I felt really bad that I haven't written anything in a while- I've been crazy-busy again- so I've written you a smutty drabble. Hope you like.
The first time he kisses her he does not stop at her lips, like she had expected him to. She had expected him to be timider, to hesitate more.
He wound a trail of kisses down her cheek, her jaw, her neck, under her high collar, to her collarbone. Her hand rested on his shoulder, holding on, keeping herself anchored as she sighed in pleasure and surprise.
"I'm in love with you, Grace Carter," he whispered, kissing her again.
His hands were undoing the buttons of her dress and she was not stopping him. By the time her reached the hooks at her waist, she was removing his tie and working her fingers on his buttons too. His hands on her hips, he pulled her with him, through the door at the back of his office, into his sleeping quarters.
"Is this alright?" he murmured to her.
She nodded.
"Grace?"
"Yes," she whispered, her hands returning to his chest, kissing his mouth.
"We don't have to do anything you don't want to," he told her softly, his hand brushing her cheek.
"I want to," she whispered, "I want to very much, Roland. I'm just-..."
"What?" he asked her.
"Surprised," she confessed quietly, "That you want to. That you want me."
He stared at her for long moments. Then, as carefully as he could he detached her headdress and cap from her hair, pulling the pins out, letting it fall down her back.
"Grace," he whispered, dipping his tongue against her lips between his words, his arms embracing her, "You are so beautiful. I can't believe I'm kissing you."
She smiled a little.
"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he told her quietly.
Carefully, she removed her sleeves so that her dress fell to the floor. He touched her body tenderly over her underclothes, making her head fall back a little. He moved to sit on the bed, pulling her with him.
"You're beautiful," he told her, discarding his own shirt, "You're perfect," brushing his fingers down the line of her hip.
She helped him take her corset off. He was winding a long, long trail down her body, kissing between her breasts, her stomach, her hip, following his finger everywhere with his lips.
"Roland-..."
He touched and kissed her intimately at the same time, and her mouth fell open in a keen.
"Oh, god, Roland-..."
He lay between her legs in his tiny bed, worshipping her with his mouth. Her back arched off the mattress as she came, she could barely comprehend what had happened, that the reserve that there usually was between them had simply fallen away, and here she was, in his bed, being made love to. Here she was with Roland-... her friend, another woman's husband-... but it was all gone with a feeling of pleasure that made her cry out, that he had given her, and that was all that she could think of.
She was shaking. She felt his arms reach out and envelope her, smooth her hair as her body recovered. He kissed her forehead.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too," she told him, "I love you."
End.
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