Author: Fallenbelle
Title: Visitations
Rating: M just to be safe. Mentions of nudity and vague sexual acts.
Summary: William and Julia have a visit.
Author's Note: The third and final installment of the Conversations series, I'm still not sure how I feel about this, but here it is. I don't know that I like it, but I'm trying to improve my skills as a writer, so constructive criticism is welcome.
Julia had awoken to loud voices downstairs.
Glancing at her bedside clock and noting that it was just after nine o'clock, Julia got out of bed to discover the source of the commotion
"Detective, she's already retired for the evening," she could hear her maid Abigail protest.
"I must speak with her-it cannot wait," came William's insistent voice.
Julia sighed, and opened the door, ending the argument before it could go further. "Abigail, it's fine. You may go now. I'll be right down, William," she announced, closing the door so that she could dress.
However, she immediately had a change of heart, and instead slipped on a pink silk negligee as an attempt of covering her body and checked her reflection in the mirror-not that the negligee did much-it was only marginally more modest than the thin silk nightgown.
May as well give him a preview, she thought with a shrug of the shoulders.
Smirking, she opened the door to make sure that Abigail had left, and she looked at William, holding his gaze for several seconds before she walked back in her room, leaving the door wide open for him to follow.
A full minute passed before his curious nature won out over propriety and he quietly came up the stairs to her room, softly closing the door behind him. All the while he kept his head down, so that he didn't see anything he wasn't supposed to, and fiddled with the brim of his hat.
The perfect gentleman to a fault, Julia thought.
"Perhaps I should wait for you downstairs," he said with a weary sigh, turning to exit.
Julia gave a short bitter laugh, "Don't you dare, William Murdoch. Surely you've seen a woman in night attire before."
William looked up and his eyes widened (and darkened) much to Julia's satisfaction. To his credit, he swallowed, but did not look away.
"Julia," he began, shaking his head. "I…uh…I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have gone down to the docks without more men. I shouldn't have gone off on my own, and I'm sorry I got injured. I…," he trailed off, unable to tear his eyes from her, yet trying to remember all the things the Inspector said he needed to atone for.
But he couldn't concentrate-not with the vision presented to him.
Julia noted that his eyes were growing yet darker, and his voice was quickly becoming husky with desire.
"William, you promised you'd never leave me. Do you know how many times you've come close to breaking that promise?"
William solemnly nodded, looking down at his hat. "Yes, I realize that now. I've got to be more careful-my old ways will not suffice any longer," he said, looking back up into her eyes. "Julia, I cannot promise that nothing will ever happen to me, but I can swear that I will exercise greater caution, and let the constables perform more of the chases. I will wait for men to accompany me if I must give chase," he finished.
"I give you my solemn vow that I will be the best husband that I know how to be, and to listen to your concerns and guidance when I am not fulfilling my role as you think I should."
Something about his words seemed rehearsed, but seeing the sincerity in his eyes and worry in his face, Julia knew he'd finally understood her concerns, and decided to forgive him anyway.
Trust William to have rehearsed an apology.
She crossed the room to him, and stepped into his arms, and laid her head on his shoulder-her favorite place to be.
"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner, William. I shouldn't have waited so long to tell you of my fears," Julia mumbled into his lapel, enjoying his scent.
"I'm sorry for making you worry. I should have known better. I've got to do better," William murmured into her hair, relieved that the issue had been resolved.
Or at least as resolved as it was ever going to be, she thought. She looked up at him and smiled, she knew exactly what kind of man she was getting, and in the end, it was just one of the many reasons she loved him.
He had been absentmindedly running his hands up and down her back and sides, but he now realized his action and that there was hardly any material between his hands and her flesh, and with the Inspector's fine scotch giving him courage, he slipped his hands down past her lower back, to cup her backside, relishing the feel of her bottom in his hands.
"William," Julia purred. She smelled the scotch on his breath, but she could hardly fault him-undoubtedly he could smell the port on hers. She closed the distance and kissed him soundly.
He responded by moving his hands up to her ribcage, grinning cheekily.
She stepped back to look at his grin, and moved his hands to her breasts, guessing that was where his hands had wanted to go.
She moaned, and closed her eyes in both pleasure and frustration, tilting her head back as he cupped them in his hands.
William merely groaned in response. But encouraged by her moans, his fingers deftly found a nipple, and he softly rolled it between his thumb and index finger and the layers of fine silk, noting how her breath hitched as he did so.
Definitely something worth remembering for the future, he thought.
Julia stepped out of his embrace and waited until she had his attention. Then she removed the negligee, leaving only the thin silk nightgown to cover her body.
Not that it left much to the imagination-it revealed as much as it concealed.
William shook his head in disbelief. He shouldn't be here in her bedroom-they weren't married yet. He shouldn't be seeing her like this.
But he wanted this nonetheless. He hungrily took in the sight of her body, memorizing what he could. Drinking it in like a man dying of thirst.
"Aren't you the least bit curious to see what you'll be getting, William? Or at least closely examine it this time?"
He knew it was wrong, that he shouldn't be here, and he shouldn't be doing this. Yet, he couldn't remember exactly why it was wrong, and he wasn't sure he cared anymore, and fueled by both the drink and her invitation, he untied the ribbons that held the thin silk together and it easily pooled onto the floor at her feet, revealing the rest of her body to his gaze.
Needing physical contact, she stepped back into his embrace and ran her fingers through his hair, kissing him like the brazen French courtesans she had read about, with open mouth and tongue.
William responded likewise, and they stood there for a moment until he led her to her bed, and across it, staring down at her with desire written all across his face.
But not for long, as his curiosity demanded that every inch of her body be explored with both eyes and lips, and thus, he began the long anticipated worship.
Julia's only response was to arch her back and moan, digging her fingernails into the sheets.
She attempted to pull him closer, and direct him to where she ached the most for his touch, but he pinned her arms and growled, his eyes black by now. Julia knew at that moment he was a man driven by lust who demanded to be in control.
She was more than content to let him drive.