her team members turned to look at him as he stood in the entrance surveying the entrance of the exhibition.

The wide spaces all interconnected, but moving panels could be used to open up the space or create maze-like corridors to funnel the visitors along a chronologically set out display of the infamous Edvard Mansvelt and his descendants. Most of these panels, however, were open at that time, as the team worked on the various displays making last minute adjustments.

"Mr. Mansvelt, I'd very much like you to see the holograms I have been working on, if you have a few minutes," Brandie approached him before Carrie even realised why everyone had suddenly stopped working.

"I think Carrington was planning to surprise me with the visual effects, but I would very much like to see them without having to peer around people in a crowded room," he said thoughtfully. "Why don't you be my guide and show me around. That way I won't be disturbing the boss," he winked at the purple haired young woman.

"It's all looking fabulous," Sinclair said, not hiding how impressed he was with his expression or voice once Brandie had released him from his small tour. "It's time to send your team home and come have dinner with me," he said in a voice that held a commanding tone that she knew she shouldn't argue with. "I have a surprise for you at home that won't wait much longer," he added, seeing her about to make an excuse to stay longer.

"The surprise I've been patiently waiting for?" she asked hopefully.

"Perhaps, but you won't know until you leave this place, will you?" he asked, baiting her with the only thing he knew would get her out of the museum tonight.

"Okay, let's call it a night!" she said loudly, and Sinclair was surprised to hear her team making excuses to stay just a little longer. He waited somewhat impatiently as the team gradually gave up the arguments and went home, promising to begin early in the morning. The fact that, with all her absences, Carrie had managed to instill such loyalty and dedication in her team, made him wonder at just how amazing she was.

They stopped for dinner on the way home at a little restaurant in the suburbs, and Carrie picked at her meal as she bubbled with anxiety over the final preparations for the preview. Sinclair had to threaten to keep her there until she had eaten at least half of her meal before she started to eat properly, and he chuckled at how quickly she devoured the whole plate of food once she had begun to eat and realised just how hungry she was. He doubted she had eaten at all that day.

"Feel better?" he asked as she put her knife and fork together across her empty plate.

"I'll feel better when I have the final and most important piece of the Mansvelt collection on display," she said in a too sweet voice, which made him chuckle.

"We better go home before mother goes to bed then," he let the wide smile spread over his face and reach his eyes.

"I didn't think they were coming until tomorrow!" Carrie exclaimed.

"Surprise," Sinclair let his chuckle develop into a full blown laugh as she berated him for taking his time at the museum and then stopping for dinner when his parents were waiting for them at home.

They left the restaurant and drove home with Carrie urging him to speed all the way. When they finally arrived and she made it inside, she was met by Frazer and Georgia who were relaxing in the living room.